Mustache

by meganechan720

Someone has found proof that Vegeta used to be a murderous alien, and he needs an image change, fast. "We could cut your hair… have you grow a mustache, something like that," the PR guy suggested. Vegeta gave him a flat stare. "That's a terrible idea."

1. Prologue

Prologue

Vegeta looked down at his daughter, who was holding his hand. He didn't like the idea of using her in a publicity stunt, but it had to be done. He squeezed her hand gently and sent her a small, questioning telepathic nudge. She lifted her head, pinning him with her eyes, and then (though she had her mother's coloring, Bra was her father's daughter) walloped him on the meat of his thigh. Then she leaned her head on the spot where she had struck him and sent him an answering wave of love and assurance that hit him harder than the not insignificant blow. He gazed at her, drinking in the huge affection and love that he could hardly believe were directed at him.

The makeup girl cleared her throat uncomfortably, and he lifted his head and glared, though mostly just on principle. Then he released his daughter's hand and sat in the makeup chair like it was a throne, head held high, as though daring them to do their worst. The girl gulped, slowly drew a comb and a pair of scissors from her apron pockets, and advanced.

Vegeta did not close his eyes, but he kept his concentration on his daughter, playing peacefully nearby. It was the only way he was going to get through this.