Child of Magic 
		The Saiyan Formerly Known as Prince


	Vegeta was sitting cross-legged in the shattered remains 
of the training gravity room that Bulma and her father had 
built for him. He was breathing heavily from his efforts, his 
clothing hanging from him in shreds, and his usual glare on his 
face.
	Why couldn't he do it? Know matter how hard he tried, 
he could never pass up that lowly Kakarot. He trained just as 
hard as the blundering idiot, if not harder, and yet he still could 
not pass his rival in skill or power. His confidence and anger 
faded from his face to be replaced by an emotion he rarely 
felt, let alone showed: Shame. Vegeta, crowned prince of the 
Saiyan race, had once again let his race down. 
	He had failed them by being unable to keep Frieza from 
destroying his planet and the majority of the race. He had 
failed them by not being the one to obtain the revenge for his 
people by defeating Frieza. And, more importantly to his mind, 
he failed them by allowing a lowly, third class Saiyan defeat 
him on a regular basis with apparent ease.
	He sighed and closed his eyes, a tangible pain that had 
become familiar to him ever since he met that dratted Kakarot 
rising once again to confront him. To his surprise, he had to 
blink back tears. When his eyes had cleared, he opened them 
to study the rubble around him. That rubble was another 
familiar sight to him.
	He'd spent so many years under the thumb of the evil 
that was Frieza. He had done horrible things during those 
years, but he would do no differently given the chance. Those 
events were key to making him the incredible force that he 
was. He'd seen more than his fair share of rubble and charred 
remains during his life. Of course, those strengthening events 
apparently hadn't been enough to defeat Frieza or Kakarot.
	He stood with a snarl, all of his melancholy feelings 
chipping off like old paint as he thrust an angry fist into one of 
the larger pieces of rubble. His aura flared brightly. He was 
the prince of all Saiyans, first by birth, but forever second by skill 
and ability. He growled once more before his aura flickered 
and died, his shoulders slumping.
	He stood as still as stone for several long minutes, the 
ability for coherent thinking fleeing him for that period of time, 
drowning beneath his anguish. Afterwards his shoulders 
straightened and he brought his head up to glare 
triumphantly at the horizon. He had yet to fail, and he would 
not fail in this. He would make his people proud of him if he 
had to die in order to defeat Kakarot. A confident smirk 
settling onto his rough, chiseled features, he gave a curt nod 
and began mentally preparing himself to continue his training.
	"Vegeta! How can you be so proud about demolishing 
all of my hard work?"
	He slowly turned his head to stare blankly at the female 
that was glaring coldly at him. Her hands were on her hips 
and she was tapping a bare foot on the tiled floor of the 
hallway. She was standing where the doorway to his training 
room had been, even though the entire wall was lying around 
her feet. 
	"Well, are you going to attempt to explain yourself?"
	He cocked his head and studied the woman he'd been 
living with. She was quite pretty by any planet's standards 
(not that he'd ever even hint at it to her), even though he'd 
never noticed it. He snorted and turned to face her, stalking 
closer to her. By the time he was stepping right up to her, she 
was looking distinctly nervous, but trying valiantly to hide it.
	Good. He liked strong women. And this woman, this 
Bulma, was indeed strong. She was strong in a way that was 
very different from Vegeta's physical strength. He smirked at 
her and gave a soft snort.
	"No, woman, I will not explain myself." 
	Throwing one hand to the back of her head and pulling 
her in for a kiss, she gave a shriek that was muffled by his own 
mouth. She ceased struggling pretty quickly however, and 
soon he was gathering her into his arms and flying up to his 
bedroom. As he continued his kiss, now much deeper than 
before, he smirked mentally.
	If he was going to die defeating Kakarot, he'd better 
have an heir or two. After all, he was the last of the royal line 
of the Saiyan race. He was Vegeta, Prince of the Saiyans, and 
he could do as he liked.
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