Undisclosed Desires by IAmParadoxia

/ICANHASMOARREVIEWSPLZ/ICannotBeArsedBETAReading/

I had an easy time recovering from the birth, as my mother took up the mantle of Grand motherhood with zeal; she had her circle of friends over, and little Trunks was always the centre of attention, especially dressed in adorable as well as fashionable baby wear. I, on the other hand, dove back into work whilst juggling Trunks around between myself, my mother and the nursemaid; I breast feed and sometimes bottle feed Trunks, so it was necessary for me to take a few breaks during my work day to feed him. I had quit my smoking habit and drinking ever since I found out of the pregnancy, so the stress can sometimes be overwhelming, but focusing on nursing this little thing that I helped create somehow soothes some of the pain.

Every time I feed him, I feel my heart warm up and soften up to him, and I struggle with feeling both dread and excitement at the prospect of introducing him to his father. I try not to imagine what it would be like. I played many different scenarios in my head, ranging from the most likely to the least plausible, wondering what exactly the future holds when Vegeta decides to come back to us; when he comes home to me.

I needn't wonder any longer, for he returned a day short of the date on which he had left. I remember how it all happened; Trunks was being fussy after dinner, and I was in desperate need for a walk. I held him close to me as he pointed at the stars, the vast emptiness of the backyard allowing for a clear sky free from city lights... my baby has no idea that half of his heritage belonged up there, to a place that no longer exists, a society which I imagined to be advanced, cultured, intelligent, if the royal heir is any example. I wish I could see it; I wish Trunks could see it. Oh how I wish...

I was deep in thought when Trunks started squirming and whining; it couldn't possibly be that he's hungry again, could it? He just had his eighth feeding in the past few hours only a while ago, but I assumed that because of his unique hybrid physiology, he was in need of more food. I had a bottle with me, and I tried to feed it to him, but he wasn't interested. I was exasperated, about to give up and come back in from the balcony when I heard a baritone voice from behind, calling my name.

My skin prickled, and I felt like my bones had just rattled; I turned around to see whether if I had imagined it, what with my pining for him like a lovesick puppy, longing after someone whom I know is twisted, broken and feral on the inside. But there he was, standing behind me, by the doors of the open lounge, wearing slacks and a shirt, his hair gold and his green eyes staring at Trunks and I with disbelief or shock; I can't really tell.

He's come back, and he's made it; he's ascended into a legend, and he's back. I feel hesitant about rejoicing after the fact for fear that he might disown Trunks and never come back again, so I kept quiet, unsure of what I should say. Trunks started feeling uneasy and started to struggle in my arms; for a year and a half old toddler, he had a lot of strength, and after a while, I couldn't hold him up much longer. I set him down on the floor and watched as he moved his chubby legs, crawling towards his father.

Before Trunks got close, Vegeta took a step back as though faced with a worthy foe, leaving a very unhappy toddler, who chose to bawl his eyes out right there and then; the sound was deafening, and my breasts tingled, the baby's cry triggering involuntary lactation. I was only dressed wearing jeans and a shirt, and the milk stained my shirt; I hugged my chest and walked towards Trunks, picking him up.

It's obvious that Vegeta isn't ready to meet with Trunks; wordlessly, I walk past him and headed towards the nursery, ready to put him into his cot after I feed him again. I felt both thrilled and anxious to see Vegeta after two years; I pined for him, longed for him, hated him, and was going absolutely insane thinking about him whenever I had a moment to myself. And now, he's come back. I dropped Trunks off with the nanny, my mood suddenly unable to deal with anyone; I locked myself in my room and lay in bed all night, trying desperately to fall asleep.

All that surrounded me was a vast darkness that was dead silent; I can hear the sounds in my head, memories of when he was mine for a few fleeting moments, before his pride called him to his duties. About how potent a kiss from his delectable lips felt, and how my world dissolved away into bliss when we touched... and after all this time has passed, after all the tortured nights and days where I lost sleep, work and sanity thinking about him, there he is. He's back in my home; so close, yet so far away. After a few hours of absolute waking torture, I decided that I'd rather pop a sleeping pill. The voices in my head that once sounded like my voice crying out in pleasure is starting to sound like the scream I heard myself screaming that night in the maze. Sandman, please take me away.

(Vegeta's POV)

Days, weeks and months blurred away as I pushed myself to endure my training at 400 times gravity; I achieved ascension after what felt like an eternity stuck in vast empty space with nothing but my demons to keep me company. The need to achieve my goal became my one obsession; I felt consumed, focusing on nothing more but how far I am able to push my limits.

I remember that night vividly; most of my body now covered in bruises, some old, some new, my now pale skin from lack of sunlight making the rainbow of bruises appear startlingly obvious. That olive green, sickly yellow, dark blue and smarting red that blends into a deep purple, smattering all over me, proof of my exertion, my dedication, my obsession; every bit of my muscles ached painfully, every blow feeling even worse than the last.

For a moment, my mind wandered in search for reasons why I should push myself quite literally to death; pride seemed like an obvious answer, and I feared to scratch deeper into the matter; at the moment, however, I was beyond caring. I searched deep within myself and dared to look inside the vast screaming darkness of my heart; the only light I see is when she smiles at me. When she looks at me in a way that's all trusting, open, unconditional... my heart skips a beat, and I feel a surge of emotions; my throat closes, and I panic. In that moment, I held onto the thought of the only woman kind enough to allow me to be close, and before I knew it, I felt it.

My energy level surged, and I felt its electricity crackle in my veins. I made it, Bulma.

After a while mastering the nuances of it all, I decided that I couldn't stand the isolation anymore; not that I'd ever admit to it. I plotted the course home and hoped to the Gods that she'd still want to see me; I even stayed in that form because I was too proud not to be, now that I was able to.

The journey home seemed to last forever, and I felt a nervousness about me; I could barely sit still, so I ended up executing a few katas, bench pressing a few thousand times, clearing out the last of the food left in the pantry and spending hours in the bath tub, soaking the pain away. The smell of steam and blood permeated the air, and I lay there, holding my breath for as long as I can.

I don't know how much time passed, but it was long enough that the water in the tub had cooled down, and the monitor on the control panel was flashing. According to the screen, I'll be back at the Brief's hangar in 30 minutes; time to get up and get dressed.

{moments later...}

I could feel my heart beat in my mouth; despite the nervous wreck that I felt being, years of life under Freiza's servitude has taught me well the art of keeping what the earthlings would call a 'poker face.' The hatch started to hiss and clink, the locks winding back, the hydraulics preparing to let the door down... I was greeted by a very sombre looking Professor Briefs and a very enthusiastic looking Bunny; they seem pleased at my return, and Bunny even had a big plate of spaghetti in her hands.

I can only assume that the woman did not badmouth me after I had left; I feel somewhat thankful and secretly ashamed at my behaviour. I'll never admit it, but I am glad that I still have somewhere to go.

The first thing that came out of my mouth was "Where's Bulma?" It was as though I said it before even thinking about saying it.

Bunny smiled and gushed and said that she had a surprise for me, and that she was on the open air living room deck. Ignoring the smell of the delicious spaghetti bolognaise that the head chef prepares especially well, I hopped off the capsule and went off in search for the woman I've tried so hard not to think about. I sensed her chi, and that of another person; I couldn't place my fingers on who it could have been, wondering if perhaps Kakarot's brat is paying her a visit.

I wasn't prepared for what I saw when I turned the corner; there she was, dressed casually, and on her hip, a child with lavender hair. I stared for a while before stepping closer; it took a few more moments before I dared to call her name.

"Bulma." She shivers like leaves in the wind before squaring her shoulder to turn to face me. I looked at her, at the child, questions dancing in my mind, never reaching my tongue. The look in her eyes says it all; it's yours, she seemed to say. Those beautiful blue eyes... this time, I return to two pairs staring at me. She set the child down, and he began to crawl at me.

I notice all too soon that the child is missing its tail; I deduced that she had it removed, just as Kakarot and his brat had with theirs. Another blow to my already shattered pride; I know that it's for all our safety, to avoid the lunar transformation, but I can't help but feel sorrow; disgusted with myself, my weakness, I took a step back, and suddenly, the child wails, almost shattering my ear drums.

The woman hugs her chest as she moves to pick the child up; I can smell milk in the warm spring air, the smell of her perfume as she walks past me, carrying the child back in, presumably to put it down to sleep. I have a million things on my mind wishing to be heard, but for some reason, I can't bring myself to ask them.

I retired the night back into my old quarters, which remained well maintained, I might add; I felt a self loathing creeping over. It was as though I needed to see her, to touch her to soothe this unsated hunger I feel brewing inside me; the longer I wait being this close to her, but not be with her, the more agitated I felt. I tried ignoring it, spending the night in my warm bed, staring at the high ceiling of the hangar that housed my living space. I needed to see the sky; I needed to see her eyes as I touch her.

After many hours of frustration, I gave into temptation and headed to her bedroom, only to find that she just about to fall asleep; there was a bottle of sleeping pills on the side table, along with her mug of tisane. I crept through the open balcony doors like the thief that I am, into her bed. Snaking my arms around her, I pressed my face into her hair, breathing in all of her. She stirs, awake but extremely drowsy from the medication.

She turned her head, and with barely open eyes, looked at me and said "I missed you, baby." She snuggled close and curled into me, like a cat; I then felt tear drops on my chest, and I can feel her sorrow and joy at my return. I could only murmur apologies and kisses as I hold her close, wishing to Gods that it didn't have to be this way, and that I am here now, rest assured. She calmed a little, and slowly drifted off into a peaceful sleep; suddenly aware of my own fatigue, I joined her in slumber, my arm around her as though she were my hard earned prize.

END CHAPTER 9

I had stir fried bean vermicelli noodles whilse typing this shit up at 2.50am. For my troubles, I demand reviews. Or else Canada will STRIKE!