Author's Note: I have had the next few chapters of this story in the "Almost Finished" list for so long, I actually had forgotten that I started them. Plus, actually going to my computer for the purpose of updating has been number two on my "To Do" list for a week, but stuff kept coming up to take the number one slot. It's been a crazy week…stupid mice…
Anyway, a thousand thank you's to all of you who have taken the time to review. I thank you for your praise, your critiques, and, most of all, for understanding that as this is a work of fanfiction, there are going to be a few creative liberties taken. All who have made commentary on the plot have done so with an open mind, and I truly thank you for that.
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"Are you completely mad, woman?" Vegeta shouted at his wife, his anger at the situation more than evident.
But Bulma simply shrugged his aggression off. "Not yet," she calmly replied, "but if you keep putting up a fuss, I bet I could get there if I had to." Coyly, she winked at him as she added, "Good thing I know I don't have to."
The Saiyan snorted at his wife's response. It was one thing when she decided to yell and scream and threaten him to get her way. But he just could not tolerate her when she was cool, collected, and in control. It aggravated him to no end.
"You have tried this before," he angrily pointed out, "and as I recall, it did not turn out well."
"Your problem, not mine," Bulma simply said, picking up her purse and slinging it over her shoulder. "Besides, would you rather stay here with Bra or take Trunks to the dentist?"
Vegeta had to actually stop and think about that for a moment. While staying home with the two year old was more than he thought he could deal with again, he remembered what had happened the last time they had taken the boy in to get his teeth cleaned. Apparently, he did not do well when people tried to pry his mouth open and shove their fingers inside.
That poor hygienist never saw those teeth coming…
Meanwhile, Bulma had begun to tap her foot in impatience. "I'm waaaaaaiiiiiting," she sang, picking at her nails.
Vegeta turned his gaze toward the stairs that led to the bedrooms. "How long has the brat been out?" he asked.
"Twenty seven minutes," the heiress responded after a quick look at her watch. "And if you don't give me an answer in the next twenty seven seconds, I'm going to make you take Trunks to the dentist with Bra as I get a pedicure!"
While normally the prince would have scoffed at the very notion of being forced to do something like that, he didn't dare challenge her. She seemed to have that aura about her that she always had right before she managed to get him to do something he would never willingly agree to.
"If you don't have all ten fingers when you get back, I get to kill the boy," Vegeta grunted.
Bulma kissed him on the cheek. "Fair enough," she said, adjusting her purse. "We should only be gone for an hour or so, and if you're lucky, Bra will be asleep the whole time." She stopped for a moment, and gave her husband a downright wicked look. "Of course, if last time was any indication of your luck…"
"Just go," Vegeta groaned. He did not need her to remind him what had happened the last time he had been left alone with their young daughter. He grunted as his wife gave him one last kiss before leaving, and didn't bother to say goodbye. If she thought she was going to get more than a grunt from him at that moment, she had another thing coming.
Standing firmly in his spot, he waited until he was absolutely certain that his wife and his son were on the other side of the city before going up the stairs. The prince wound his way through the corridors until he came to his daughter's room. Slowly, without making a sound, he opened the door and slid in.
Just as he had suspected, Bra was wide awake and standing in her crib. It was obvious that she had been awaiting her father's arrival.
Vegeta walked up to the crib and looked down at his little girl. Trunks had been permanently freed of that contraption at a much younger age, but he had always been a peaceful sleeper. Once he was out, he didn't move a muscle. Bra, on the other hand, moved around in her sleep so much she might as well have been sparring. Because of that, and the fact that she woke up, crying, every time she had flopped out of her bed, she had been put back in the crib until another solution could be figured out.
"Your idiot mother has done it again," he bluntly told the child. "She has left a helpless child in the hands of someone who has, at no point in time, demonstrated any ability whatsoever to deal with said child." He leaned in close, touching his nose to hers. "Your mother really is an idiot."
Bra giggled and clapped her hands together twice before reaching up for her daddy's cheeks. "Up! Up!" she cried, smiling at her father.
But Vegeta removed her hands from his face and took a large step back from her crib. "No," he stated, crossing his arms.
Bra's eyes grew wide. Her vocabulary wasn't enormous, but she had mastered that word a long time ago. "No?" she asked.
"No," her father repeated, not flinching from his spot.
"No?" she asked again, tears brimming in her eyes.
But Vegeta could not be swayed by those tears. He knew them too well. "No," he firmly said again. The Saiyan smirked down at his daughter, and refused to move a muscle.
Bra knew that look. It meant that she wasn't going to win with tears. Changing tactics, the barely two year old princess sat down and pouted. "No," she stated, just as her father had. Just for good measure, she crossed her arms the exact same way that he had his crossed.
Vegeta's smirk only got bigger. "We had a deal, Bra," he said. "When it is only you and me, there is one rule."
The toddler looked up for only a second before falling right back in to her pout. She was not going to lose this battle. Oh, no. Not this time!
"What was the rule, Bra?" the prince demanded.
Again, the young princess refused to budge.
Her father also refused to give in to this battle of wills. "Tell me the one rule and I will free you from your prison."
Blue eyes lit up, and the sulk was instantly forgotten. Bra scrambled to her feet and clawed at the bars, trying to gain balance on her surface of blankets and pillows. As soon as she found her balance, she looked eagerly up at her father. She held up her index finger to her lips, and quietly went, "Shh!"
The prince smirked down at his daughter and did the exact same motion. "Shh," he went, approaching the crib again. "That's right, princess. You stay nice and quiet, and I let you be free. Understood?"
With an energy unparalleled in the world, the toddler nodded to her father. And true to the agreement, she didn't utter a sound as she reached up once more, seeking her freedom from her cage.
Vegeta, true to his word, reached in and picked up the little girl. "Remember the deal," he restated. "You stay quiet, and I let you stay free. However, if you scream, you cry, you beg, you plead, you whine, you shout, you shriek, you holler, or you do anything else that causes noise to come out of you, and I am putting you right back in this pen. Do you understand?"
Bra just smiled at her father, and made a motion with her chubby little fingers that looked like she was zipping up her mouth.
"Good girl," the prince said, settling the girl on his hip. He looked down at the toddler in his arms. "To the living room?" he asked.
The little princess thought for a moment, then shook her head.
"The playroom, perhaps?" he asked, smiling at her as he reopened her door.
Again, the tiny toddler thought for a moment before shaking her head.
Vegeta smirked down at his daughter. "Then there's only one place you want to be. To the kitchen!"
Bra's eyes lit up, and she lightly clapped her hands together once. She beamed up at her prince before snuggling affectionately against his chest. Bra remembered how this game worked. She could go to and room she wanted, as long as she kept quiet. She had learned very quickly on the last attempt that even laughing got her dumped back in her barred prison.
The pureblooded Saiyan carried his daughter down the stairs, through the house, and to the kitchen. Normally he would have insisted that a child, especially his child, walk under their own power. However, he was even hungrier than she was, and he was not about to have to pace himself to a two year old.
Besides, even though he would never admit it, he loved the way his daughter held on to him whenever he carried her.
As soon as their destination was reached, he dropped his daughter off on the kitchen table. He knew that Bulma would have a fit if she found out that he had just let her sit on the table and hadn't bothered with the highchair, but in his opinion, the child had been restrained long enough. Besides, neither he nor Bra would ever tell the woman, and he really didn't feel like forcing the kid into the thing anyway.
Vegeta pulled out a box of cereal from the cabinet, a tub of yogurt out of the refrigerator, and a bunch of grapes from the fruit bowl. In an extremely orderly fashion, he lined all three of them in front of the little girl. "Pick the two you want," he stated.
Bra looked quizzically up at her father and gave him a look that clearly showed that she wasn't sure what he was talking about.
The prince sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He really wished that she could understand everything he said. "Two," he repeated, holding up a matching number of fingers. "You get two."
That she understood. The little girl pulled herself closer to the three food items, not bothering to get to her feet. She picked each one up, poked around at them for a while, and carefully smelled them. After a couple of minutes, she pulled the cereal and the grapes toward herself and pushed the yogurt away. Gently, she rapped her hand against the table to let her father know that her choice had been made.
After father and daughter had their snack, the little girl hopped into her father's lap. Situating herself snuggly against his body, she wrapped one arm around his neck and pointed down the hallway with the other. Just as quietly, Vegeta complied. He followed the silent directions to the playroom, where the little girl hopped out of his arms just long enough to grab a teddy bear and a stuffed lion, and quickly hopped right back up.
Once again, Bra began to point her father down the hallways of the mansion. There were a few moments where her expression became a scowl, and Vegeta knew that it meant she had gone the wrong way. But his little princess never once made a noise about it. She just stuck out her lower lip and redirected them, trying again.
At long last, the two arrived at her chosen destination.
The Gravity Room.
Vegeta raised an eyebrow at his second born child. "Are you sure you want to be here?" he asked the girl in his arms.
Stubbornly, she nodded, pointing aggressively toward the thick door. She adamantly indicated that it was, most definitely, where she wanted the two of them to be.
The prince was not entirely sure he understood why they were there. True, it was where he wanted to be, but why on earth would she want to be there? As far as he knew, his princess had never set foot in the room before.
But a deal was a deal, so father and daughter went it. Bra immediately hopped out of her father's arms. She grabbed her two stuffed animals and faced them toward each other, standing them on their hind legs. She began to make the two of them move against each other. When she looked up at her father, and saw nothing but confusion on his face, she stuck out her lower lip. Very clearly, she pointed one hand to her father and the other toward the teddy bear. Then, after a second, she pointed one finger at herself and the other at the stuffed lion. She picked her animals up again and had them move toward each other again.
Realization suddenly dawned on Vegeta's features. "You want to train with me?"
Excitedly, Bra dropped her toys and jumped up and down, clapping her hands together. She knew her daddy could figure it out!
Vegeta couldn't help but smile at his little princess. He had given her the opportunity to do anything she wanted, and she wanted to train with him. Pride filled his chest as he nodded at his daughter.
For almost half an hour, Vegeta and Bra went over what truly were the most basic aspects of training. No energy beams were thrown, no gravity was engaged, no katas were performed…there hadn't even been a punch thrown. But given the time they had, and the age of the student, they two did make a fair amount of progress.
Mid lesson, Vegeta's head snapped to the side. "You mother is almost home," he stated, heading for the door. Bulma had said very clearly that he was not to take the toddler into that room, and Vegeta was not about to let her find out that he had broken what few rules had been put in place.
Instinctively, Bra knew what they had to do. She raced to her animals, grabbed them tightly to her chest, and jumped up into her father's arms. Vegeta got them both out of the room swiftly and locked it up tight. Using his impressive speed, he got the two of them up to her room and placed her back in her crib. Very quickly, Bra lay herself against her pillow and let her father drape one of her blankets over her small body. She snuggled against her animals and smiled up at her father.
As Vegeta turned to leave the room, Bra called out, "Daddy!"
The prince whipped around and looked at the little girl in the crib. She smiled brightly at him. Since she was back in the crib, she knew she could make noise again. And there was something that she had been waiting all day to say.
"I love you, Daddy."
Vegeta returned to her crib and smiled down at the little girl. Gently, he ran his finger down her cheek. "Thank you, princess," he softly answered. "Now close your eyes and wait for your mother."
Giggling, Bra burrowed under her blankets and snuggled into her pillow. This was her favorite part of their game.
Giving his daughter one last glance, Vegeta swiftly left the room. Sensing that his wife and son were pulling the car into the garage, he wasted no time getting to the living room. Quickly, he turned on the television and put his feet up as he found the news. He only had a few seconds to spare before the door came slamming open.
"…embarrassed in my life!" Bulma was shouting.
"Oh, so not true!" Trunks yelled back. "Krillen told me that you flashed Master Roshi once, and that had to be more embarrassing than this!"
Mother and son came stomping into the room, shouting at the top of their lungs of the incident at the dentist.
"This is the last straw, Trunks!" Bulma screamed. "You're grounded for two weeks!" When Trunks only snorted, the mother took it further. "That's right, boy, two weeks of no TV, no computer, no video games, and no Goten!"
"WHAT?" Trunks hollered back. "You can't do that!"
Bulma whipped around and glared at her son. "I can and I will! I am your mother, Trunks! I brought you into this world, and I can take you back out of it!"
"NO YOU CAN'T!" the twelve year old shouted back before making a break for his room.
Bulma huffed as she heard her son's bedroom door slam shut. She was clearly agitated, if not pushed to the absolute limits of her sanity by whatever had happened while the boy was getting his teeth cleaned.
It was an opportunity that Vegeta just couldn't pass up.
"So," he casually said, putting his hands behind his head, "how did it go?"
The heiress whipped around, glaring at her husband. "How did it go?" she whispered in the brief calm before the storm. "HOW DID IT GO?!? I'll tell you how it went! First of all, we were fifteen minutes late because your son decided to try to break out of the car and escape on the way there. I ended up swerving and getting into a fender bender when he used his damn Saiyan strength to try to shove the door off! Then, when we got there, he started ranting and raving about how the dentist was really there to torture children, which got every kid in the room to start screaming! And as if that wasn't enough, that brat of yours ripped the dental chair out of the floor and tried using it as a weapon against the dentist!" Angrily, she flopped down on the couch. "I swear, I am going to kill that boy!"
Vegeta quietly kept his observation of their role reversal to himself. He liked to provoke her, but pointing out that she had become him was just suicide. Quietly, he gave her a few minutes to cool off.
Soon enough, Bulma gave a long sigh. When it dawned on her that there were no signs of a two year old around, she got to her feet and prepared to check on her daughter. She turned back for a moment, and asked her husband, "So how was your afternoon with Bra?"
The prince just turned to his wife and smirked. "She didn't make a sound."
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Author's Notes: Again, many thanks to all of you who are being so supportive of this story!