o/~Pink - it's the color of passion 'cause today it just goes with the fashion o/~
Trunks found himself being scrutinised by his father, who was having trouble controlling his laughter. Trunks shifted uncomfortably still blushing madly. "Well I have to say the outfit looks better on you than it ever did on that woman." Vegeta finally said. "Nani..?" Trunks gave his father a confused look that slowly turned into suspicious. /Why did he have to find me like this? I just know I'll never live in peace again!!/ Trunks wailed in mental anguish, /And why does he keep staring at me, it'd be better if he just called me a baka and left!/
Vegeta, as he stared at his obviously confused son, sighed to himself and scowled irritably. He hated playing the loving father, and he really hated having father-son talks, but one was really needed here. /If I don't deal with the brat now, that stpuid woman is going to find out and take it up with him..../ No matter how much the Saiyan Prince hated helping his children with their teenage problems he wouldn't let Bulma meddle with Trunks' mind in her annnoying 'motherly' way. Vegeta made his decision.
"I think it's time we had a... talk.." the last word felt a little heavy on Vegeta's tongue, probably because he wasn't usually found asking people to talk to him. Trunks was still waiting to be murdered and was now lost for words.
"..but..."
"No buts." Vegeta cut him off, "We're going to talk. Now." Vegeta made his point by turning and walking from the room. Trunks' throat suddenly felt very dry, he swallowed a few times and followed his father from the room.
In the large kitchen of the Briefs' house, Vegeta stood with his arms folded across his chest, trying not to smirk as Trunk stood in the doorway tugging on his skirt.
"Sit." Vegeta guestured for Trunks to take a chair at the table. Trunks did so quietly, still pulling nervously on the bottom of his skirt. Vegeta went to the large fridge and took out two bottles of some strong alchoholic drink and opened them both. He slid one across the table to Trunks before sitting down opposite his son, still saying nothing. Vegeta didn't trust himself to say anything without thinking about it carefully at that moment in time, and the alcohol was more for his own nerves than Trunks'. To Trunks the silence between them was awkward, "You're not angry..?" He asked quietly.
"No." was his father's direct answer.
Trunks was confused but still didn't dare ask why, he was very wary of his Father in this unusually accepting mood. "You wont.. you wont tell mom will you..?" Trunks hid his blushing cheeks by staring down at his lap.
"Hn. You think she'd be angry? Trust me brat, she'd only laugh it off. She obviously found it very funny when she caught me..."
As his father's words hit his ears they hardly registered, Trunks slowly lifted his head and stared wide-eyed across the table at Vegeta.
Vegeta's eyes refused to meet Trunks', instead his gaze fell across the two bottles on the table-top between them. He wondered idly how come they'd been finished so quickly, now he was glad of an excuse to leave the table and the awkard feeling that came from knowing what he'd just confessed to Trunks. He got up quickly and crossed again to the fridge.
Trunks followed his father's movements. "Nani...?" He breathed in wonder.. "You..." he couldn't finish the question.. he really couldn't. Vegeta turned from the fridge, two freshly opened bottles clenched tight in his hands belying his inner turmoil. He shoved one at Trunks who was still gaping at him like an idiot. "You know mom doesnt really like me drinking.."
Vegeta took a long drink from the bottle he was left with.
"Fuck your mother." he stated simply, "We'll do as we like!"
With that Vegeta grabbed hold of Trunks' free hand and practically dragged him from the room.
/nani?!/ was all Trunks could think.
And Once again Trunks followed in his father's footsteps with apprehension, dread and more than a little confusion.