special thanks as always to my betas, meganechan and over8000.

mal: indeed, he might be a touch depressed..

Did you know, human, that on Earth the seasons follow each other like clockwork? That you can tell the time of year and how much time that has passed simply by looking at the hour the sun rises, its height at its apex, and average temperature during the day? Well, I suppose you did. It never ceases to amaze me, however.

Summer fades to brown and grey, and now autumn has set in because apparently that's what the Earth does. Your years are divided in four parts: winter, spring, summer and autumn. I don't know if that happens on other planets because I never stuck around long enough to notice - but it's fucking convenient, isn't it? Like a little clock ticking away in the background, giving you live updates on how much time you have left. Tick tock, tick tock.. Less than a year to go… Tick Tock.

"Some tea, dear?" The mother gushes at me. Happy as always, even this early in the morning. Daughter and father take after each other in that they are nothing like this. They nurse their coffee with bleary eyes, not even able to focus before their second cup. Then again, the woman and I kept each other up most of the night. I wonder what the old man's excuse is.

I shrug. "And more of the pastries, too." I mean, I might as well.

The ditz is ecstatic, places assorted plates before me. "I'm so glad to have a man around that appreciates good cooking. That's my Bulma! Knows a man when she sees one, ey?"

Her suggestions make me feel somewhat uncomfortable. Does she know what's going on between her daughter and me? I've been nothing but discreet. Did Bulma tell? It's not inconceivable; as unwise as it is to spill such a dirty secret, the woman is definitely more open about such matters than I. But I try not to let it bother me, for who cares about the opinions of earthlings? Not me.

The mother's comments do rouse that blue bed-head from her stupor, and she unsteadily focusses her gaze at me. "Might be indulging a bit too much, Vegeta. I think you might be getting pudgy there."

Right. Probably, but what does it matter? I shove two more of the baked goods into my mouth and give her a side-long stare. She only sighs as I work my way through the pastries and assorted confections, starting with one from each platter. She just stares, slowly downs her last coffee, then asks: "Are you even still trying?"

"Trying what?" I ask, without bothering to swallow. Crumbs fall from my mouth. That doesn't matter to me either.

Bulma sighs again. "What do you do in that Gravity Room all day, anyways?"

Now, I do swallow. I lie on the floor and think about when I get to fuck you again. There isn't much else to do, really. She works all day, so bothering her is apparently 'not appreciated'. Sometimes, I use her bots to train. I turn up the gravity as far as I dare, and pretend to care enough to get out of the way when they shoot at me. Sometimes, I forget to move. Sometimes I tell myself the pain of a good hit will get me off my ass. That it would remind me of who I am, what I need to do. Yet all it does is give me a reason to interrupt her work and get her to bandage me up.

I shouldn't let it bother me. Shouldn't let any of it bother me. But now this - coming from her no less. All of this was her idea, wasn't it? I know, I'm not cut out for this. I was never cut out for any of this. I'm a wolf in sheep's clothing. Not proverbially, I came here to kill you all and probably eat you as well; I never looked too close at the meats Nappa roasted over our fire. Yet I've been letting the sheep feed me tea and confections while I fuck their daughter… uhg. I'm more of a parasite at this point and it eats at me from the inside.

A little cupcake crumbles to pieces in my hand. "What do you care, woman?"

She places a hand over the slight bump of her stomach, gives me a wry smile. "I think I've shown by now that I care quite a bit. And I've done everything I can to help you become a Super Saiyan. But you.. you've given up, haven't you?"

She's hardly showing, but the idea of her pregnancy fills me with dread. It's there, inside of her, growing. I leap to my feet and growl at her. "That stupid growth proofs nothing!"

Bulma frowns, like she does almost all the time now, and admonishes me. "Oh dear, and I thought you promised not to care."

I don't. I hope it dies. At least, before I have to meet it. I hope she cuts it out soon before she gets all fat and ugly like those mammals that bare young without gestation chambers usually do. Before the little pest kills her.

"Perhaps this was a mistake. The dwarfism and scowl are probably hereditary," she quips, slowly shakes her head and leans back in her chair. "And possibly the personality disorders too... I think maybe if I was set on a half-alien child, I should have talked to Chi-chi about a procuring a genetically sound specimen."

Oh, the goading. It gets worse every day. I spare the mother a glance, but she quickly turns back to her cooking. The father mumbles, picks up his coffee and leaves. Good enough. It is perhaps time for a little heart to heart with the woman. I point at her belly. "That thing is a mistake," I agree. "Get rid of it already."

"No take-backs, Vegeta. This baby is mine, remember?"

"Fine, You do what you want. And I'll do what I want." I shrug then sit back down after grabbing another assortment of snacks. There's less than a year left before the androids come to kill us all, so I think we all deserve our little delusions before death. Right? If she thinks having a baby right now is a good idea... "Like I said, I don't care."

She glares at me through lowered eyelashes, deep in thought as she pokes at me again. "You know Vegeta, this defeatism doesn't look good at you at all."

The sweets turn ashen in my mouth. Bulma is right, of course. I'm not a wolf, just a stupid dog with a thick skull. Kick it a few times, and it learns not to chew on the furniture. Sure, I still dream of tearing this place to pieces and dancing on everyone's corpses. But it's just a dream, something to fantasize about before sleep claims me. I won't do it. Not even on the last day before the androids. Not because I don't want to, but because I don't have it in me.

I've done it again; let them tame me. Like before, when I stopped believing. How disgusting. I swallow, realising. "I need to get out of here."

I had not meant to say it out loud, but she hears me. "Yes. perhaps that would be for the best."

She shrugs at my shocked expression. Her stare slides down to her coffee, as she seems to come to some decision that was probably in the making for a long time. "I think you should leave. I think that might be best."

"What?" She can't kick me out. She can't! I can't... Where would I go? Then I squint at her in realization.. "You're trying to manipulate me, aren't you? Trying to make you do what you want."

She sighs, slowly. "I'm trying to help you, Vegeta. It is a different thing, not that you'd notice. But you've given up. You probably gave up a long time ago, didnt you? I just didn't notice. And now, perhaps we really are just holding you back."

I lean forward, my hands on the table and stare down at her. I know all about helping. I'm about to give her a piece of my mind when she cuts me off. "When did it happen, Vegeta? When did you first give up? Was it during the first week, when you didn't make the transformation? Or before, perhaps, back when you died on Namek. Or, perhaps even..."

Teeth bared, I shout over her. "I don't need you! You need me. Remember I could end you, end you all!"

"Really, is that a threat, or would you like to stake your honor on that? I suppose, personally, I could not stop you, but I think I know a certain Saiyan..."

"Fuck you. Maybe I will go. I hope you all die."

"Ok." she slaps a hand on the table and straightens up, like that settles things. Like we've come to some form of agreement.

"OK?!"

"You can come back once you straighten yourself out." Suddenly Bulma is all smiles again. She releases the mug in front of her with a friendly, relieved smile and sits back, like that's the end of that. What the fuck? "Come and see me then. Come see your son, ok?"

"He's not my son."

"Yes he is." She smiles again, but this time it's like she's won a prize. "And remember, Vegeta, we're family now. I do hope you'll come back to us."