Disclaimer: I have decided to use this space for something more productive. I just don't know what it is yet, exactly.
A/N: Unfortunately, I have returned. Yes, the horror prevails! I apologize profusely for the short chapters, but I can't seem to write long ones . . . my mind fluctuates too much to actually settle down and stick with one thing. Anyway, here ya go, enjoy!
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5 years later . . .
"I want spaghetti."
"Alright."
"And bread."
"Of course."
"And soup."
"What kind?"
"All of them."
"But . . . "
"And chicken."
"Along with the spaghetti, bread, and soup?"
"Yes. And fish."
"Instead of the chicken?"
"Baka! Did I say that?"
"No sir . . . please, go on."
"That's all."
"Are you sure? That's quite a lot to be eating for breakfast . . ."
"And you're talking quite a lot to be someone who's paid to cook."
The flustered servant quickly got up and rushed to the kitchen, nearly running over Callia on the way.
"Oh! I'm very sorry, my queen!" he bowed deeply while still running, causing him to accidentally run into the wall. He quickly recovered and turned the corner.
She stared after him strangely, wondering what had gotten the new head cook into such a state of panic. It immediately made sense when she saw her son come out of office with a wicked smirk to rival her own. She found her mouth curling to meet the expression of little Vegeta.
"Scaring the cook already? Wow, you've got talent little tsuban . . . I wasn't terrorizing household servants until I was at least 5 and a half!"
He looked up in surprise, and broke into a genuine grin.
"Mama!" he cried happily, running and jumping into her arms. She grimaced, then laughed and tightened her arms to carry him.
"Mama, what's wrong? Why aren't you training?" he asked, noticing the grimace.
Normally Callia was up before both Vegetas, and trained until afternoon. The elder of the Vegetas got up shortly afterwards and was occupied for most of the day with meetings. Suleepa looked after the little prince in the mornings, although she usually left him to his own devices. Actually, he demanded that he was a fully functional saiyan with 5 whole years of life experience, and would take care himself just fine thank you very much.
"It's nothing . . . just a little scratch. But the doctor's making me rest for a few days anyway." She rolled her eyes.
Vegeta looked at his mother in surprise. No one ever told her what to do.
She saw the confusion on his face and sighed. "Ok, fine, he ordered all my swords to be hidden."
He burst out into laughter, imagining the rage that the queen must have gone into when she discovered that her swords were missing. These kinds of revelations generally led to explosions and decimated buildings, and he wondered why the sound of a blast hadn't woken him up this morning.
"Did you blast him? Huh? Did you?" he asked eagerly, uncurling his tail from his waist and wrapping it around her arm. Callia shook her head, and he groaned in disappointment.
"Sorry kid, no fireworks this time. I don't think your father would have been too happy to get another doctor so soon." She snickered as Vegeta frowned petulantly. "That never stopped you before!"
This was true.
She ruffled his hair fondly. "Don't worry about it, you'll be blowing up your own doctors in no time!"
Suddenly a thought occurred to him. "You promised you were going to start training me today!"
She nodded nonchalantly. "Sure, right after breakfast. Speaking of which, lets go to the dining hall . . . the food should be ready by now. That is, unless . . . " she smirked, "the cook had a nervous breakdown from your breakfast order and tried disemboweling himself with a fish!"
Vegeta unwrapped his tail from his mother's arm and hopped down, walking with her down the corridor.
"But you can't train today. You're hurt!" he protested, looking up at her as they walked.
She shrugged and kept on looking straight ahead. "Like I said, it's only a scratch. Besides, the doctor said no training for me . . . he never said that I couldn't be the one doing the training."
Vegeta simply grinned at this; he should have known that Callia wouldn't back down from her promise. There was, however, one thing that still nagged at his mind . . .
"Mama?"
"Hmm?"
"What's disemboweling?"
They stopped in front of the massive wooden dining hall doors. She paused for a second and studied his serious expression.
"Kami," she thought to herself, "he looks so much like his father when he does that!"
She pushed open the doors, revealing the extravagant dining hall. It could have probably fit half the saiyan population, but at the moment it would only be the two of them.
"You sure you want to know? It's not exactly the best thing to hear before breakfast. Or midday meals. Or dinner. Actually, it's just not a good thing to hear if you want to eat ever again."
He nodded firmly.
"Well here's the detailed version . . ."
5 minutes later . . .
"WHAT?!" Vegeta turned a strange hue of green for a split second, then quickly recovered and stormed through the door that connected the room to the kitchen.
"YOU BETTER KEEP YOUR INTESTINES OUT OF MY FOOD!"
"That's my boy!" Callia thought proudly, laughing as she heard her little terror frightening (and not to mention confusing) the poor cooks to death.
"Sir...?!"
"You heard me!"
"I . . . I don't understand!"
"Do . . . not . . . GET YOUR INNARDS IN MY FOOD!"
"But I . . ."
"Give me that fish!"
There was a loud crash, and he stalked out of the kitchen. "Clean that up and hurry up and make my food! I'm hungry!" he called angrily over his shoulder as the door swung closed.
The sight of the little prince with bits of fish embedded in his hair and tail made Callia laugh harder. He shot her an indignant look, which had the queen of all saiyans nearly rolling around on the floor in hysterics. She finally managed to get a hold of herself when he turned his head, revealing a fish head sticking up from his thick black gravity-defying hair. She burst into gales of laughter once again.
"Mama, it's not funny!"
She stopped abruptly and nodded solemnly.
"I'm sorry, no, it's not."
She paused.
"Son, I have something very important to tell you."
"What?" Vegeta asked suspiciously.
Callia placed her hand on his shoulder and looked him straight in the eye.
"You . . ."
He looked at her expectantly.
". . . HAVE A FISH HEAD IN YOUR HAIR!" she exclaimed, plucking out the offending object and dangling it in front of his face.
He growled and attempted to snatch it away, but she quickly yanked her hand back. Just then they both heard a polite cough, and the highly amused mistress of the palace turned around to see the servers cowering behind the trays of food they held at the door.
"It's alright, you can come in," she said lightly. "Little Veggie won't eat you. Actually, I'm pretty sure he made it very clear that he DOESN'T want to eat you." Vegeta scowled and said nothing as he took a seat in his chair, glaring murderously at the servers, daring them to say a word.
A/N (wow, I bet you could've sworn you've seen this before!): Next up is the training! I seem to be having difficulty staying 100% conscious for long amounts of time, so I'll get to that after I get some much-needed sleep over the weekend. Wish me dreams of Trunks and/or Veggie!
A/N: Unfortunately, I have returned. Yes, the horror prevails! I apologize profusely for the short chapters, but I can't seem to write long ones . . . my mind fluctuates too much to actually settle down and stick with one thing. Anyway, here ya go, enjoy!
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
5 years later . . .
"I want spaghetti."
"Alright."
"And bread."
"Of course."
"And soup."
"What kind?"
"All of them."
"But . . . "
"And chicken."
"Along with the spaghetti, bread, and soup?"
"Yes. And fish."
"Instead of the chicken?"
"Baka! Did I say that?"
"No sir . . . please, go on."
"That's all."
"Are you sure? That's quite a lot to be eating for breakfast . . ."
"And you're talking quite a lot to be someone who's paid to cook."
The flustered servant quickly got up and rushed to the kitchen, nearly running over Callia on the way.
"Oh! I'm very sorry, my queen!" he bowed deeply while still running, causing him to accidentally run into the wall. He quickly recovered and turned the corner.
She stared after him strangely, wondering what had gotten the new head cook into such a state of panic. It immediately made sense when she saw her son come out of office with a wicked smirk to rival her own. She found her mouth curling to meet the expression of little Vegeta.
"Scaring the cook already? Wow, you've got talent little tsuban . . . I wasn't terrorizing household servants until I was at least 5 and a half!"
He looked up in surprise, and broke into a genuine grin.
"Mama!" he cried happily, running and jumping into her arms. She grimaced, then laughed and tightened her arms to carry him.
"Mama, what's wrong? Why aren't you training?" he asked, noticing the grimace.
Normally Callia was up before both Vegetas, and trained until afternoon. The elder of the Vegetas got up shortly afterwards and was occupied for most of the day with meetings. Suleepa looked after the little prince in the mornings, although she usually left him to his own devices. Actually, he demanded that he was a fully functional saiyan with 5 whole years of life experience, and would take care himself just fine thank you very much.
"It's nothing . . . just a little scratch. But the doctor's making me rest for a few days anyway." She rolled her eyes.
Vegeta looked at his mother in surprise. No one ever told her what to do.
She saw the confusion on his face and sighed. "Ok, fine, he ordered all my swords to be hidden."
He burst out into laughter, imagining the rage that the queen must have gone into when she discovered that her swords were missing. These kinds of revelations generally led to explosions and decimated buildings, and he wondered why the sound of a blast hadn't woken him up this morning.
"Did you blast him? Huh? Did you?" he asked eagerly, uncurling his tail from his waist and wrapping it around her arm. Callia shook her head, and he groaned in disappointment.
"Sorry kid, no fireworks this time. I don't think your father would have been too happy to get another doctor so soon." She snickered as Vegeta frowned petulantly. "That never stopped you before!"
This was true.
She ruffled his hair fondly. "Don't worry about it, you'll be blowing up your own doctors in no time!"
Suddenly a thought occurred to him. "You promised you were going to start training me today!"
She nodded nonchalantly. "Sure, right after breakfast. Speaking of which, lets go to the dining hall . . . the food should be ready by now. That is, unless . . . " she smirked, "the cook had a nervous breakdown from your breakfast order and tried disemboweling himself with a fish!"
Vegeta unwrapped his tail from his mother's arm and hopped down, walking with her down the corridor.
"But you can't train today. You're hurt!" he protested, looking up at her as they walked.
She shrugged and kept on looking straight ahead. "Like I said, it's only a scratch. Besides, the doctor said no training for me . . . he never said that I couldn't be the one doing the training."
Vegeta simply grinned at this; he should have known that Callia wouldn't back down from her promise. There was, however, one thing that still nagged at his mind . . .
"Mama?"
"Hmm?"
"What's disemboweling?"
They stopped in front of the massive wooden dining hall doors. She paused for a second and studied his serious expression.
"Kami," she thought to herself, "he looks so much like his father when he does that!"
She pushed open the doors, revealing the extravagant dining hall. It could have probably fit half the saiyan population, but at the moment it would only be the two of them.
"You sure you want to know? It's not exactly the best thing to hear before breakfast. Or midday meals. Or dinner. Actually, it's just not a good thing to hear if you want to eat ever again."
He nodded firmly.
"Well here's the detailed version . . ."
5 minutes later . . .
"WHAT?!" Vegeta turned a strange hue of green for a split second, then quickly recovered and stormed through the door that connected the room to the kitchen.
"YOU BETTER KEEP YOUR INTESTINES OUT OF MY FOOD!"
"That's my boy!" Callia thought proudly, laughing as she heard her little terror frightening (and not to mention confusing) the poor cooks to death.
"Sir...?!"
"You heard me!"
"I . . . I don't understand!"
"Do . . . not . . . GET YOUR INNARDS IN MY FOOD!"
"But I . . ."
"Give me that fish!"
There was a loud crash, and he stalked out of the kitchen. "Clean that up and hurry up and make my food! I'm hungry!" he called angrily over his shoulder as the door swung closed.
The sight of the little prince with bits of fish embedded in his hair and tail made Callia laugh harder. He shot her an indignant look, which had the queen of all saiyans nearly rolling around on the floor in hysterics. She finally managed to get a hold of herself when he turned his head, revealing a fish head sticking up from his thick black gravity-defying hair. She burst into gales of laughter once again.
"Mama, it's not funny!"
She stopped abruptly and nodded solemnly.
"I'm sorry, no, it's not."
She paused.
"Son, I have something very important to tell you."
"What?" Vegeta asked suspiciously.
Callia placed her hand on his shoulder and looked him straight in the eye.
"You . . ."
He looked at her expectantly.
". . . HAVE A FISH HEAD IN YOUR HAIR!" she exclaimed, plucking out the offending object and dangling it in front of his face.
He growled and attempted to snatch it away, but she quickly yanked her hand back. Just then they both heard a polite cough, and the highly amused mistress of the palace turned around to see the servers cowering behind the trays of food they held at the door.
"It's alright, you can come in," she said lightly. "Little Veggie won't eat you. Actually, I'm pretty sure he made it very clear that he DOESN'T want to eat you." Vegeta scowled and said nothing as he took a seat in his chair, glaring murderously at the servers, daring them to say a word.
A/N (wow, I bet you could've sworn you've seen this before!): Next up is the training! I seem to be having difficulty staying 100% conscious for long amounts of time, so I'll get to that after I get some much-needed sleep over the weekend. Wish me dreams of Trunks and/or Veggie!