New category, new story! For those who are following my other ones...I apologize. Serious writer's block. But I'm working on it. Bare with me! And to those who are looking forward to this, enjoy~

A series of stories involving Vegeta and his family.

Chapter 1: "Sayaing"

As the Prince of all Saiyans - something he repeatedly reminded friends, family and stranger alike - Vegeta was very fond of his supernatural abilities. He liked being able to build muscle, he liked his unimaginable strength and speed and agility and prided himself on being a keen tactician in the heat of battle. His senses were much more sensitive in comparison to a human and he was proud of this. Hell, he bragged about it on many occasions.

However, as much as he loved being a Saiyan, Vegeta found himself being virtually betrayed by his own heightened senses. He had been minding his business for the first half of the day, jovially training in the Gravity Machine, achieving new levels of the awesomeness that was he, when his ears were assaulted with the shrill screams of his five-year old son.

He growled, finding the sound almost as bad at the shrill screech of Bulma's voice. The man made no move to go figure out what was wrong with the boy. He knew that Bulma would be tending to his every need and whim. Anyway, it was no secret that Vegeta hadn't really started off running with this whole 'fatherhood' charade. He had only recently began acknowledging the boy and even that was rare.

A full five minutes passed and Vegeta could still hear his son crying. Where was the woman? Or her parents? He was slowly acquiring a headache. How much air did the kid have in his lungs?

It took three more minutes until Vegeta grudgingly left the Gravity Room and ventured into the house to seek out Trunks. He found the purple haired boy lying on the kitchen floor, tiny hands balled into fists, screaming and crying at the ceiling. There was blood on the floor and spilled silverware.

Vegeta accessed the situation carefully before walking over. Trunks, having sensed his father near, quickly ceased his crying and looked up. Vegeta could now see the problem. The boy had cut his leg on something sharp, tearing a giant gash down his thigh.

"Daddy, I got a boo boo!" Trunks cried, holding out his arms.

A boo boo? The man scowled, realizing that he wasn't equipped to deal with this and wondering where in the hell the woman was. "Stop crying!" He snapped, only causing his son to cry louder. He sighed and picked him up, placing him on the kitchen table.

Trunks sniffed and grabbed his leg, a pained expression on his face. "It hurts..."

"Well what do you want me to do about it?"

"Do what mommy does!"

Vegeta winced, holding a hand to his ear. "And just what does your mommy-eh, what does your mother do?"

But Trunks only cried harder, seemingly ignoring the question. He flailed his arms and big, fat tears spilled out from his squinted eyes, leaving his shirt wet. Vegeta clenched his teeth. Why was his son such a crybaby? It wasn't even that big of a cut. This was the result of the woman, smothering him for every little thing, making him weak.

Even after his father patched up the scratch and put a bandage over it, Trunks wouldn't stop crying and he wouldn't stop to say what exactly was wrong.

What the hell does he want!? Vegeta was desperate to find anything to stop his son from his shrieking. He zoomed throughout the house, pulling toys that he had seen Trunks play with and showing them to him in an attempt to calm him down.

The boy continued crying.

Vegeta pulled out cakes and cookies and ice cream, knowing that Bulma would have a fit, and shoved them into the boy's mouth.

Trunks wailed louder.

At a complete loss, Vegeta bellowed, "WOULD YOU JUST BE QUIET!?"

Trunks instantly quieted, staring at his dad with wide eyes.

"You're crying and crying about a tiny, insignificant scratch! Do you want to see something to really cry about!?" Vegeta rolled up the sleeve of his shirt, revealing a jagged, ugly scar on his forearm. "This is something to weep about! Not your baby 'boo boos'!"

"That's a big boo boo." Trunks stated, reaching out to touch it with a chubby finger, no longer worried about his own pain. "Did it hurt?"

Vegeta was surprised to find that his son seemed especially interested in his scar. And that was saying a lot because the boy's little five-year old brain could barely concentrate on one thing for too long. "No. It didn't hurt."

"Wow, you must be really strong, daddy. If that didn't hurt."

"Well I am strong." He smirked, folding his arms across his chest.

"Can I be as strong as you?"

Vegeta almost scoffed. "Not if you sit and cry about every little thing." He grunted. "You're a Saiyan. Toughen up."

"What's a...Sa-yaing?"

"Saiyan. A Saiyan." Vegeta shook his head. "Forget about it, you'll learn about that later."

"Okay daddy." Trunks said, scrunching up his face in seriousness. "I won't cry anymore. I'll be the best Sayaing in the world. And I'll be big and strong, like you."

Vegeta smirked, realizing that he didn't really dislike the thought of Trunks looking up to him. "Good boy." He lifted him off of the table and placed him on the ground. "Now stay out of the kitchen."

Trunks nodded and started to waddle his way out. Suddenly, he stopped and turned around to look up at his father. Then he tore off the bandage on his thigh, leaving his freshly raw scar out in the open.

Vegeta raised an eyebrow in question, watching him toss the bandage in the trash. "What'd you do that for?"

Trunks, in all of his five-year old glory, grinned. "I'm gonna keep my scars. To show people how strong I am. Like you."

Then the purple haired boy walked out of the kitchen, muttering about how he couldn't wait to be the best 'Sayaing' in the world.