The blaring on the ship finally ceased as all the fires were extinguished and the electrical grid maintained for the time being. The real work would be repairing all the damage done by the volatile hybrid which would probably take several weeks if not months depending on severity. Groaning in vexation, Ascion leaned her balled hand into her cheek as she sat at her desk contemplating the events that had transpired several hours before.

The look her comrades gave her, in the end, filled her with pride in knowing she had done her best and was rewarded with them seeing that as well. The disappointment of her once idolized Prince forced her to rethink her position and priorities. No longer did she feel the necessity of allowing a foreign personage to take leadership no matter how revered he was. She had proved her worth to her clansmen and herself. She had shown them that she could be their protector, their loyal leader. There was an amass of outspoken cries in support of which she'd never had before. She was assured they still needed her leadership. Pulling her hand away and glancing up at the Crest of House Vegeta still plastered above her head, she came to a resounding conclusion. The status of Commander wasn't good enough. If they needed a monarch to forge unity within their growing society, she would take up the responsibility in place of her former prince.


At the threshold to the clamorous arena, Ascion breathed out a confident sigh through her nose. She had taken some time to herself to reevaluate her decisions, headed to the medical wing to heal her injuries, made necessary inquisitions that everyone had been accounted for in the commotion, took a long shower to be alone in her thoughts and dressed in new armor. She waited for some of the raucous noise behind the double doors to subside moderately before proceeding through.

She stood with her head held high in the balcony overlooking her clan. Hundreds of eyes peered up, waiting, sensing a change in the air after the altering events. Clearing her throat, their Commander began.

"Comrades, today, proud soldiers laid down their lives to stop our once venerated prince and his hybrid progeny. It is painfully apparent they reject their ties to the Saiyan Empire.

We have already suffered at the hand of a tyrant, lost our freedom, our dignity, and our home. We lost millions for a cause that was not our own. Despite our hardships, we have adapted and persevered when our race was on the brink of disappearing from existence. No longer are we hiding, running, fighting for individual survival. We are a collective fortified by pain and loss and an iron will to carry on. We shall do so on our own terms, without the assistance of Prince Vegeta.

I understand the path will be difficult, however, with your loyalty and trust, I will bring about an even greater unity and a resurgence of the Saiyan race!

In the past, we choose Kings to rule over us, and the potential to have the last of their line be one of ours had its appeal. Yet, they choose to abdicate their responsibility, so now, with no other recourse, I will take up their mantle, as your dutiful and loyal Queen.

Our role in the universe is greatness. It is time to take back our place with our name and identity. The blood of our warrior ancestors runs through our veins. We are Saiyans, pure and true! And a new age begins today!"

She eyed the rows of familiar faces with vehement determination. A stillness in silent reflection followed making her falter only for a moment, when a lone arm shot up in the crowd. A soldier with a furiously blazing gaze held his hand aloft, created a small white ki ball which flickered and pulsed with intensity hovering at his palm. He nodded sharply in her direction. A second arm shot up across the other end of the arena and mimicked the first Saiyan, controlled ki brought forth. It took two more lone supporters to cause a rousing clamor and lifting of hands, glittering light across the arena with shared approval amongst her clansmen in a singularly powerful act.


The coronation went swiftly as the lack of proper royal etiquette had been lost over time. The unceremonious display was not a concern of Ascion. Becoming a monarch had never been given a passing thought until recently. The Saiyans would have to adjust with the change in some past traditions. Current practices to ensure their survival would continue and having a woman King was another they would have to learn to live with.

A First Officer carrying lengthy reports for review and a small parcel under her arm knocked on the large grey doors and was permitted entry after a moment. The soldier laid the paperwork gently on the desk and handed over the parcel last.

"This was found in the arena." She informed, placing the soft bundle on the wood.

Ascion pinched at it quizzically, watched the bundle unravel and pool onto the floor. She rubbed her thumbs gently over the scarlet fabric. The awkward fashion by which Ascion stared intently at the red cloth caused the officer to shift on her feet tensely, cleared her throat and addressed the newest monarch.

"Commander-" She paused and amended herself as Ascion groaned loudly in annoyance, "My Queen, there are 11 dead in total. Two of them were officers, all were killed by the hybrid." The First Officer said gravelly.

Draping the red cloth on her desk with care, Ascion took the reports and rifled through them briefly. "You forgot the one by Vegeta." She said bitterly, spreading the paperwork out in an organized line.

"He is alive, your Highness." She corrected, a small smile on her lips.

The Queen glanced up, furrowing her brows. "I saw the Elite die at his hand."

The First Officer shook her head. "He was rendered unconscious. He is in the medical wing now."

Scrutinizing the officer's face, Ascion recalled the finishing blow. She was certain of his demise. His death was what caused her to attack Vegeta in the first place. He was dead. I was sure. Why? Why would Vegeta not kill him? A sudden realization made her pause at the sheer audacity of it. Yet, it was the only explanation. He was clearly capable of destroying all of them with the immense power he possessed. He held back at that moment. She sneered at the reason.

Returning her features to controlled neutrality, she cleared her throat and addressed the officer. "You are forgetting one more. The brood female, Riane. The hybrid killed her in his rage." She said with an unfeeling expression.

"You are certain?" She questioned skeptically.

"Yes, I witnessed it. She was already wounded. He was uncontrollable." The officer's face darkened. Ascion found it easy to put blame on the hybrid. Better than admitting she allowed one of their own to escape without completed retribution.

"Shall we retaliate?" She asked in earnest.

"No."

She glanced at the Queen, waiting for additional clarification.

"Are you questioning my decision?" She said with a challenging glare.

"No, M'lady." She shook her head frantically.

"Good. Inform our pilots I want us out of this orbit immediately. I never want to see this planet again." She watched her officer turn on her heel and exit with a curt bow. Groaning, Ascion pursed her lips and picked the scarlet parcel up off her desk. She fluffed it out, watching it billow, remembering it on his shoulders with slight fondness. She folded it delicately, smirked to herself and brought out something to write on.


The air in the medical wing stank of sweat, blood and disinfectant spray. A pile of soiled clothing and spandex from both Vegeta and Trunks lay in a far corner radiating a strong masculine odor, evidence of their recent fight. Bluma seriously considered just incinerating the items rather than wash them. Both men had returned bloodied and bruised, with a bewildered and concerned Goku in tow, carrying the unconscious woman who needed immediate medical attention in her grave condition. After paying their family doctor twice what they normally paid, even with a contracted non-disclosure agreement when it came to the 'unusual humans' in their home, Riane was stabilized, bandaged and resting under heavy sedation.

"I'm fine, woman." Vegeta winced with annoyance as Bulma dabbed his lacerated temple with an antiseptic gel. He had since taken a long shower and was clad in in a black Capsule Corp tank top and sweatpants. Bulma couldn't help but enjoy his relaxed outfit, especially when he looked so damn good in her logo.

"Oh, stop being such a baby and let me help you." She chided. "You're not as bad as Trunks but I still want to make sure you don't get infected or anything." Smoothing out the gel with her fingertip and pulling back to scrutinize her work.

He rolled his eyes. "When has that ever happened?"

"You can never be too careful." She retorted, giving him a peck on the cheek which he groaned against and proceeded to wipe away the wet mark with the back of his hand. "So how did he get that cut on his side?" Bulma asked while washing her hands at the sink.

"Fighting." He replied curtly.

She pursed her lips at his narrow explanation. "Fine. Don't be specific. Did the plan work?"

He leaned back at the windowsill as he crossed his arms, looking off. "The plan was successful. Up until the distraction phase."

She drew her eyebrows together. "You weren't able to make one?"

He shrugged his shoulders while letting out a light snort. "I was considering something. The boy ended up making one for me. Worked out better than what we had discussed." He uncrossed his arms as his eyeline continued to stare at nothing in particular. "How is she?" He asked with nonchalance.

Bulma smiled to herself at the feigned indifferent attitude of her Saiyan Prince. He wouldn't of asked if he really didn't care. "Recovering. She lost a lot of blood. If you guys didn't get back as soon as you did, she probably wouldn't have made it."

He grunted in acknowledgment.

"I'm gonna go visit her now. Do you want to come?"

"Now why would I do that? I've done what I had to do. She's his responsibility now."

"Alright, you don't have to get all uppity with me. I understand how hard it is for you to show you care." She mocked playfully.

He tsked loudly at her remark and left in an annoyed huff to Bulma's amusement.


A slow blink with knitted brows, Riane looked around the space. It felt oddly familiar and unfamiliar, a hazy fragmented place that she recalled once before. She hadn't been there in a long time. An open living arrangement with a quaint table and seating area, the room seemed smaller than how she remembered. The last time she had been there was...

A low hum from behind her caused Riane to turn. A woman stood close enough to touch. She had shoulder length black hair and kind eyes. A familiar, comforting smile graced her face.

"Mother." Riane smiled back with relief.

The woman closed her eyes contentedly before opening them and letting out a small gasp. "Child, your daughter is beautiful." She whispered.

A soft cry as Riane looked down and held a small infant in her arms. She'd never held a child before but a wave of longing and protective bliss overtook her as she caressed the gentle head of the black haired, blue eyed girl. Blue eyes like his, she thought as she grinned into the child's face.

"May I?" her mother asked as she outstretched her arms. Riane nodded and placed the bundle into her hands. Riane's eyes focused and unfocused as she watched her mother coo to the infant.

Her mother's hand glided carefully over the tuft of black hair as the child's tail wrapped around her wrist. Riane's smile faded some as she cocked her head in slow realization.

"Mother." She uttered meekly. "You died."

The woman's eyes lost their luster as she glanced back up with sadness on her face, passed the child back to Riane and placed a hand on her own swollen middle. She pulled her hand away, blood covering the surface of her palm, and letting a river of steaming crimson stream onto the floor.

"My child." She said strained and her eyes amplified in Riane's vision, the dark irises fading to unmoved, greying, lifeless orbs.

"Mother, do not leave me. I need you." Riane heard herself say in a small voice as she looked down at the baby. In its place was a child, not an infant anymore, that held her hand. She stood at her side as a young adolescent, long black hair and blue eyes looking up at her in worry. The young girl released their clasped hands and walked forward with echoing steps at a slow pace. With every step, she got a little older.

Her hand reaching out, Riane watched in panic as the young blue-eyed woman strode away. She approached a man. She got into a fighting stance, clad in armor. He charged forward.

Riane wanted to move yet was unable to. Her legs felt plastered to the floor as she struggled to take a step. Her father appeared at her side, a sorrowful frown on his face. "I have taught you to have the utmost respect and pride of your heritage and to follow tradition because it is our way. Soon you will be told to enter the arena and fight for your honor, and what happens after, you must follow tradition."

She watched in strained alarm as the blue-eyed woman yielded, a trickle of tears fell down her proud face. A group of females came and helped her up and handed her over to the male.

"It is tradition." Riane said in reluctant determination. "I know my place."

Still, she felt a pull to protect the woman. She couldn't move forward. Her legs refusing to move an inch.

A foreign tail wrapped around Riane's waist and she turned her body to come face to face with her past aggressor. He towered over her as her clawed at her armor. Riane tried to resist. He was unrelenting. She gasped as she fought back. "You will produce a strong son from a real Saiyan." He said into her ear. She shut her eyes tightly.

Hearing her name echo over and over again, she opened them to view a comforting room. Unkempt and smelling of him, she let out a sigh of relief. For the first time in a long time, she felt truly safe. That realization terrified her.

"Hey." She turned suddenly to see him sitting on his bed, legs crossed with a smile. His blue eyes shone only for her.

She stared at Trunks as his face blurred then refocused.

"I was punished." She admitted out loud after some time. "For being with you."

"Yeah, you were." He agreed, matter-of-fact. A tail snaked out from behind him and lazily waved back and forth in distraction. Her eyes followed the brown appendage as she reached to her backside and found nothing there.

"They took mine." She said sullenly.

"They did."

"I don't want that life anymore." She declared hesitantly, sharp breathing at the weight of her own words. Her eyes brimmed with tears.

"Then don't go back." He said conclusively.

She realized she had been standing far from him. She reached out a hand to touch but found he was further away than her legs wanted to move. Riane relented to the lack of contact.

"Did you mean what you said?" She inquired.

Trunks nodded with a small smile. "Yes. I love you." She slightly winced at the foreign concept.

The words stuck in her throat like cotton. "I love you." Riane choked out in earnest, hoping it had the same effect. She wrinkled her nose as it felt just as foreign to say as it was to hear. He smiled brightly in reassurance. She felt a tightness in her chest from the sentiment and a warmth she couldn't place.

His room melted into a brightly lit, white space. He faded along with it as did her safe, comforting feeling. Confusion set in followed by pain.


Riane woke up groggy, the ebb of peaceful sedation morphing to a splitting headache that shot through her temples. Her mind was fogged, the hauntings of hazy scenes she was slowly forgetting clouded her thoughts. Disoriented, she looked around the room, coming to the slow realization she was back at Capsule Corp with no recollection of how she got there. It reeked of sterile cleanser and antiseptic. An IV bag and medical cart were placed near her bed. Panning down her left side, she had an uncomfortable splint on her forearm that itched horribly as she flexed her fingers. She lifted herself using her right side to a sitting position and clutched her abdomen as a sharp exhale of breath escaped. She felt the rough, thick gauze around her middle, still painfully sore after being beaten so badly. Sweeping her gaze around the room, she suddenly saw the sleeping form of her violet haired half Saiyan curled into a short couch at the far end of the room, snoring softly. She craned her head and noticed dark circles under his eyes and disheveled appearance. Clearly, he had been here for some time, most likely waiting for her to wake. Unsure of how to feel about her current location, the stinging in her head made it difficult to process much else beyond physical discomfort.

A phantom feeling of her tail wrapping around her waist in typical familiar fashion brought her memories back to the last thing she could place. With a hesitant hand, she gasped with sudden grief as her fingertips touched her backside over the scabbed nub where the only physical piece that connected her to her heritage was taken by force. Riane closed her eyes tight, holding back tears of mourning, sharp inhale as she brought her empty fist to press into her bandaged face.

Deciding she had had enough, she pulled back a portion of the blankets when suddenly, the door to her room smoothly opened. Initially alarmed, she watched the blue hair matriarch smile genuinely, glance over at Trunks then plod somewhat silently over. Riane dropped her tensed shoulders as Bulma took a seat at the foot of the bed with one leg relaxed, bent at an angle and the other hanging, toe on the floor. She reached over and touched Riane's cheek gingerly.

"You're awake. How are you feeling?" She asked in a slightly hushed tone.

"I don't know," Riane confessed in a whisper, testing out the octave of her voice as she still felt the haziness of being drugged. She winced under gentle fingers.

Bulma continued to smile and peered over again at her exhausted son. "You don't have to whisper. He sleeps like the dead." She leaned forward with scrutinizing eyes. "Let me see your face." Bulma took the Saiyan's chin. She resisted warily at first but gave in as the Earthling moved her face left and right, taking note of the yellowing bruises nearly healed. She felt the woman carefully peel back the white bandage on her forehead, remarking with a satisfied grunt. "You almost look back to normal. Saiyan genes. One day I'll figure out how to bottle your rapid healing cells. Would be nice to recover from near death in a day."

Feeling the loosening grip of the manicured hand, Riane retracted her face.

"Something wrong?" Bulma inquired, drawing her brows together.

"What am I doing here?" She asked with slight apprehension in her voice.

"They rescued you. You went up with Vegeta and Trunks followed. They brought you back. You nearly died."

She wrinkled her brow. "I was supposed to. I committed a crime against my clan. I was supposed-"

Bulma held up a hand. "Stop. You did nothing wrong." She insisted while scooting closer in support.

"You don't understand. I'm not supposed to be here. I don't belong here." Her tone cracked with guilt and veiled with fear. The tray on her lap clattered some making Bulma lift it away and place it on the medical cart.

"Hey, you don't have to be afraid of them. They're not coming. I saw the ship leave our orbit hours ago." She assured her. "I don't get why you say you don't 'belong' here. Help me understand why that is." She asked smooth and slow, trying to alleviate some of the girl's distress by remaining calm herself.

"I'm not an Earthling. I was raised to hold loyalty to my kinsmen over all others. I owe them everything. My values and traditions. We lived for each other. Without them, I'm nothing." She confessed hollowly, the effects of sedation loosening her tongue.

"That seems rather bleak. I get the tribalism part. Even though they tried to kill you," she mentioned pointedly as Riane averted her eyes in mild shame, "I can see how they have shaped your perspective on life. You probably felt some meaning under all that duty and honor. A deep sense of purpose. I understand why you felt you needed to go back." Riane pressed her hands into her lap tightly feeling Bulma's uncomfortably empathetic gaze on her. "While you were gone, I had time to think about what it would be like when you returned here. I knew it would be immensely difficult. You have woken up on the other side and are very clearly dealing with a variety of emotions in reaction to events out of your control. But let me ask you, after what they've done to you, do you still feel you need them?"

She blinked a few times in trying to process a response to the direct question. "They are all I've ever known." She replied meekly, cringing at the weakness in her voice.

Bulma didn't seem to notice her self-consciousness. "You felt safe with them?"

She shook her head tersely. "It was not about safety. It was loyalty." She corrected.

Bulma solemnly nodded. A light, sharp inhale from the sleeping half Saiyan made Riane turn her head to him only to watch him groan and continue dozing. She returned her attention and immediately felt embarrassment at the sight of Bulma's knowing grin. "I know there aren't very many of the Saiyans left so you have a strong sense of identity and commitment with the others. Vegeta still occasionally reflects onto his past in that way." Bulma placed a caring hand on Riane's forearm and smiled warmly, noting the woman didn't pull away. "You don't have to be with others that force compliance and loyalty. You are your own person. And if you feel better with a clan or kin or family, I know that one over there wants to share that with you. I know it will be hard to step away from what you've been accustomed to, but they lost their chance to make you feel special and wanted. I hope you see that you are wanted here. I'm glad you didn't die. I think I would have missed that stubborn face of yours."

Bulma patted her hand and rose from the bed. At the threshold, Riane looked up and called after her.

"Bulma? Why did you let Trunks come after me?"

The matriarch paused for a short time to consider how to respond. She took a conclusive breath after a moment. "People cannot be forced to care for others, they choose to. Trunks would have tried to find a way to get to you whether I helped him or not. He wanted to protect you. He made the choice to go after someone he cared about even if it meant going against your wishes."

When Bulma left with a soft click of the door latch, Riane got out of bed and ambled over to sit on the floor at Trunks' side. An arm lay across his middle as she watched his chest rise and fall in slumber.

She considered what it meant to be cared for. The Earthlings had found a way to trust someone outside their own circle in such a short period of time whereas her clan refused to trust anyone other than those within the clan. They built guarded walls of superiority and purism of which reestablished a sense of pride and loyalty while dismissing outsider input. The world she lived in existed without the influence of others solely due to their limited survivorship from tragic events in the past and a desire to be better than before under the fierce direction of a 'Saiyan only' mindset.

She realized she felt exiled from the clan and it pained her to admit that there were facets of their way of life that harmed more than helped. The deep commitment to camaraderie forced isolation. The ingrained loathe of all beings outside the group, especially hybrids for muddling a puritanical mentality, prevented expansion and potential thriving of the surviving members. The infighting amongst her clansmen due to social status caused a rift between the Elites and the lower class. The inconsistencies and issues were made more apparent living with the Earthlings who openly questioned and challenged everything she held as truth.

The value, traditions, and beliefs that shaped her sense of self faltered as she observed his face. He didn't have to get to know her. He didn't have to learn to trust her. He didn't have to care for her. But he did. He risked himself to get her to safety on a foreign ship with a large group of Saiyans that despised him for existing to bring her back. He cared.

With a long sigh, she reluctantly accepted her fate. It would take time to break away from the grip on her heart that pulled to a life where she was compliant and obedient. She was resolved in being adaptive, as difficult as the change may be.

"Trunks?" She reached out a hand to touch his face but felt the need to hesitate. Instead, she pulled it back and tried to verbally wake him again. "Trunks." She said a little louder and smiled a little at seeing him stir.

"I'm up, Mom." He mumbled as he rubbed his eyes. He finally focused on her face with surprise. "Ri? You're awake." He beamed widely.

His face suddenly dropped as his eyebrows knitted darkly, sitting up and roughly taking her in his arms to Riane's startled embarrassment.

"I'm sorry, Ri." He choked out into her neck. "I should have gotten to you sooner. I should have done something. It was my fault you got hurt. You almost died. I don't-"

"Trunks." She pulled away and looked into his face stricken with worry and guilt. "It wasn't your fault. I was following orders to go back. I thought I was making the right decision. I realize now maybe it wasn't." She admitted.

He drew her back into his protective embrace. "I don't want to think that I could have lost you."

After some time listening to his breathing as his grip loosed to a comforting hold, she sat back as her features changed to uneasy contemplation.

"What are you thinking?" He inquired watching her mood darken.

"I have lost everything." She responded in an agitated hush. "I have no position, no clan, no tail, I can never see my father again." Her fists clenched with slow anger as her breath quickened through clenched teeth. "They have abandoned me and I feel as though I am not a Saiyan. I am not an Earthling. What am I going to do now?" She hissed out bitterly while turning away from his gaze.

Trunks took her biceps in his firm hands and rubbed up and down, trying to soothe the anxiety in her voice hidden by aggravation. "Hey, look at me. We can do this. I know I've said it a bunch of times and I meant it then like I do now. I want you to stay. We can work through this." He felt her tense arms slacken some as she took a deep breath. "And if you're worried about what you'll do here, you can do whatever you want, I guess." He vaguely surmised as she winced at the lack of concrete direction. "Look, I know you've never had freedom from obligation, but whatever you want to do, I'm here. You have me."

Still unsure, she gritted her teeth in annoyance. She detested feeling vulnerable and while she had flitted with the tentative thoughts of staying before as fanciful notions when their relationship was new and exciting, currently the weight of insecurity, indecision and sudden freedom stirred an angry bitterness of how to handle her venture into uncertainty.

Recognizing her inner struggle, he tried to put forth some semblance of reassurance. "I hope you can trust me. Can you do that?"

After a time of hesitation, she reluctantly nodded. He nodded back with a grin and placed a chaste kiss on her cheek. He lingered at her ear. "We're mates, right?" He breathed tentatively, waiting for an acknowledgment.

A small smile tugged at her lips. "I believe so."

He chuckled and rubbed her cheek with his thumb, his blue eyes met her black. "I'm glad you're alive."

"Me too."


Brief whistling, a strong, short-lived gust and a plume of grass and dirt forcefully disturbed interrupted his thoughts from under the canopy of several large oaks in the backyard. When the clods of dirt finally diminished, Vegeta stalked cautiously from the treeline to the small crater in the yard, a rocket looking projectile sticking out of the ground. He stared intently at the foreign object. Seeing no immediate threat, he narrowed his eyes in suspicion and kicked the still hot device with enough force to dent it. The lid of it moderately popped open, revealing a glimpse of red in the interior. He scoffed to himself in amusement as he pulled out the red cape, draped it over his arm and retrieved a square piece of paper elegantly written in their mother language.

~Prince Vegeta,

I am not going to presume to know all of the reasons behind your aggressive methods for garnering a reaction, however, I will admit I do respect the way in which you did it. I would have never seen the potential of my men and my own abilities were it not for the egregious callousness you inflicted. You made your point. The Saiyan race will continue without you yet it was because of you we are able to move on. I hope our paths never cross again.

I offer my gratitude,

Queen Ascion- First of Her Name

"She just wanted to have the last word." He said aloud, scoffing derisively at the correspondence as he reread the letter, the cape fluttered gracefully in the breeze.


The simple two bedroom condo sparkled as the cleaning bots, given as a housewarming gift from Bulma, finished their rounds for the day. A wafting of artificial lemon from the cleanser, the collection of various cut flowers on the dining table and meat with vegetables brazing in the oven permeated the small space as Riane held a dry washcloth to her nose. The familiar scents of their home, occupied over the past 3 years, usually pleasant and welcoming, had her feeling queasy lately and seemed to have piqued. She knew why. Seated at the dining table, she pushed the blue ceramic vase of fragrant foliage as far away as possible. She breathed into a dry cotton washcloth that smelled faintly of clean laundry soap and waited, her mind drifting off. The clock said 4:00. He should be home soon.

Twenty minutes later, an exhausted Trunks in casual black trousers and dark grey button-down trudged through the front door. He put his forefinger and thumb into the crook of his eyes in exhaustive relief of being home, put down his briefcase with a thud and kicked off his shoes absentmindedly.

"I had the absolute worst day." He said with a long sigh as he strode over to the table and plopped himself down on a chair opposite her.

Riane tensed and tried to be supportive, unsure of how to bring up what she had to say if he seemed to be at his wit's end. "What happened?" She inquired.

"Two of my team left Research and Development. They claimed they had better offers. I couldn't match it. One of them was my best guy. Now the jobs are halted until I can find replacements. Then after that, I come back from lunch and half of my expense reports are just missing. I find out one of my new assistants altered them somehow and I spent the next 3 hours recovering whatever the hell he did to them. It was a shitty day." He leaned back with his eyes closed. Riane's empty hand was resting on the surface of the table and he took it, rubbing circles with his thumb. It seemed to soothe him as he finally sat up and gave her his attention with a short sigh. "It smells nice in here." He said with a soft smile.

Averting her eyes, she nodded, cloth still in her hand, pressed under her nose. He gave her a curious look as the silence became noticeably tense.

He scrutinized her face in question. "What?"

"It sounds like you've had a rough day." Attempting to delay the inevitable.

Trunks noticed her tension and began to be concerned. "It was." He agreed suspiciously. "What's going on?" He pushed, sitting up straighter and taking her hand in both of his.

She opened her mouth but no sound came out. Instead, after a stifling few moments, she pulled his hand gently but firm enough for him to get up off his chair and step over to her side. Without a word, she hesitantly took his palm and placed it over her abdomen.

She tentatively stared up at him. A puzzled look crossed his face until his mind clicked, his eyes drifted off for a second then opened to wide circles.

He dropped to his knees in shock, both hands now clutching her middle. "You're pregnant?" He asked, near breathless.

Riane nodded, her outward demeanor controlled. Trunks, however, could hardly contain himself, grinning widely, eyes glossing over in pure happiness.

"I knew you would find out eventually. I just didn't know how to tell you." She admitted hushed.

"Why? We had already been trying for a while and-"

"I know. I thought it just wouldn't happen. I'm still…" Her brows came together with a pained look. Trunks jovial face dropped slowly as he observed her biting her lip. He waited for her to open up with her thoughts.

"I have issues with…," she began as her features construed. "With keeping them." She said finally in a shamed hush.

She could see his sullen appearance at her confession. Without warning, he took her roughly in his arms and hugged her tight. Riane grunted at the unexpected contact then smiled at his protective nature.

"It is not your fault. It has never been your fault. You will always have me, okay? Even if," she could hear the strain in his voice, "we lose it, you will always have me. I will always be here for you."

Relishing his embrace and wetness stinging her eyes, Riane decided to change the subject slightly so as not to cry in front of him. "So, I assume you're happy about this?"

He pulled back and cupped her face in his hands with a huge smile. She couldn't help but smile back. "Yeah, I'm really happy about this. Ecstatic." He placed a prolonged kiss on her lips that she had to pull away first. He continued to grin with a hand tenderly on her middle. "Give me 100 bad days, if they all end like this, I'd gladly take them."

She chuckled in solace as he laid his ear to her middle. They both had a new future to look forward to.