That Which a Rose

The Beginning

AN – Ok, so I randomly decided to change this story a bit (for those who remember it). It's based after Buu a few years, and instead of being a largely romance based fic, this'll end up being more like a mix of angst, suspense, horror, psycological thriller-ness, and romance. :D

"Good morning Vegeta."

"Morning Bulma. You going to take a shower after breakfast?"

"Not enough time. We have to leave by 8:30, remember?"

The conversation was so light, and the attitude that filled the air was all but normal. A warm, inviting glow filled their kitchen and all the gentle creatures within lazily bustled about their usual business. The main woman of the household placed food before her absent-minded husband as he sipped a cup of steaming coffee and brushed up on the news with a paper in hand. Bulma, their only daughter, was brushing aside her own daughter's hair as Trunks shoved the last few chunks of cereal into his mouth. Vegeta sat off to the side, chewing quietly on eggs and meat, as though he owned the place in a purely reserved fashion, and everything within the kitchen seemed normal as normal could be.

What a life, eh? The richest man in the world as her father and the prince of all the Saiyans as her lover. She still couldn't really believe how everything had played out. How did she manage to get Vegeta to stay with her anyway? He had always been a rowdy, cold-hearted man, yet as he patted his daughter's head, Bulma couldn't help but wonder in warm awe. He had changed so much, so drastically, and it had been for her and the family she created. Vegeta looked up as Bra ran off to watch a little more tv, and he grunted characteristically towards her, hardly even glancing away from his plate to speak.

"It's impolite to stare, you know."

Bulma smiled and ripped a chunk out of her apple.

"It's impolite to not look at someone when you're talking to them."

Her voice tingled with soft mockery, and his dark eyes glinted with a subdued mischievousness at her words. He suppressed a soft snort and continued eating.

"You're tongue will kill you, Dearest."

She laughed at him and shook her head softly.

"Whatever. Look, I need to take Bra to Jenny's for the day. You're still meeting the realtor at 11, right?"

He nodded nonchalantly and waved his hand towards her.

"Yes yes, and I'll make sure to pick her up at 3, and get them both in bed by 9. Don't worry, you've all done this a million times, I can handle it."

Bulma smiled as she thrust a few loose papers into a black portfolio. Bunny had just left the room to finish packing for their little trip, and Dr. Briefs was finishing off his final cup.

"Dad, you've got the presentations on your laptop, right?"

He nodded as he stood and rubbed his mustache.

"Yes Dear, no worries. I just have to go find it real quick."

"Well hurry, the plane leaves in an hour and you know how traffic is up there."

He waved to his daughter and hobbled off mumbling something, and Bulma turned her attention back upon her husband.

"You've got the emergency numbers?"

A nod was given as he chewed on another sliver of bacon.

"And you know where the money is I've left you? And make sure that when you pick up Bra you–"

"Alright, alright!"

He chuckled at her and continued before she could overwhelm him with more information he already knew.

"Can't a man eat in peace, Woman? I'm not a child, I can take care of things for a few days, no problem."

She smiled at him and nodded, her façade less confident and vivacious as normal, and grabbed another random fruit from the basket.

"Alright. Take care."

She practically leapt from her place and paused for a moment to give Vegeta an unwanted peck on the check. He grumbled playfully and as she straightened up quickly, she looked down at him with teasing eyes.

"Don't burn down the house or anything until I get back, alright?"

A primal grin washed over his face and he swiped at her backside, missing purposefully and grumbling at her while turning back to his plate.

"Get your father in the car or you'll never make it."

"Right, bye Vegeta."

With that, she was out of the room, and after a few more minutes of distant hustle, silence resumed with only the hum of a forgotten television singing in the background. Vegeta's eyes faded slightly, but suddenly grew darker as he refocused upon his skimpy plate of food. Egg, ham, toast, swimming in a sweet, syrupy liquid. An earthly feast for an earthly king. He poked at the items, his eyes growing darker with each passing moment, and he bowed his head, as though in shame, and listened despondently as the car rumbled down the driveway and rushed off to the airport.

Rage exploded from within him, and he furiously swept off the abandoned plates and cups. The china crashed all around him as he leapt to his feet, standing like a tiger before flipping the table through his rage. He stood, glaring heatedly down at the damaged table as specks of dust danced sorrowfully in the light that graced his hair. The tv laughed, faintly, distantly, as shards fell and settled around the feet of a defeated, forgotten Prince.