A/N...New story.

We've seen him in battle, and we watch in awe at his amazing, formidable strength, and his use of his mastery tactics in battle strategy, but here's to a battle the Prince of all Saiyans has yet to face...Tending to his family's needs during their bout with the common cold all the while trying to keep from catching it himself.

Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ.

Trunks shook his head in utter disbelief. Of all the luck, his baby sister chose this week to infect him with the pesky flu virus. He's been known to fake sickness to get out of school, of course the only person that fell for his feigned coughing and sneezes were his mother, and his suspecting father had never been one to confront his suspicion on his son's efforts to avoid school. In all honesty, he believed the boy was being held back at school than he would with private homeschooling. But Bulma had gone out of her way to enroll trunks into the city's most prestigious middle schools and Vegeta knew anyone opposing her efforts would suffer her wrath.

Trunks stomped his way to his room, he'd made six trips to the bathroom, and all with the sole purpose to regurgitate. His mother's cooking was bad, but he had no trouble holding them down before. But with his immune system depleting, it seemed more of a challenge. He stopped midway and turned to face his baby sister's room. He narrowed his eyes and changed his course.

Barging in with a deep scowl Trunks was shock to find his little sister sitting diligently on the floor rug playing with her dolls. Just yesterday the saiyan princess lied limp on her bed screaming every ten minutes for her mommy and daddy's nurturing assistance. (It was more Bulma than Vegeta since he'd made it clear from the start he does not tend well to the ill.) And now she was healthier than a lion. The little girl who had been occupied with her dolls finally looked up to her brother. She offered him a small smile; a smile Trunks knew all too well. She was mocking him.

"What are you doing?" He growled. The young blue haired girl responded with a cool shrug. But that action only seemed to prod the young saiyan prince's anger. He brought his fists up and once again demanded an explanation out of Bra, "How are you better?!"

The young girl sighed and pushed her small body off the floor. She placed her dolls back in their house and made her way towards her brother. Trunks stiffened at her advancement. He had little knowledge of the contagion and it's infectious power so his only act of offense against the virus was to avoid it all together. He feared that any other contact with Bra could worsen his sickness. Bra noticed his discomfort and let out a mischievous smile.

"Can I have a hug?" Her sweet high voice held a dangerous manipulative tone. Trunks shuddered at the striking similarities the girl held to their father's personality.

"Get away from me!" The twelve year old yelled and made a break for the halls. Bra not wanting to end this beautiful opportunity of entertainment followed him. Her small arms held out straight in front of her and her walk emulating that of a zombie. "Stop!" Trunks commanded, his face turning blue with fear. He turned his head slightly to make sure his sister was still a safe distance. Not watching where he was going lead him into a predicament he had dreaded. With great speed Trunks Collided—hard—with his father. The collision had more effect on Trunks than Vegeta, but that didn't stop the elder prince fuse from exploding.

"What are you doing boy!" Vegeta's tone sent chills down Trunks back. It was clear his father was not in a mood. Vegeta glared daggers at the boy. Not aware of the collision ahead, Bra continued her zombie rampage. She stopped abruptly and before pivoting on her heels to run from any possible sentence. Vegeta's voice boomed for her to stop on her trail.

"What the hell are you two doing causing all this raucous ?" The elder prince questioned once again, this time his eyes averting from Trunks to Bra.

"Mom said not to say 'hell' in front of Bra, remember." Trunks bit out feebly. Redirecting the conversation was something that could be done to Bulma, but Vegeta did not tolerate any weak attempt of escaping a punishment.

Vegeta crossed his arms, "Don't try any of that!" He admonished. Trunks gulped nervously and recoiled at his father's rising anger. Only a miracle could pull him from this mess. Unfortunately the only miracle was for him to muster up the courage to whip a terse explanation. That he could not do.

Impatience overtook the elder saiyan and with a relenting eye roll he ordered them back to their room. He had let them off easily this time. The reason being was in midst of the whole ordeal he'd witnessed Bra using her forearm to wipe snot from her nose. That action had reprimanded him of their illness, and that was enough for him to let them off the hook.

On his way back to his room, Vegeta made a quick stop at the bathroom. He wouldn't call himself a germaphobe…the fear of germs was a weakness he viewed as inexcusable. But if he wanted to fight and train at his best he couldn't risk catching that mangy virus. After making sure his hands were rid of any possible virus he went to his room.

He had trained for seven hours nonstop, and decided to reward himself with a 2 hour nap. He slid underneath the cover and before too long the saiyan prince had fallen captive to his slumber. Outside of his door, Trunks and Bra pressed their ears, intently listening.

"Did we get daddy sick?" Bra pouted sullenly.

"I doubt it."

"I hope you two didn't do anything too grave to upset your dad," came a familiar voice, "I don't have it in me to wedge myself between another dispute." Bulma, still dressed in her lab coat, approached her children. From her drooping eyes it was evident the heiress was exhausted. She had been serious about not having it in her to come between another family squabble. This time whatever cruel punishment her husband concocted for any of their foolish behaviors was to go by unnoticed by her. She quirked an eyebrow at their guilty expression and squared her arms on her hips, "What is it did you do?"

Bra and Trunks exchanged looks and dropped their eyes to the floor offering their mother silence for her question. "Fine, don't tell me. But if you'll excuse me…I've got a bed in there calling my name." She finally huffed.

Trunks was the first to speak up, "We didn't do anything. He was just in one of his moods."

"Oh boy," she sighed with an eye roll. She also didn't have it in her to deal with her cranky husband. All the fight she had exhausted themselves in the lab. All she could offer the man if he were to fire any shots at her would be shoulder shrugs, eye rolls, and under the breath mumbles. All which excited his temper even more.

With regard to her children's anxious apprehension, she sent them back to their activities and entered the dragon's lair. To her astonishment, the man her kids had just admonished was in a cranky mood was asleep. She let out a sigh of relief, and undressed herself slipping into formal nightwear.

"You know," the heiress began, while applying her face mask, "you don't look as formidable when you're sleeping…with your guard down."

"A warrior's guard is never down." Vegeta's words came out muffled and lethargic, but it was still enough to scare the blue haired woman to jolt backwards. She knit her eyebrows at her husband and proceeded to their private bathroom.

From the bathroom Bulma called out, "Why were the kids on their guards?" When Vegeta didn't answer, Bulma poked her head through the door to see if he was still partially awake. From his silence she deduced that he was too tired to form words, or he was just being a brat.

"Sweety," Bulma called out a few minutes later. There was a quiver in her voice that caused Vegeta to crack one eye, but his silence was still not broken. If the woman needed anything she knew damn well she wouldn't get it from him while he was under these covers. Bulma's voice came again, but this time shrill, "Vegeta!"

"What!"

"Who threw up on the toilet seats!" Vegeta's eye snapped open and in a fragment of a second he was in the bathroom. He stared in absolute disgust at the seat and took a few steps back. The vomit was of undefinable colors and lumps, and the smell…the smell was worse than anything he'd ever come to contact with. For a warrior of his caliber, that was saying a lot. Not even blood and rotting corpse smelled as bad.

Bulma used her fingers to pinch her nose shut, and with a nasal sounding voice she said, " Was it you."

With a very indignant tone he shot back, "of course not!" He had both his hands cupping over his mouth and nose. Flummoxed by the whole thing, Bulma tiptoed out of the bathroom and grabbed her slippers. She then pulled a box of cleaning agents and scampered back to the bathroom. Something told her that the culprit was either one of his children. Her thoughts flew back to earlier when she noticed the kids with their ears pressed behind the door. Of course! they were checking to see If Vegeta had seen it. She mused. Forgetting of their shared bond, Bulma slapped a hand over her lips, and looked up to her husband. Vegeta's expression snapped from disgust to homicidal.

"Vegeta," Bulma's tone was appeasing, "Don't do anything ra—"

"If anything rash disentitles me from beating them to the next dimension…then, I can't promise." He seethed, the disgust still in his eyes. He tried his hardest to wipe all memory of the wonky substance, but the smell almost always redrew the image.

By now the kids had made it out of the compound completely. Although not a culprit in the fiasco, Bra was dragged in unwillingly. Trunks had a few blackmails over her, and they were enough to make her staunch to her brother's current dilemma. The person they feared for discovering was their dad. Their mother, her reaction might be a bit cantankerous, but not enough to have them thinking of changing their names and ID.

Trunks threw a second look back at the compound. His muscles were sore, and his nose was stuffy. His chest scalding from the coughing he had done from over exerting his ill body. Bra was still a bit under the weather herself, but she had enough strength in her to fly. Trunks on the other hand, took to his journey by foot.

Back at the compound a raging Vegeta stormed the halls shouting in asperity, "TRUNKS! BRA!" He could sense they were longer in the compound. Not only did he feel rage for their act, but now he was feeling disappointment. He had taught them that running from battle was a cowardly thing to do. It would, if not, worsen their punishment.

A/N...I really hope you enjoyed it.

Find out what happens to Trunks and Bra in the next chapter.