Prologue
Writer's POV

The sky was grey as white speckles of snow rained down upon the white dusted grass. Yet it wasn't winter; it wasn't autumn neither. For the people of Western City, it was to be an 'ice-age' for most of the year, where it would snow for ten months, instead of the usual three months or so. Although, it wasn't of any worry to anyone, as the weather was predicted to be mild, Capsule Corp was perforated with an uneasy atmosphere. It was unusually quiet for the usual lively place; the Gravity Room outside was quiet and empty . . . in fact, it hadn't been used for the last few months. But it wasn't because the usual inhabitant had disappeared or died; quite the opposite, really; he had a few . . . confusing thoughts on his mind.

Why had he done that? Had I really become so soft to actually believe it would work? How could this have happened to me? What's going on? Why do I feel like this?

Not the usual thoughts that laced through the prince's mind and it certainly wasn't the only thing that had changed. For one, his hormones had been off the wall for the last month; he seemed a lot more sensitive then he'd ever allowed himself to be; another would be the sudden lack of interest in fighting. Of course the other residences of Capsule Corp noticed this and had been keeping an eye on him, watching carefully as he would cautiously make his way down stairs as if he were climbing down a ragged cliff face, or worriedly hear as the prince heaved in the bathroom each morning.

His odd behaviour had ignited Dr. Briefs' intuitive mind; quickly recognising the symptoms as ones he had seen in his wife and his own daughter. Of course, he wasn't just going to proclaim the Saiyan Prince's issue was. No; he had to be sure that what he thought was happening to the prince was indeed correct ; he didn't want to upset or shock the poor boy, now, did he?

So, on this one particularly cold day, or, to be precise, late afternoon, the doctor invited him to one of his many labs, one that his daughter hardly used. The prince had found it easily enough; despite having never wandered in that part of Capsule Corp before. His, by then, slim form slipped into the room as silently as a shadow and as brisk as a casual gust of air, and he watched the scientist almost curiously before making himself noticed.

"Y-you wanted to see me . . . s-sir?" he had asked, seeming nervous as he spoke, unsure if it was actually appropriate to call him 'father' since the relationship between him and the man's daughter had sunk.

"Oh, yes, of course," Dr Briefs set aside the project he had been working on and turned to face him, "My dear boy, what seems to be the problem; you seem more paler than usual,"

"I-I . . . it's nothing . . ." Vegeta hung his head a little, tucking a loose strand of hair behind his ear; it had been doing that a lot recently, hanging down at times like a curtain draped over a window.

'Nothing' was obviously something as one would guess if they were to hear the tone in his voice; in fact, something particularly unscrupulous had happened. Just earlier that day, the prince had been 'discussing' a certain topic with Krillin and it had turned pair-shaped . . . or more like rotten pair-shaped. At that time, he and the other Z-fighter had a temporary fling. Unfortunately, the fling, or in the prince's eyes, the relationship, was based on a cruel 'Truth or Dare' game; one that involved sleeping with the Saiyan Prince.

When one would think that love was afoot, one would do anything to try and make it last. However, to the prince's dismay, the smaller Z-fighter didn't see eye-to-eye with him and did everything he could to make sure he got the picture, which, unfortunately, involved a few harsh words that made him question his own existence. It was known fairly well that, although one wouldn't think so after seeing him in such a state, the prince was a cold, arrogant man who fed on his obsession with defeating the 'almighty' Kakarot, or, as all Earthian citizens knew him as, Son Goku; the protector of Earth. It was also vastly known, among the Z-fighters and a few other individuals, that the prince was forced to live under the strict 'guide' of the evil, bloodthirsty tyrant, Frieza.

Some people would call him lucky to have managed to survive after all those years of torture and to be able to finally settle down after all those years of that nagging voice in the back of his mind, telling him what was to be done, who was to be killed and how he should act, though some people had the cruel tendency to tell him what he didn't deserve, like the recent one; he didn't deserve to be let off so easily, and that, one person in particular, should have killed him all those years ago, like he should've done. That, being said by the same person who made the prince feel so out of place, even in his home, then, in the warm confines of Dr Briefs' laboratory.

"Come here, my boy," Dr Briefs tapped on a chair beside him, observing how Vegeta hesitated before sitting down in it, "I've been noticing some peculiar changes in you; ones that seem rather familiar . . . but I'd like your permission to run some tests,"

Vegeta nodded; of course, who wouldn't have noticed his odd changes, "Okay," he whispered, agreeing.

It didn't take Dr Briefs long to run the required tests, quickly running through them and having the results within ten minutes. Although, even with the results right in front of him; he was still confused by them. Of course it was what he expected, but it was still a rather bewildering outcome. Again, he knew that it'd be inappropriate for him to . . . blurt out his discovery to the small Saiyan if he wasn't entirely sure that the outcome really was what the results said it was.

The prince watched him wearily, watching the doctor's expression closely and becoming worried when he saw the confusion in his eyes. He shifted nervously on the bench he was told to sit on, his fists clenching on the sheet beneath him; what did the results say; why wouldn't Dr. Briefs tell him?

"U-um . . . s-sir? I-is something wrong?" he had asked quietly.

The doctor was quiet for a moment, rereading the results.

This couldn't be right; it's just not possible! Then again; the Saiyan Prince wasn't really a human, so anything could be possible, right?

He turned to the waiting prince, and motioned for him to lie down. Vegeta did as what was needed, though thoroughly confused and curious. The doctor then lifted his shirt up, once more observing that the other man's muscles had decreased to simple outlines; his scars tracing over his abdomen like a white spiders web. A jolt ran through Vegeta as Dr. Briefs' cold fingers touched his skin.

After a quiet apology, the doctor warmed his hands a little before placing a hand on Vegeta's mid-section again, gently probing the area. Pressing his fingers in at on spot, he was shocked when he felt something, like a lump but he knew it wasn't a tumour. Frowning, he turned and left the room, leaving the prince to stare after him in confusion and worry; what was happening? The doctor soon returned, however, with a machine that one may recognise as one a doctor may use when one was having an ultrasound.

This only amounted to the worry on Vegeta's chest and for some reason, unbeknownst to him, tears prickled in his eyes, trailing down his cheeks as the doctor turned on the machine. The doctor was surprised to see them.

"My dear boy, what's the matter?" he queried.

"What's wrong with me?" Vegeta asked, his voice breaking a little.

"Well, that's what I'm trying to find out-,"

"You know," Vegeta interrupted him, and then gulped, feeling guilty that he had interrupted him, "S-sorry . . ."

"Don't worry about it, my boy; I'm just triple-checking to be sure," Dr. Briefs explained as he set up the machine, squirting some gel on the probe before pressing it on Vegeta's abdomen.

Vegeta winced at the cold substance, but settled as the probe was moved across his belly, looking up at the screen curiously. At first, it just displayed, what Vegeta though, what was normal, but then, when the probe was moved over to a different spot, he noticed something small. His eyes widened, gasping as his heart sped up a little. Was that . . . ? Th-that couldn't be . . . Vegeta looked up at Dr. Briefs to see that he had noticed it too, frowning a little.

"S-sir?"

The doctor didn't reply, instead adjusting something on the machine, zooming in onto that spot. The prince's heart jumped in his chest, his breath caught in his throat. Before, it looked more like a bean, but with it close up, he could see that it was a developing foetus. A baby. However, Vegeta's bewilderment was short-lived when he noticed the agitated doctor. He was shocked when Dr. Briefs hastily packed up the machine and tossed him a cloth. Frowning in confusion, Vegeta wiped off the gel and sat up.

"I'm sorry . . ." Dr. Briefs whispered before turning to face him, but you have to leave,"

Vegeta's heart sank, distress overwhelming him.

"W-what . . . what do you mean?"

"I want you out of my house," the doctor clarified.

Once more, tears welled up in the prince's eyes as they went wide. He stared in utter shock, feeling somewhat betrayed and hurt; estranged by Dr. Briefs' sudden change of attitude. A choked whimper escaped him before he rushed out of the room.