Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Taking Chances and Leaps of Faith ❯ In Which There is an Arrival ( Chapter 5 )

The sun was just rising above the horizon when Vegeta awoke. He normally didn't sleep this late, but the woman had kept him entertained into the late hours. Yawning in contentment, Vegeta pressed a kiss to her temple softly and disentangled himself from her embrace. She murmured in her sleep, but did not wake up. Typical, the woman could sleep through a train wreck.

Vegeta felt a slight twinge at leaving the warm bed and body, but squashed it. He pulled on his normal training outfit and flew out the window to the gravity chamber. Standing outside on the dew damp grass, Vegeta performed his warm ups, silently and smoothly. He seemed to dance through the grass, barely turning the blades.

His concentration was so intense; he heard the soft drone of what could have been a bee. The drone was more mechanical in nature though, and Vegeta was suddenly tense and alert. Really, now, the last thing they needed was an attack of more androids!

Vegeta slowly, carefully flew towards the sound. He was immediately in attack mode and stretched out his senses, trying to identify the intruder. The ki was instantly familiar and Vegeta wondered what the boy wanted now. It seemed every time he decided to visit he always brought bad news. Irritated beyond belief, Vegeta approached the time machine with a belligerent expression and taught stance.

Trunks noticed this immediately and gulped. Vegeta was an inch shorter then him, but the man had the persona of a gladiator and Trunks could not help but be intimidated. He cautiously exited the time machine and approached his father.

"Vegeta," he said, bowing.

"Humph, what do you want boy?"

"I need to see…uh, speak with Bulma. Is she awake?"

Vegeta shook his head slowly, his eyes gleaming. "Whatever you wish to say to her, you may say to me."

Trunks shuffled his feet. "Err…how about I tell you both at the same time?"

Considering the notion, Vegeta decided it was a legit excuse to avoid any explanations and nodded. "Until then, you may spar with me."

Trunks managed to not roll his eyes. What a man his father was. It didn't bother him to terribly, sparring with Vegeta was always a good work out and he lacked any kind of sparring partner back home.

The two assumed their positions and Trunks attacked first, his fist flying through the air for Vegeta's face. The Prince blocked it easily and returned with a jab of his own. Trunks blocked and attempted to swipe Vegeta's feet, but the Saiyan flipped, his toes catching Trunk's chin. It was just a nick, but it was meant to humiliate. Trunks resisted his Saiyan rage and phased knocking into Vegeta from behind with his elbow.

Vegeta barely felt the light blow and spun so quickly, Trunks lost his concentration and felt the hard blow of Vegeta's fist in his face. Trunks stumbled backwards, his face grim. No more playing.

The two flew at each other, their bodies a blur of attacks and blocks. They were evenly matched at first, for neither felt the desire to turn into their alternate forms. However, Vegeta trained everyday and his stamina began to overcome Trunks. Feeling the tide turning, Trunks flew up and out of the spar, holding up his hand. He was bruised and slightly bloody, but nothing a sensu wouldn't fix. Vegeta also bore some bruises and cuts, but not nearly as many.

"Thanks, Vegeta, it's been awhile since I had a chance to really spar."

"Humph, I could tell. My brat could beat you with his pinkie."

Rolling his eyes, Trunks ignored Vegeta and headed toward the house. His father followed, his training nearly forgotten as his curiosity took precedence. He would double up later to make up for it, however he knew the woman would not be happy. Vegeta knew he should probably attempt to make it up to her. He would think on it.

The two Saiyans reached the house and entered. Vegeta glanced to where the kitchen was located and groaned. The woman was up…and cooking. Trunks glanced at his father and whispered, "What is that smell?"

"The woman is attempting to cook, again."

"Oh," Trunks said, nodding. He had grown used to his mothers atrocious cooking,

and now he could eat just about anything. They'd had to conserve energy and it couldn't be wasted on cooking bots.

Bulma turned away from her bubbling pots and pans when she heard her husband enter. Her face dropped when she saw Trunks and she squealed in sudden delight, much to the consternation of her husband and `son.'

"Oh, Trunks, it's been so long since I last saw you! I see you grew your hair out again!"

Trunks blushed, but accepted the hug from Bulma. "The style grew on me. Plus, most of the time I don't have a chance to cut it."

"Hum, I could trim it for you if you'd like?"

Sheepishly, Trunks shook his head. "I'm kind of attached to it now."

"And you should be," Bulma giggled, "It's very sexy."

Vegeta cleared his throat, annoyed that the woman was ignoring him. Sighing, Bulma leaned over and kissed his cheek.

"Good morning, Vegeta, I see you're up, don't worry."

Grumbling, Vegeta took his seat at the head of the table. "Where the hell is the brat?"

"Getting ready for school, Vegeta. Geez, give him a break. Trunks, why don't you take a seat over here." Bulma gestured to a seat on the left of Vegeta. Nervously, Trunks sat, unsure of himself for some reason.

"So, what brings you to our little world?"

"It's…"

Loud thumping from upstairs drowned out Trunks words. Looking up at the ceiling in disgust, Bulma shook her head.

"I don't understand why he needs to make so much noise every morning!"

The thumping moved in the direction of the stairs. There was suddenly a loud thud and groan. Rolling her eyes, Bulma returned to the stove.

Little Trunks entered the kitchen, rubbing his head and muttering to himself. He paused when he saw his counterpart sitting there, staring at him.

"Uh…Dad, who is that?"

"The boy from the future," Vegeta grumbled, "Has come for a `visit' and probably a warning of some possible threat."

"Cool," Trunks said, taking his seat to the right of Vegeta. "Ew…what's with the long hair?"

"Trunks Briefs Vegeta!" Bulma screeched. "You apologize right now for that rude comment!"

"No," Trunks said, "It's okay, Bulma, I've heard worse."

Little Trunks noticed that his mother was cooking. His face turned slightly green and he began to slink out of his chair. Vegeta was not an unobservant man and he grabbed his son by the back of his shirt. "Where do you think you're going?"

"Uh…I forgot that I have to meet Goten real early…"

"Oh, no you don't! If I have to suf-err, I mean, enjoy your mother's cooking then so do you!"

Trunks slumped down in his chair, a dejected expression on his face. His counterpart chuckled and Trunks stuck his tongue out at him. The other Trunks responded with his tongue. This continued until Vegeta, extremely annoyed, shot out his hands and grabbed both their tongues.

"Now," he said over their choking noises. "Stop behaving like spoiled human children and act like the Saiyan Warriors you are! If there is a problem have a fight like real men!"

"VEGETA!" Bulma screeched, stomping over to the table, frying pan in hand. Vegeta shrunk backwards at the offending object and Bulma huffed in annoyance.

"I am not Chi Chi, I am not going to hit you over the head with this. Besides, breakfast is in here. Now, you tell both these boys that fighting is not the answer…or else!"

Bulma returned to her kitchen to cause more destruction, but Vegeta knew she could hear every word spoken. He also knew exactly what `or else' meant. In mate language that meant he would be sleeping on the floor and the woman would have the bed all to herself. Growling he muttered to his sons, "Fighting isn't the answer."

Both Trunks snickered behind their hands. It was amazing what Bulma could get Vegeta to do. Before the mighty Prince could back hand them both for their insolence, Bulma returned with trays of plates on a cart.

"There now, Vegeta, that wasn't so hard was it?"

She smiled sweetly as she placed the plates of unidentifiable sustenance in front of her boys. Vegeta almost cried. It looked as if she had attempted to make pancakes, bacon, and eggs. The pancakes were like Frisbees, in fact, little Trunks was looking at older Trunks with a gleam in his eyes. Better keep an eye on him, Vegeta thought to himself as he inspected the rest of his breakfast. The bacon was burnt beyond crispy, it was like ashes and the eggs, well, Vegeta could detect more then one shell embedded in what could have past for scrambled eggs if there wasn't so much yolk everywhere. Gulping, Vegeta raised his fork and bravely dug in.

Little Trunks looked at his plate dubiously. His appetite was gone, there was no way he could eat this. Glancing at his father with pleading eyes, he frowned when all Vegeta did was shrug and shovel more `food' into his mouth. His father had long ago perfected the art of pleasing Bulma when she cooked and little Trunks envied his father's skills. He looked over at the other Trunks, and his mouth dropped. The other Trunks was shoveling food into his mouth to, but he was acting like it was a culinary delight. Suspiciously, Trunks poked at the food. Maybe it tasted better then it looked.

Deciding the pancakes were probably the best bet, trunks nibbled on one and promptly cracked his tooth. He set the pancake down with a clunk and decided to try the eggs, there was no way he would eat the mass of ashes that were once bacon in a former life.

Bravely, Trunks spooned a bit of the egg into his mouth, and thought he would literally die. The taste of sour milk and raw egg flowered in his mouth and he hurriedly tried to swallow. Unfortunately, he had spooned a bit of shell in with the egg and Trunks began to choke.

Vegeta looked over at his gagging son and slammed his fist into this back. The piece of shell flew from his mouth and landed in the other Trunks plate, who merely flicked the offending article away from his plate and continued to eat.

"Oh, Trunks, are you okay?"

Trunks suddenly adopted a mournful expression. "I don't feel so good, mom, I don't have much of an appetite."

Bulma worriedly checked her son's forehead. "You do feel a bit warm, sweetie, why don't you go upstairs and lie down. I'll call your school and excuse you for the day."

Vegeta watched in astonishment as the woman left the dining room for the phone. He glared at his son who was looking quite pleased with himself.

"Insubordination! Traitor!" Vegeta hissed. "You will pay, Trunks, with extra training sessions."

Before Trunks could reply, Bulma returned and ushered him up to bed. When she returned, Vegeta tried to adopt his son's mournful expression, but Bulma nipped it in the bud.

"Don't even think you can play off your son's illness to try and avoid my food, Vegeta. It may not be as great as Chi Chi's but it is edible."

Vegeta could have most definitely debated that statement, but he kept his thoughts to himself as he finished off the tray of his food. The things he did for the woman, if she only knew.

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After breakfast, Trunks, Vegeta, and Bulma adjourned to the living room to discuss Trunks arrival. Bulma curled up on the couch next to Vegeta and Trunks sat in a chair opposite.

"I suppose you should get directly to the point," Bulma said, "Vegeta's going to get restless at all the training time he is missing."

Vegeta grumbled to himself. The woman knew him far to well. Trunks glanced at his fingernails in fascination as he tried to find the words.

"It's going to seem so silly now. I've come and everyone is okay, but at first, before I came…." His voice drifted off and he shook himself quickly.

"Sorry, that made absolutely no sense. Basically, I had a nightmare that someone tried to kill Bulma and her daughter. But I have come here and Bulma doesn't have a daughter, or do you?"

Bulma shook her head shyly. "No, but now I have hope." She smiled at Vegeta who rolled his eyes, but could not completely hide his pleasure.

"You should stay, anyway," Vegeta said, shocking the other two occupants. "Just in case. Besides, with Goku dead, you will make a tough sparring partner and you can definitely use the practice."

Bulma was shocked to the core, but refrained from commenting. So it was true. Vegeta did care for this alternate son. It was amazing! And yet, Bulma had always known there were depths to her Prince, one just had to search for them.