Second Chances

Prologue

A/N: So I'm writing a Vegeta/Chichi fic because Goku is such a boob sometimes. This is set after the Cell Games and Goten was never conceived. Hope you enjoy and review and tell me if I should continue

Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ

Rating: M (for language and sex)

I

I

Chichi sighed as her dazzling black hair blew against the gentle wind that traveled through the forest before caressing her cheeks and melding with the stray strands of black hair that hadn't been pulled back into her typical bun. Today was a day like no other. Deep inside her she felt something stirring, something wakening and greeting the day. The strange feelings of life and rebirth frightened her. Something was going to happen soon. She could feel it. Despite her knowing better, as years of longing taught her that most of her hoping and praying had been in vain, she wanted what she felt to be Goku returning back to her. But it had been two years since he died during the Cell Games and she had relinquished the idea of him ever coming back. Now he was in the other dimension doing the only thing he truly ever loved: fighting.

"Mom, are you ready?" asked her thirteen year old son from the doorway, his eyes bright with anticipation.

Chichi looked to him and smiled bashfully. She was still in her bathrobe. "Not really Gohan, I'm sorry."

The little boy smiled lovingly at this mother. "That's okay mom," he said. "It's just, Mr. Vegeta doesn't like to wait and…"

"I know baby," she said, distraught. "Just give me five minutes and I'll be down, I promise."

Keeping her word, Chichi quickly dressed. She reached into her closet and pondered pulling out her typical dress and pants outfit when something stopped her. She wasn't Goku's dutiful wife anymore. Gone were the days when she tried to keep herself covered so that Goku's eyes were the only one's that saw what was underneath the several layers of clothes she wore. Now Goku was dead, and Chichi was all alone. Instead of the purple dress, she opted for a black sweater and blue jeans, things she had bought for herself when Goku and Gohan weren't around but never wore. After throwing on the clothing she dashed to the mirror staring at her reflection. It had been so long since she tended to herself, since she put on makeup or brushed her hair the way she used to. Years ago she was seventeen, full of life and recently married. Now she was thirty, tired, sad and widowed. Where had the time gone? She knew the answer to that. She had devoted all of her time to her beautiful son and her ungrateful husband.

She sighed before grabbing the hair brush that lay idle of the counter of the vanity table. With measured movements she pulled the bobby pins from the tight bun atop her head, letting her black hair fall down her back with a dazzling display of finesse and softness. She reached out and brushed her hair, long gentle strokes that made her scalp tingle pleasantly. She watched as the ends of hair curled into soft waves as she ran the brush through her silky strands, appreciating the way the sunlight made her hair shine. She wondered why she never wore it down before and for the life of her, couldn't remember. Tired of pulling her hair into the same style she let it hang freely behind her, the loose curly ends dangling against the soft fabric of the sweater she wore. Remembering that Gohan needed to be at Bulma's in West City for training with Vegeta, the surly man that had fathered her child Trunks, she quickly applied some shiny lip gloss that Bulma had bought her, grabbed a coat and headed for her bedroom door. Her stomach lurched as she touched the doorknob. Something was definitely going to happen soon.

I

I

Gohan eagerly pressed the doorbell for the third time as he and his mother waited outside of the huge mansion that belonged to the Brief's family. It had taken them almost an hour to get there and by the time they did, Gohan was anxious to see the five year old child Trunks that he had grown to think of as a brother. Her child raised his hand to the bell one more time before the front door flew open, a frowning man fuming behind it.

"You don't have to ring the damn door so much, brat!" growled Vegeta. He looked especially pissed today. "You're late."

"That was my fault," said Chichi intervening on her sons behalf. "How are you Vegeta?"

Quickly he took in his rival's mate's appearance. She looked…different, to say the least. She still wore the same forlorn expression on her face, no doubt missing her Saiya-jin scum husband, but Vegeta quickly noticed that her hair was down and that she wasn't wearing that insipid dress contraption that she constantly donned.

"Whatever, woman. Come inside, he's already late. Go to the gravity room, brat!" cried Vegeta. Gohan thought about kissing his mother but decided against it. He didn't need Vegeta making fun of him. Quickly he sprinted to the familiar room after glancing at his mother and mouthing a quick goodbye.

"Well?" asked Vegeta snidely as Chichi continued to remain in front of the door.

"Is Bulma here? She asked me have lunch with her-"

"Not yet," he said.

"Don't interrupt me!" cried Chichi. Vegeta smiled; he remembered how demanding this wench usually was and laughed at her temper.

"I will do as I please, I am-"

"The prince of all Saiya-jins," replied Chichi in a tired tone. "We know, Vegeta. Can I come in?"

"Not with that attitude," he said, as he began to close the door.

"Don't you dare close the door on me," growled Chichi. The sad look on her face quickly dissipated and Vegeta found himself faced with a glowering and fairly angry woman. He smirked before opening the door.

"She's out, she'll be back soon," he grunted at her as she entered and closed the door behind her.

"Fine," said Chichi. "What are you going to be doing to my son today?"

"Nothing you'd understand," said Vegeta as he led her to the gravity room.

"Excuse me," she said. "I used to be a fighter you know."

"Yes, woman I do know. But now you're just a wife."

Chichi sighed sadly behind him. "No," she said quietly. "I'm not that anymore either."

Vegeta knew that he had touched a nerve but he didn't dare apologize. He was a prince after all, and apologizing wasn't his thing. "You're still married to Kakarrot, even if he is dead."

She sighed behind him but made no reply. What he said was true, no matter how much she didn't want it to be. "He'll be learning defense techniques."

"What? asked Chichi, caught off guard. She had been staring at the various family photos that lined the walls of the Briefs compound. In every single one of them everyone had been smiling and carefree. Everyone except for Vegeta, he wore his usual expression; one of utter disgust. She chuckled to herself.

"Is something funny?" he asked before turning to her and scowling.

"Yes," she said, seething with anger. She hated how Vegeta spoke to her and her son and wasn't exactly fond of him as a person.

"What?" he barked.

"You and these pictures. I didn't know it was possible for someone to be pissed every freaking day."

"Yes you do," he said, smirking at her. "You were married to Kakarrot."

She chuckled lightly. What he said was true. She probably spent more time mad at Goku than she did happy with him. She saddened at the thought. No wonder he left. Not wanting to speak with Vegeta anymore she quickly walked around him and headed to the gravity room.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"I won't bother you Vegeta," she said, spinning to face him. "I'm just going to wait for Bulma. I…I don't want to be alone."

Vegeta glared at the woman before nodding and walking beside her. He actually felt sorry for Chichi. She was married to a buffoon who constantly got himself killed all the time and worse he left her with a child. Bulma wasn't his favorite person for most of the time they spent together but he would never abandon his kid the way that clown Kakarrot did.

"She should be back soon," said Vegeta as he entered the gravity room. Chichi sat in the control room and watched as Vegeta immediately began barking orders to her son and Trunks.

She watched her husband's rival fight with fluid movements, calculated moves and precise punches. He was so focused and so strong. She would watch Goku train from time to time when she was bored. Goku always seemed to train with a smile on his face. She knew deep down that he enjoyed fighting more than anything, but watching the man who had once tried to kill her husband she realized that Goku rarely had the same focus Vegeta did. She sighed. It didn't matter now. Goku was dead, and this time he wasn't coming back. She watched them fight for what seemed like hours and when she got a call from Bulma on her cell phone she realized that it had been hours. Her blue haired friend quickly apologized for not showing up explaining that she had an emergency at one of the Capsule Corps factories and that they wouldn't be able to meet for lunch. Chichi agreed and gathered her things to leave when a familiar voice stopped her.

"She stand you up?" asked Vegeta, sweat pouring down his body and making a shallow puddle on the ground.

Chichi frowned. "She had an emergency at work."

Vegeta swore. "She seems to have those a lot lately," he said angrily. "I'm hungry and your brat says you can cook. Make us something to eat!"

"Make your own damn food!" she cried, picking up her sweater and moving to the door.

"Your kid is hungry too. I could give him ice cream." Chichi looked appalled.

"Fine! But you want to eat then go take a shower first!"

"Don't you tell me what to fucking do!"

"No shower, no food. I can take Trunks and Gohan home and feed them at my house and you can starve here."

Vegeta grimaced. This woman was more annoying than Bulma. "Fine," he muttered, before climbing the stairs to the bedroom he and Bulma shared to clean himself. She ordered that the boys do the same thing. Quickly she found her way to the huge kitchen and opened the fridge. She found it packed with take out and assumed correctly that Bulma wasn't much of a cook. She pulled out chicken, cheeses, pasta, a loaf of bread, butter and various seasonings before whipping up a huge amount of pasta and portioning it off into the biggest bowls she could find. She wondered if Vegeta ate as much as Goku.

Once dinner was ready, the boys raced to the table and begun to dig in. Moments later, Vegeta causally strolled in sat down in front of the largest bowl of steaming food.

"What is this?" he asked.

"Pasta."

He glared at the plate silently before picking up the fork and spooning a heaping amount into his mouth. He sighed in pure delight. Bulma had never been able to cook anything like this for him. Hell, with the trash she served him, he was surprised he was still alive.

"You approve?" asked Chichi, passing him a slice of garlic bread that she had made.

"It's fine." Chichi noticed that his manners were far better then Goku's and attributed it to him being Saiya-jin royalty. Once all the boys had cleaned their plates Chichi quickly collected all the dishes. She was about to roll up her sleeves when she felt Vegeta's hand grab her wrist and spin her around to face him.

"We have a maid, you know," said Vegeta. "Leave the dishes there."

Chichi looked down to where Vegeta was holding her. His hand was calloused and rough, but the pressure on her wrist made her feel something bubbling inside her that she hadn't felt in a very long time. Vegeta couldn't help but notice how soft her wrists were. Without thinking he let his fingers drift down to her hands before dropping them to his sides. Bulma's hands were rough from being a mechanic, but Chichi's felt like liquid silk against his fingertips. He quickly brushed away these thoughts before exiting the room. Chichi leaned quietly against the counter thinking of Vegeta and wondering why the hell Bulma wanted to marry him so much. She could never see herself with anyone like Vegeta. Not in a million years.