A Series of Fortunate Events
|Hymn for the Weekend|
"Yes."
"No."
"Yes."
"…no."
The verbal ping-pong match that was currently underway in front of the 9-year-old was particularly amusing. Oh sure, he had seen these spats before. From time to time they were usually over his antics, but today his father was the sole bearer of his mother's wrath. A ghost of a smirk, all too familiar for anyone with an ounce of Saiya-jin blood running through their veins, flittered across his face as his mother sat back, exasperation oozing from her countenance.
"Dammit, I said yes!"
"And I said no, Bulma," her husband ground out, saying it with the usual air of finality he felt when he had won the argument.
Trunks snickered, watching his mother's nostrils flare while her cheeks blushed in slight flattery. Ever since his father's death—and soon-followed resurrection—the tiniest bit of humanity surfaced in the man before him. Granted, he was still a rough, impatient asshole from time to time, but it was the little things, such as saying his mother's name instead of "Woman", that caused everyone within earshot that knew him to pause and openly gape at him. It was nearly a year since that battle, though, so while the Prince had evolved a smidge, it was less and less surprising.
Bulma slammed her palm flat on the table, earning eyebrow raises from the males seated on either side of her. "I don't understand why you're so against this. Think of how much easier life would be on all of us if you would just acquiesce to my one, simple request."
Vegeta's scowl deepened, his palms both flat on the table in a show non-escalatory behavior, whatever the hell that meant. "Because I can simply get around quicker my way versus using whatever contraption you would strap me into."
"You—" The blue-eyed beauty felt her teeth clench shut. Arguing with him would simply get her nowhere…she felt she should've learned that in their 10+ years of living together. Still stubborn as ever, she had hoped that for once, she could get him to comply and do this one, menial task. It was so simple that even some of the dumbest people she knew had been able to accomplish it.
And with that, her eyes lit up, a smirk rivaling her boys' stretched across her face. "You know," she started again, picking up a manual and flipping through it uninterestedly. "Son-kun and Piccolo got it done years ago. I'm quite surprised, really," she added, cutting off her husband before he could interject. "Just think of how they must've struggled with it."
Trunks looked up at his father in time to see the older man's eye twitch. It wasn't often that Vegeta's usual mask of indifference was so easily dropped, but at the mention of Goku's name, the usually stoic alien was almost always ready to jump out of his seat and rocket into the air. The kid honestly couldn't understand what the deal was to make his father practically spit fire whenever Goten's dad came up in conversation. Sure the guy was strong…most likely the strongest person in the universe. As far as he was concerned, however, Goku was still a ghost. His 7-year absence may have given him the advantage of non-stop training, but it had done nothing to convince the demi that the bright-eyed third class warrior was any better of a man than his father.
"Kakarotto has the IQ of the daikon he so lovingly harvests."
"I know. So for you it should be as simple as your morning katas, ne?"
Vegeta's eye twitched yet again. She was a sneaky little shit, that much he would grant his wife. Expertly, she had cornered him, knowing that his undying resolve to best Son would drive him to do her bidding, time and time again. He felt a small swell of pride as a triumphant smile replaced the wicked grin instantly. There hadn't been many days where he could see her smile light up the room in the past—he had usually abandoned his small family for the Gravity Room for the majority of every day. Since Buu though, he had sought out more of their presence in his life, even going as far as to walk with Trunks every morning and every afternoon, to and from the school bus stop. That smile was worth any small hit to his pride that he may have to endure.
His sacrifice for his family—and Earth—had made him quickly realize that while a great part of him missed the savage beast that roamed the galaxies, an even greater part of him wouldn't know what to do with himself if he had ever lost them again. Their deaths at the hand of the pink slayer had been the last nail in the proverbial coffin. His howl of rage and the sting of unshed tears were constantly present feelings that he could never shake when he was near them. The flame-haired man would quite literally do anything for them.
"Fine," he finally muttered, turning his head to the side to avoid his son's noticing the flare in his cheeks.
Bulma's fist shot up in the air, the swell of victory settled deep within her gut. It was probably the greatest battle she had won in recent memory and while she knew she couldn't poke at her husband about it, she almost felt like he had earned every jab that was to come. She looked over to Trunks who, despite spending a few hours a day locked away in the Gravity Room with his father, thereby getting to know him even better than she ever could, looked as though he believed Vegeta had performed a body swap with someone. The blue-eyed half-alien shook his head, a small laugh that eerily sounded like his father's escaping his lips.
"Thank you, Vegeta," she sighed, ruffling her son's hair as she slid the various pamphlets and manual towards the brooding man at the head of the table. Trunks shrugged, apparently over the initial shock of his father's submission to his mother's demands. It was only a matter of time anyway.
There on a yellow background, "Driver's Manual" glared up at the Prince in big, black, bold lettering. He sighed, opening the booklet with a flick of his wrist. His family beamed up at him, and while he was sure he had lost this battle, he couldn't help the small smirk that whispered across his face.
"Yeah, yeah," he finally answered, burying his nose in his studies.
He nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt Bulma's arms wrap around his neck, her chin resting comfortably on top of his head. "I love you," she murmured, arms flexing slightly to hold him as close as she could. His smirk strained against his face, willing it not to turn into an idiotic, cheesy smile. She had told him these three words on numerous occasions but the frequency of these utterances increased significantly over the last year or so. He knew he had taken these tokens of affection for granted and each time she said it, he couldn't help but wonder just what he had done to merit her undying devotion.
Vegeta tilted his head back, capturing her lips before she had a chance to skulk away to her lab. Someday he would be able to say those words back to her…but today was not that day. If she didn't know how he felt by now…
Her pleased hum resonated in the kitchen, causing their son to groan and flee before he saw more than he bargained for. "GROSS!" He whined, the chuckles of his parents following him as he ran to the living room. It didn't matter, he supposed. A wicked grin crawled back onto his face as he imagined his father going through the driver's test.
"He's definitely gonna fail," he mused aloud, his head lulling back as a fit of laughter shook his whole body.
Poor papa.
A/N: I hope everyone enjoyed this little ficclet! Honestly, this whole submission is just going to be a bunch of short stories tied together, ranging from Vegeta's childhood, to the current events in Dragon Ball Super, to even Future Trunks' timeline. I will try to not necessarily have these one-shots related to one another, but if it does happen, apologies ahead of time! As a side note, all of the titles of the chapters come from various songs that helped inspire me write each ficclet…so definitely listen to them if you want to get in the mood to read ;)
Please review, let me know what you think. I'm still trying to wrap up "Savin' Me" as I have 2 other stories floating in my head. Check out my Bio on my Page for more info! Until next time!
Pearl 3
