Daaaaaamn. Just read Silver Springs, by Severina. Awesome fic, but major depression factor. Go read it!
So, here I am again, writing the epilogue, detailing the Mirai events after Bulma and Trunks return. Man, I am so freaking depressed after that story! There's no way I'll sleep well if I don't cheer myself up, so I'll dwell on my reviews! Again, thank you everyone for reviewing, I even sucked in a few new people on that last chapter…or maybe they were just lurkers, waiting till the last chapter to review. Whatever it was, I know it's because…ah, gomen, I'm quoting P.O.D songs now. ^_^;
Here we go! Remember, this is Mirai timeline!
*~To Change the Future~*
(~*~)
*~Mirai Epilogue~*
"So, you think you can redo your work on their timeline, Trunks-chan?" Bulma questioned her son as he climbed back into the time capsule. She passed bags of food up to him, snacks for his trip, and other much-needed supplies.
"Sure. It wasn't too hard, and actually I know what to expect now."
"Don't let that stop you from making the same mistakes," she advised walking deeper into the lab to retrieve some small piece of hardware.
"I won't," Trunks assured, letting the top of the machine slide into place. He watched her intently till she placed the small patch of metal she had retrieved on her temple, wincing at the slight prick when it connected itself to her.
She lay a hand against the cool metal of the time machine, ritually tracing the four-lettter word etched onto its surface. She backed away when the engines began their hum, waving goodbye in excitement as he disappeared yet again.
She caressed the small piece of hardware softly, smiling to herself. It would separate her from the current timeline to some degree, allowing that week long memory fade to occur. She wanted to celebrate in her victory, not abruptly become the woman she should have been.
Having only three hours to kill before Trunks' return, she sat at the nearest console. She spoke quickly but with great detail, explaining the events of her past few days, the history of the alternate timeline, and their own tragic story. She paused a few times to eat and go to the restroom, once taking a cat-nap, but she was finished with an hour to spare.
Deciding that Trunks would be hungry when he returned, she proceeded to prepare a large meal, with a little extra, just in case.
(AN: Isn't it odd how you can be writing along at a good clip, and suddenly your inspiration dies and your like, d*mn, I need a break! (Or a good night's rest, as the case may be… -_-;; ))
(~*~)
"How would you like to fight a real Super Saiyan…and I'm not talking about Goku," Trunks stated, not for the first time he was grateful to himself for keeping that log of exactly what had gone on so many years ago. It was like memorizing a script. It was difficult not to skip over things and get right down to the point, as he was wont to do.
He sighed, it would be a long few years work…
(~*~)
Finishing up the potatoes, Bulma covered the dish and set it on the table. She stood straight again and froze, a certain scent assaulting her nose. Without pausing to wonder at how well she recalled his scent after he trained, she closed her eyes, inhaling his scent deeply again. She feared that her legs would give way if she saw him, but turned around anyway.
She trembled unontrollably as she took in the sight of him, wearing black shorts that left little to the imagination (though it only made her imagine more), tennish shoes, and a white towel draped around his neck. His skin shone with a sheen of sweat, face almost pink with exertion. Taking a few steps toward him, she lay a small hand on his chest.
"Vegeta," she breathed, becoming lost in his eyes. One eyebrow hiked up at her odd behavior, but he reluctantly curled an arm around her waist. Falling against him, she cried softly. Vegeta was now truly puzzled.
"What in Kami's name is wrong with you woman?" He questioned peevishly. She quieted slightly at the sound of his voice.
"Do you remember when Trunks came back to warn us about the androids?"
"Baka, of course I do," she nodded, brushing off his remark.
"That was our Trunks. He was describing the way this timeline was until just a few moments ago. We finally found a way to correct our own past, and change our future. So, I haven't really seen you in thirty years, a least as I recall. My memories will gradually revert back to the way things have happened, as you know they've happened. It'll take about a week, and then I'll be the way you know me again."
"Thirty years, huh?" She nodded. Smirking, he leaned his head down to speak softly in her ear. "Well then I don't suppose you would mind a quick seduction before dinner, eh?" She giggled.
"Not at all, though I might prefer a long seduction instead," she smiled up at him coyly.
"Ugh, I heard that you two! Gross…" Bra called from where she had appeared at the table, stomach rumbling menacingly. Bulma found herself smiling happily at the presence of their daugter.
"Shut up brat, you shouldn't be eavesdropping anyway," Vegeta replied waspishly, though his tone lacked any real malice.
Moving too fast for Bulma too detect, Vegeta threw her over his shoulder. She found herself unable to call up any anger at him though, her eyes mesmerized by the soft sway of his tail as he walked. She ran her hand down it, from base to tip. He stopped midstep, groaning quietly. Deciding quickly that he was not in any obvious pain, she repeated the caress, this time in reverse. His breath quickened even as he leaned against the wall for support. She smirked, grateful that the kids could feed themselves.
(~*~)
"Kaasan! I'm ba—" Trunks turned on his heel and walked the other direction, moritified at the sight of his parents making out in the hallway, now only half-dressed. Thankfully, all their important parts had been covered, but it didn't lessen the shock.
"Niichan! Dinner's in here," Bra's voice floated to him from the kitchen. Catching the look on his face as he entered, she continued. "They didn't make it did they?" She received a puzzled frown from her sibling. "They started getting horny on each other in the kitchen, and you know that if it starts in the kitchen, they never make it farther than that hallway. You found that out the hard way, 'member?" He nodded, vaguely recalling the intance. No teenager could come away from seeing their parents doing that without suffering a few mental scars. He shuddered, shrinking away from the awful mental picture that was associated with the memory.
Laughing evilly, Bra gestured for him to sit. Kio wandered through the kitchen moments later, gathering herself a plate of food befor heading outside to eat alone. Trunks shook his head, though he allowed himself a small smile at his accomplishment. All was well.
Shaking her head, Pan entered the kitchen, obviously having walked past Trunks parents on her way to food. She looked weary and frustrated as she sat down next to Trunks, who was trying hard to hide his shock.
"Your turn, dad," she muttered, jerking her thumb upstairs. He could almost hear a child crying from a room above their heads. "I tried feeding her, changing her, whatever. She's only happy when somebody is holding her, and if I hold her anymore, my arms will fall off." He nodded, kissing Pan on the lips quickly and heading upstairs.
Following the childs ki easily, he came upon the room ajoining his own. A crib was tucked in the corner, near the large picture window.
A tiny infant, no more than two weeks old was bawling loudly, her short fuzz of blue hair matted to her head from sleep. Clenched fists waved randomly through the air, and the sight of her set his memory on fire, the entire thirty years of his life replaced with new data. Clenching the crib tightly to keep from falling, he found himself suddenly able to recall the child's, his child's name.
Bulma continued crying at the lack of attention from her father, who still looked rather dazed. Recovering somewhat, he joyously picked up the child, quieting her by rubbing his thumb from her forehead to the tip of her nose. (AN: My dad did that when I was a baby, it worked)
"Touchan, why's Bulma cryin'? Is she sick?"
"Iie, Kizu-chan, she's just grumpy," he answered the child that entered the room and clung to his leg, staring with wonder up at the bundle in his arms. Her short, deep purple hair fell into her eyes, and she brushed it aside in a familiar gesture. Dark ebony eyes regarded him quietly. He thought for a moment, recalling Pan's age. Twenty-two. Four year's older than she was in the alternate timeline. And Bra was twenty-four.
"Trunks-ojisan(uncle)! Could you make her be quiet? Kaasan said I was gonna get the beating of my life if I don't get my nap," the word was spoken with such disgust from the toddler's mouth that Trunks couldn't help grinning at his nephew. Little Tenshi. Somehow he coouldn't mistake which grandfather the child resembled as he glared at the disruptive Chibi Bulma. One hand was resting on his hip while the other hung loosely by his side. Trunks smiled even wider.
His little empire, his largest accomplishment, his resurrected never-to-have-been family.
(~*~)
"Mmm…You've gotten good Vegeta," Bulma remarked, stretching lazily in the comfort of their bedroom.
"That is because I remember all the…practice…I've had. You'd better freshen up your skills or I might not do this with you again," he smirked, folding his arms behind his head. She ignored his very empty threat.
"You're saying this is our third favorite pasttime? I think it involves some of number two also. You sure put up a fight when I laid down that full house." (AN: Hentais!)
"That is because you cheated, by using the mirror behind me. I could have cheated too you know, I do have a direct link to your mind," he reminded. She stood and walked over to the window, watching the sun set. Vegeta was behind her in a moment, resting his head on her shoulder with his arms around her middle. "We started playing poker when?" she questioned, leaning against him, eyes closing relaxedly.
"When we were snowed in, Trunks was three." He buried his face in the crook of her neck, breathing heavily of her scent. "What do you say we get back to number one?" She jumped when he nipped her neck, then smoothed over the nip with a kiss. Turning to face him, she put her arms around his neck, tilting her head back for a long kiss. She pulled back for a breath, though kept their lips in contact, sharing air easily. She spoke softly, her voice filled with emotion.
"I missed you."
*~The End~*
Wow! Now it's really done! Well, minus the prequel, but I'm giving myself a break and some time to think before that happens.
By the way, Kio is Japanese (of course), meaning Past, or Bygone. Like I said, she was from my very first fic, and the name happened to fit in both circumstances. You will never see that fic, at least until I can redo it and figure out anything for it.
Kizu(na) means Bond, or Tie Between People. Hehe. I thought it was BRILLIANT!!! Am I not a brilliant name-thinker-upper?? I think so. ^_^
My joint fic with the wondrous Stef-chan is still in the planning stages, and I'll be sure to let anyone who's interested know when I get new stories out.
Once again, thank you so much for your reveiws and support!!! I never dreamed that I would get so many reveiws!! Y'all are so incredibly awesome!