OH MY GOODNESS! This is... I don't even know. I should be sleeping. Or working on stuff for my online class. But instead this. No characters belong to me. Epic time skip away!

If nothing else… I'm an expert procrastinator.

It had been about year since Bulma passed on. He hadn't been able to feel anything besides oppressive gloom since then. He didn't truly desire to train in the GR, but long years of habit made it something he did without thinking. He didn't want breakfast, so he bypassed the kitchen and headed for his Gravity Room. The one she'd worked so hard to maintain for him. It was still hard to imagine that she'd never fix a broken bot for him again, never install another update to the system. She'd never scream at him over the intercom, telling him he'd been training "quite long enough" and that it was time for dinner. His scowl deepened as he walked across the frost-covered grass, recollections of her dancing through his mind.

Part of him was ashamed at his emotional reaction to the death of his mate. Vegeta, Prince of All Saiyans, the strongest race of warriors in the galaxy, should not still be mourning over the loss of his woman. But that was the problem, she had been all his. And his possessive nature made it difficult to accept that even death could take her away from him. If only her death hadn't been natural, he could go search for the Dragon Balls and wish her back to life. As it was, she was gone from the world of the living forever and the next time Vegeta would see her was when he crossed into the next world, as well. He'd died before, of course. It wasn't something he feared. But he knew, knew without a shadow of a doubt, that he wasn't ready to die and that if he did, his children would be heartbroken. Probably more so than he was now. And he couldn't do that to them. Not to Trunks, his pride. Not to Bra, his little princess.

His princess stood waiting for him. She yawned before giving her father a small smile. He nodded in acknowledgement, and the two headed in. He was glad for her company. Even though her appearance, which so resembled her mother's, served as a reminder for his grief and her skills weren't sufficient to really push him, he was happy to have her there to occupy his mind. He could critique her form, give her pointers, and think about something else other than his wife being gone and how that had left him heartbroken.

She stretched her muscles quickly as Vegeta headed for the control panel. His fingers danced across the screen, quickly setting the room to 80 times Earth's normal gravity. Sure, it was child's play for him, but his daughter hadn't been training all that long, and she was still gaining strength. He, personally, would not have minded if she decided that 80 times was sufficient, but she seemed determined to prove that she could handle just as much as her brother. Which meant she had a long way to go.

She seemed less fazed by the increased gravity. "Do you want to increase the amount?" Vegeta asked her. She shook her head.

"Later. I want to try my luck against you while not feeling like I'm really straining to stand up."

Her face was determined.

"I'll beat you soundly, child," he told her.

"I know. But I want to check my progress." He nodded his acceptance of her challenge. It was a reasonably good idea. And even if he didn't think it was, there would be no way to talk her out of it. She was just as stubborn as he was. Perhaps more so, as she also had her mother's stubbornness thrown into the equation.

She took a loose, ready stance. He didn't need to. She wouldn't be able to move fast enough to pose a problem for him. When Vegeta didn't move to attack first, she sprang into action. He didn't have to focus hard to read her movements. She was going for his back, hoping for an opening. He'd humor her a little. As he felt her ki move closer to him, he sidestepped the blast. He was only slightly surprised when she was beside him, ready to send a kick his way. He turned, easily catching her foot, and gave it a twist, sending her spinning away from him. He watched her land on her feet and glare at him. Vegeta recognized the look. It was the look of a warrior who didn't want to be bested at anything. He felt his chest expand with pride.

She really wasn't a challenge for him, and her movements seemed incredibly slow. He blocked her kicks and punches, dodging attacks with the ease that came with experience. She was panting. She was also getting angry. "Stop holding back," she shouted at him angrily. He gave her a hard look. She was serious. He didn't want to hurt her, but he guessed the best way to truly prove to her that the gap between them was still astronomical was to give her an attack at full power. Besides. If he did hurt her, she'd only get stronger when she healed. He moved to her, faster than she could see if he judged by the searching look on her face, and aimed a kick at her gut. She managed to sidestep to avoid the brunt of his assault, but he still managed to swipe her. She grimaced.

He saw the look on her face and felt slightly guilty. But if she was determined, and judging by the fighting spirit in her eyes, she was, he would continue his onslaught. He formed a fist, aimed at her face. He was caught slightly off guard when she caught it and attempted to counter. Instinct took over then, and he tripped her, planting his knee firmly into her stomach and knocking her to the floor. She hit the ground with a thud. He stood over her, pointing a building ki blast at her prone form.

"You need to increase your speed," he told her and let the ki dissipate before relaxing his stance and offering her his hand.

She hmphed at him and pushed his hand away as she stood up without his help and then walked past him to the control panel of the GR and bumped it up a few notches. He felt the strain of 100 times Earth's normal gravity. She really was just like her mother. Just like him, too. She wouldn't be outdone by any body. Not even her father. Sometimes he wished that Trunks would have as much stubbornness and desire to beat him as she did. She didn't say anything as she began doing pushups, wearing a look of determination on her face.

He had worked up a sweat. After giving Bra some constructive criticism on how to improve her ki blasts, she'd left. She never trained as long as he did, which suited him fine. After she left, he always increased the gravity level significantly. He sort of suspected that she left for his sake, so he could train under levels that pushed him, but he wasn't going to broach the subject with her.

He knew that dinnertime was nearing. Mrs. Brief's, who had unfortunately outlived her daughter, always made him dinner. He wasn't especially glad for it as he had never learned to like the dim-witted woman's presence, but he did appreciate the meals. Bra would be there. She was always there anymore. After she'd graduated from school and moved back home because of Bulma's death, she barely left the house. Vegeta knew that she had been a partier. When she came home to visit, she always smelled faintly of strange males, cigarettes, and alcohol. It had never pleased Vegeta, but he accepted that she was her mother's daughter. He was silently grateful that she had seemed to stop playing around with boys ever since moving back home.

He showered and dressed before heading down to the dining area. He sensed his son before he saw him and was pleased He could rub Bra's progress in Trunks' face.

"Dad!" Trunks called enthusiastically.

"Son," Vegeta acknowledged gruffly.

Bra walked in the room. "Hey Trunks. How's everything at the company?"

He shrugged. "Same old, same old, I guess."

"Why don't you come visit more often?" Mrs. Briefs asked.

"Sorry, Grandma," he said. "Things are kind of hectic. I don't really have time."

Vegeta sensed a lie but didn't say anything. The boy had his reasons. No reason to push him too much. Vegeta was quite certain it had to do with Bulma's death, and that was a subject he wasn't bringing up before dinner. Or ever if he really had a choice.

"So I've been training a lot with Dad," Bra announced to her brother.

"Oh. You're still training with him? That's surprising."

"Did you think I was going to give up?"

"Well considering your track record as the 'whiner who always quit', yes, I did."

She frowned at him. "I'm getting better. Tell him, Daddy. I almost managed to land a blow on him today."

Vegeta simply nodded, not willing to tell the whole family how proud he was of her improvement. "She's improved, certainly."

But Bra saw through his gruff tone and noncommittal attitude. "See. Daddy even says I'm getting better," she said, smiling brightly.

"Well, yeah," Trunks said, eyeing the food that his grandmother was setting on the table. "But I actually did hit him while training. When I was five. And how old are you?"

"Can it," she said, snarling. "I didn't start as early as you did."

Vegeta smirked at their bickering. The fight in a Saiyan always had to come out. Even if the sparring was only through words.

"Let's eat, children," he announced, breaking up the spat before it turned into something that had to be settled outside. He wouldn't have minded seeing it, but he preferred to eat first.

They all sat down and ate, talking about current happenings in their lives and painfully avoiding talk of Bulma. "I bet I could take you down in a spar, big brother dearest," Bra said between bites.

"Until you can turn into a Super Saiyan, you don't have a chance," he responded.

"Oh, I don't need to be a Super Saiyan to beat you. You're so far out of practice, you'd probably end up Super Lay'in and sleeping on the floor while I pummeled your sorry ass."

Her tenacity amused Vegeta. Trunks was going to have to beat her if he ever wanted her to shut up. And he'd never hear the end of it if he went easy on her and lost.

"I think you should wait, Bra," Vegeta added meaningfully. "Wait a few more months, and you'll be able to beat him to a pulp without difficulty."

Trunks gaped at his father, and Bra's face lit up in happiness. "Do you really think so, Daddy?" He nodded. "Am I going to be a Super Saiyan too? I've always wanted blond hair."

"Bra, you probably can't change because you're a girl," Trunks said. "There's never been a female Super Saiyan in all of history. Right, Dad?"

Vegeta shrugged, unwilling to give a definite answer. "As far as anyone knows. It was just a legend. As far as I knew, I was the only person who should have been able to ascend, but that wasn't the truth. So who really knows who exactly can ascend. I wouldn't rule out the possibility either way."

It wasn't what either of them wanted to hear. Vegeta could read their disappointment. But he did hope she'd transform. The only female Super Saiyan in all of known history would be his daughter, the Saiyan Princess.

"Well," Trunks said, "even if you do become the first female to transform, I'd still be able to beat you. You're just a whiny little brat."Bra, who had finished her meal, stood up and glared down at her brother.

"You think so? Well, just watch me." She stormed out of the kitchen, leaving a stunned Trunks in her wake. Vegeta knew that the attitudes his son held toward her would lead to his eventual defeat, but Vegeta imagined that getting beat by his sister would encourage him to return to training again, so he held his tongue.

"Well… must be her time of the month," Trunks said to no one in particular. Vegeta knew that to be a load of garbage. He had picked up the scent of menstruation from her about two weeks ago. His heightened senses were sometimes a bit of a pain when it came to this, but at least he knew without a shadow of a doubt that she was not pregnant. Vegeta let the comment slide though. "I'll be headed home then," Trunks continued.

Vegeta nodded. The dense woman wished her grandson farewell, and he made his way home. Vegeta wasn't particularly tired, but since the only option other than heading to bed was staying and hanging out with his mother-in-law, he got up and walked to his room. He flipped on the TV, deciding on a technical show that Bulma had watched religiously. It was soothing and nostalgic. He wished once more that her death hadn't been natural. He could go and get the Dragon Balls and wish her back to life. She could be lying here beside him this instant, criticizing the "shoddy scientists" on the TV who were only making "cheap imitations" of something she could do "totally better." He smiled at her memory. He couldn't wish her back, but he knew she was saving a spot for him in heaven. She was ready for whenever he got there. No matter how long it took.

Maybe I should explain this a bit more in depth than just my silly opening there… This is a ridiculous GotenXBra fanfic. It'll get there eventually, I promise.

Vegeta is like 75 in this. He's still outwardly quite tough, but on the inside, I feel that he should be a little less callous now.

I am working on more chapters of this as we speak. And I'm a review whore. So you leave me nice reviews, I'll post more chapters. That's how it's going to work.