...........................................................................................~* BROKEN HOME
.........................................................................................................................Rhapsody~*




..................... Three Years Later, at Capsule Corps.




Vejita leaned further back on his elbows and focused his attention on Bulma and Trunks, who were flying a kite together nearby. It was a beautiful summer afternoon without a cloud in the sky nor in the heart. They were in the spacious backyard of Capsule Corps., and dandelions bloomed everywhere around them. Mrs. Briefs had insisted that the yard workers trim the lawn around them, which had turned out to be an activity that Vejita enjoyed watching. One wouldn't believe how flustered the workers could get. Besides Vejita, of course, but only because he watched it every day like an avid football fan.

As a matter of fact, the only unpleasant thing about this day was the person sitting next to him. Kakkarott, or Goku, if you were missing a few brain cells--the idiot who had caused him so much stress in the last four or five years. He had long since stopped inviting the man over to do anything but spar, and even that he only did occasionally. Ever since the birth of Trunks it had become routine for Goku to just...show up. While Vejita might have minded, he tolerated it only because of the pleasant effect it tended to have on Bulma. The girl pretty nearly glowed when she had her close friends around her, and even Vejita was not willing to deny her that. Her new life was not an easy one, and she needed every break she could get.

"Weeeeee!" Trunks squealed happily, pointing a chubby little finger at the kite. "Mommy, weeeee!"

Bulma laughed and bent down to speak to her son, her beautiful smile lighting up her face. "Whatever you say, little man." With another little giggle, she set the kite string aside and proceeded to tickle Trunks mercilessly, causing him to erupt in peals of laughter. They made a lovely picture.

Goku sighed from beside Vejita, breaking him out of his reverie. "Its nice to see Bulma relaxing like this. I was really worried that things weren't going to work out. I still get worried sometimes, in fact."

"Thanks for ruining a peaceful, silent moment, you dumbass," Vejita muttered. "Are you blind? She's always happy when she's with the brat." It was only partly true, but Vejita didn't care.

"Well..." Goku thought for a moment. "I'm not too sure about that one, Vejita."

"Hey Vejita!" Bulma called over, shading her crystal-clear blue eyes from the scorching summer sun. "Come and watch your son! I have to sit down for a minute. This little guy is wearing Mommy down."

Vejita sighed in reluctance and slowly got up. "Do I have to? Kami woman, its only been an hour!"

Bulma put her hands on her hips and frowned at him as he approached leisurely. "Well, unlike you, I actually do OTHER things with my time besides fanatically exercise!" Though her tone was serious, her eyes were teasing and she brushed up against him 'innocently' as she passed.

"Bite me..." Vejita growled under his breath. He then took a deep breath and turned to his son, who was watching him with the usual expression of awe that he displayed whenever in the presence of his enigmatic father, which wasn't as often as was ideal. "What are you staring at, boy? Get that flying contraption of yours prepared!"

"Yes, Daddy--, I mean Father," Trunks said obediently. His chubby little hands worked furiously to get the string untangled and ready for flight, but his determination eventually won out. "I did it!"

Rather than help his son keep the kite in the air, Vejita stood back and merely watched. He was not what you would call a 'hands-on' father unless he had to be. Trunks was content with this and went about testing the kite's flying capabilities by himself. Vejita busied himself thinking about when he was going to teach the little demi-Saiyan to fly on his own.

Meanwhile, Bulma took Vejita's seat next to Goku, who was more than happy to converse with his childhood friend. "You seem to be in a good mood today, B-chan."

Bulma grinned and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Yeah, I guess I am. I don't get to spend time with Trunks like this as often as I would like." Her eyes got darker for a moment, and as she lowered her head her nose ring flashed in the sun. It served as a painful reminder of when times had not been so good. "Ever since Dad died, I've been spending almost every day in the office cleaning things up after him. Apparently he wasn't planning on passing away so soon. I don't have much time to dote on Trunks very much, and neither does Vejita. He's been very busy training for this hidden threat that you guys heard about."

Goku nodded knowingly. Bulma's father had died of a heart attack a few months after Trunks was born, leaving the company in Bulma's amateur hands. Things were going quite well, though--Bulma had inherited her father's skill in business, and his sympathetic coworkers had only been too happy to show her the ropes. It hadn't been long before Bulma had become a full-fledged corporate master, and there was hardly a soul in the world who didn't know it. Her takeover of Capsule Corporations had unfortunately been a very publicized one. Instead of the trendy little halter tops and sundresses her wardrobe used to be made up of, she now opened her closet to choose from one of many skirt suits and strappy, elegant shoes. It had been a hard adjustment at first, but she was getting used to it. And besides, she still had a sexy little number or two hidden in the back.

"So, how are...things?" Goku asked lightly, plucking a dandelion and ripping off its petals absently.

"As good as always, I suppose," Bulma answered. "Kami, I can't believe that I'm almost twenty-five now. I feel so old!"

Goku crossed his arms. "Hey! Are you calling me old? I'm twenty-seven, remember?"

Bulma's lips curled into a smirk that Vejita would have been proud of. "I remember. You're an old man now, Goku."

"I know, I know," Goku said. He uncrossed his arms and studied Vejita and Trunks for a moment. "You know, Vejita is going to turn out fine after all."

"'Turn out fine'?" Bulma repeated quizzically. "What does THAT mean?"

"It means that I was worried about how Vejita was going to handle this whole human life that he's been leading."

Bulma's smile disappeared. She too watched the Saiyan Prince with wistful eyes. "I wouldn't call it a human lifestyle. He'll never accept the fact that his race, even his planet, is gone forever. I can hardly blame him--I would be a wreck if I were in his position. He would have been such a good ruler."

"What makes you say that?" Goku asked. "Don't tell him that I said this, but I would definitely not want to be under his rule. I have the impression that he would be a harsh king. And I wouldn't call it a human lifestyle, either. You're still not his wife."

An expression of amusement crossed Bulma's face briefly, then it was gone. "No, I'm not. I don't think that I ever will be. Vejita just can't understand why that title is so important to humans. He thinks that being able to call me his 'woman' is enough. I can't say that I'm so eager to tie the knot, either. Besides, why should I let other people's opinions dictate my life?"

Goku shrugged. He would never understand why Vejita would not agree to marry Bulma, but it was something that he had come to accept. "But you still haven't answered my question. Why do you think that he would be a good ruler?"

Bulma sighed. "I'm not sure. He probably would be a pretty harsh king, but from what I've seen of you Saiyans, I think that that would be an appropriate way to handle things." She smiled dryly, thinking of Radditz and Nappa, and then went on. "I think that as long as he had somebody level-headed by his side to help keep his anger in check, then he could be a very powerful monarch. Even when he's just talking or eating or breathing, you can tell that he comes from royalty. Its just a feeling that comes off of him. I can't explain it."

Just then the back door of the mansion slid open and Mrs. Briefs stuck her head out. "Lunch is ready, Bulma dear! Goku, you're welcome to join us." Her voice, which was not as strong as it used to be, was cheerful.

Trunks dropped his kite and rushed into the house, always in need of a good meal. Even at his young age, he could eat more than his full-grown mother could. Vejita caught up with Bulma and Goku and frowned with displeasure.

"Did you two have a nice little chat?"

Bulma rolled her eyes. No matter what she did or how many times she reassured him, Vejita could not get over the fact that she and Goku were such good friends. Bulma wrote it off as jealousy and tended to ignore it, which usually worked nicely. Goku guessed that his hostility dated back to the instance when he had refused to tell Vejita about Bulma's pregnancy until Bulma gave him the go-ahead, which she never had. Now Vejita seemed to be thinking that they were sharing secrets again, which was almost always incorrect.

"Yes, we did," she said firmly. "Did you have a nice time with your son?"

"I should ask you the same question," Vejita shot back. He often brought up the point that Bulma spent as little time with her son as he himself did. It had become a common arguement between them. "Shouldn't you be holed up in your little office right now?"

Bulma lifted her chin and met his eyes. "Today's a Saturday. I only have to work for a few hours before dinner tonight."

Goku swallowed uncomfortably. "Uh, are you guys sure that its okay for me to stay over for a little longer?"

"Yes!" "No!" Bulma and Vejita exclaimed simultaneously.

"Umm...okay..."

Bulma slid open the back door and entered the kitchen, where her mother and Trunks were waiting. "Of course its okay for you to stay and eat with us, Goku. I'm sure that Mother cooked enough for us all."

"Unless Trunks is on a surprise diet, I don't think thats entirely accurate," Vejita disagreed, crossing his arms. "Besides, I'm sick of you, Kakkarott. Go get Godzilla on your own food supply."

"Kami, Vejita, why do you always have to--" Bulma exclaimed. Goku held up a hand to silence her.

"No, Bulma, he's right," he said good-naturedly. "I've probably been putting a pretty big addition onto your grocery bill lately. I should be getting home to Chichi and Gohan anyway."

"Believe me, Goku," Bulma said as he headed out the door. "Not even YOU could make my grocery bill any worse than it already is."




Some hours later, Bulma could be found up in she and Vejita's room, getting herself ready for the three hours of hard work ahead of her. She couldn't even get an entire Saturday off of work these days, with the stock market in the shape it was now. Trunks had decided to train with his father, so the exasperated girl could finally get a quiet moment to herself. Usually she had both Vejita, Trunks, and sometimes even her elderly mother breathing down her neck while she got ready for work.

"Thank you Kami," she whispered as she wiggled into her clothing.

She wore a black, knee-length skirt suit with matching stiletto shoes and the appropriate jewelry. She had decided to blow her hair out straight and leave it down for laziness' sake and apt for smoky eyes and softly-colored lips. Before she headed out to her office, she spritzed herself with a flowery perfume and gave herself the once-over in her mirror. She was having a good day, so it was likely that the newest intern--a wiry, plain-looking college student--would hit on her again, but she could handle it. She did it every day.

She had made it out of her room and almost all the way to the business offices across the building when Trunks came sprinting over to her, sweat soaking his entire body. Bulma jumped out of his way to avoid getting wet and wrinkled her nose at the messy state her son was in.

"Mommy!" Trunks wailed, trying to get a hold on one of her legs. "Daddy's bein' mean to me!"

Bulma was about to reply when Vejita stormed into the room, grabbed the back of his son's shirt, and delivered a swift smack across the child's face.

"Told ya!" Trunks shouted, struggling to get free. "I told ya!"

Bulma ran a frustrated hand through her hair and fought to maintain her composure. "What the hell is going on, Vejita?"

The angry Saiyan resisted Trunks' protests easily, the frown on his face deepening. "The little brat was messing with the controls on the gravity machine again! One of these days I'm going to let the damned thing crush him!"

"Again?!" Bulma demanded. "Dammit Trunks, you've got to stop DOING that!"

Vejita lifted the kid off of his feet and raised him up to eye level. "You hear that? I'm NOT being mean! If I had decided to be mean, then your ass would be smeared across the floor of the gravity room!"

Bulma watched them struggle their way out of the room and back towards the gravity room, where she was sure that they would be able to duke it out eventually. After a frustrated sigh and a glance at her watch (she was ten minutes late), she turned on her heel and hurried on her way, determined to get her work done quickly.




She came back home from work that night an exhausted woman. She carried her painful shoes in one hand and sucked on a cigarette with the other. She had tied up her hair into a tight chignon during the day and her expression was strained. Vejita, who had been watching TV, waiting for her to come home, swallowed his complaints and studied her, not bothering to hide his amusement.

"What happened to you?"

Bulma shook her head and put out her cigarette. "The usual. I just can't understand how Daddy could handle all of this shit on his own. Kami knows that I can't. I found out that I have to hire a few more people to file papers today. And guess who had to do all of the extra work?"

Vejita smirked and settled back into his seat on the couch, content that his 'mate' was alright. "Perhaps you should fire somebody. I'm willing to bet that that would make you feel better."

"Doubtful." Bulma gave him a disgusted look and threw her shoes at a wall. "Where's Trunks?"

"With your mother." Vejita scowled. At the incredulous look Bulma shot him, he held up his hands defensively. "Hey, you told me that if my 'anger' gets 'out of control', then I was to get myself out of any situation where I could become a 'potential danger' to the kid. So that's what I did. Hell, you have to do the same thing!"

"But not nearly as much as you have to," Bulma accused, collapsing into the seat beside him. After a long, deep sigh, she looked over at him with a solemn expression. "Tell me the truth, Vejita--do you still find me attractive?"

Vejita knew the answer to her question almost immediately, but he hesitated a moment before replying. He studied her youthful face, searching for a flaw. Her eyes were still the color of the ocean, her skin was as rosy as it had ever been, and her hair... He rolled his eyes, released it from its severe hairstyle, and shook his head. It was still long and straight, just like always. "Damn, woman, I wouldn't still be here if I didn't. You're only twenty-four, so don't be a fool. "

Bulma sighed again and turned so that her back was to him. Her shoulders moved up and down in an exaggerated motion, like she was breathing hard or something. "That's good..." she breathed quietly. Vejita thought for a moment that she was going to elaborate on her strange question, but instead she began digging through the pockets of her outfit. "Now where the hell did I put those cigarettes?"

The honest moment was broken, and surprisingly, Vejita found himself a bit angry at Bulma for it. He muttered curses under his breath and stood. "Woman, your fanatic smoking habit is enough to make me sick!" He reached over and swiped the cigarette from Bulma's hand. Ignoring her protests, he took her lighter and lit it for himself. "If there's anyone who needs these damned things around here, its me!"

"Bulma, dear, Trunks is asking for you," Mrs. Briefs called from the kitchen. "Why don't you and Vejita bring your conversation in here?"

"You know that we're not going to do that, Mom!" Bulma shouted back.

Mrs. Briefs appeared in the doorway. She was donned in a ridiculous pink apron and had a dishtowel slung over her shoulder, just like a true housewife. "Oh, surely you wouldn't derive an old, senile woman from her favorite thing!"

"Croquet?" Vejita suggested teasingly.

Bulma shot him a dirty look. "And what would your favorite thing be, Mother?"

Mrs. Briefs smiled. "Gossip, honey, fresh gossip! Bring it into the kitchen, and be quick about it!"

Suddenly, the sounds of Trunks crying could be heard. Both Bulma and Vejita winced simultaneously.

"Kami," Bulma muttered angrily. "Does that boy ever just SHUT UP?" Without waiting for an answer, she got up off the coach and stormed into the kitchen to tend to her child.

Vejita stayed behind for a minute, collecting his thoughts and half-heartedly finishing Bulma's cigarette. He watched Bulma disappear into the kitchen and listened to her scold Trunks profusely, accusing him of just about every misbehavior under the sun. The young boy did not stop crying, but instead began sobbing harder. He was reminded of his own childhood and scowled. Though he was no parental mastermind himself, even he could see that Bulma was handling the upbringing of their child incorrectly.

It wasn't like she knew any better, he reminded himself. She had never been in charge of another living, breathing thing in her entire life. She would adjust. But, thinking of all of the things that had happened to Bulma throughout her life, and all that she had overcome in the last couple years, Vejita could not bring himself to correct her. Instead, he got rid of the cigarette, brushed his negative thoughts aside, and followed Bulma into the kitchen, where dinner awaited.

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(A/N): I know that this first chapter was not much, but I felt that I had to set the scene a bit before I start in on all of the action. First off, I would like to address the complaints that a lot of people have had about the ending of 'Youth of the Nation', and also some of the wonderful compliments I received. As for the flames and complaints and such, perhaps I did rush it a bit, perhaps it was incorrect as far as the lawsuits went, but hey, nobody reads this fics for realism, do they? I mean, if you come to FanFiction.net, I assume that you are wanting to escape reality for a little while, so maybe you all shouldn't be so strict about whether something's exactly accurate or not. I certainly never claimed to be a governmental genuis! And as a matter of fact, when Bulma was arrested, she was 18 years old. I don't know if you all remember me mentioning that, and maybe I didn't, but she was a senior in high school, which made it very likely that she WAS 18. And to Lyn, the angry reviewer--if you hate me and my writing so much, why do you waste your 'precious' time? Jesus Christ, have you got any MORE complaints? I don't know what you consider a 'romantic encounter', but obviously our ideas of one differ. I'm definitely not a romantic, but I'm exactly cold-hearted either, despite what some people may think. If you have anything else to say, why don't you e-mail me personally and be strong about it? An unsigned review is hardly a nice way to relate such serious problems. And if you're reading this, then there really IS something seriously wrong with you, because if you didn't like 'Little Black Dress' OR 'Youth of the Nation', then why the hell do you think you're gonna like this one??! Okay, and now its time for me to thank all of the REST of you wonderful reviewers for your compliments. Especially Pathos and Stef-chan! You guys are soooooooooooo great! I couldn't keep going without the support of wonderful people like you. Second, I would like to say that no matter how much you guys beg, I will NOT rewrite the last chapter of 'Youth of the Nation', nor will I post an alternate ending. I personally do not want to waste the time on something that, in my mind, is already a done deal. So stop asking, puh-leeze! This all might sound mean, but I just had to get it off my chest. I've warned you once and I'll warn you again, Rhapsody's got quite a temper on her! ^_^;; So, if you find it appropriate, please be kind and leave a review for me! Ja ne!

Rhapsody~*

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