Just a warning tagged onto this chapter: there are slight yaoi undertones. More of one male appreciating the other's beauty. This isn't going to become a romance story (heck, that's the last thing I've got on my mind). Have fun! Feedback's appreciated.

Coward's Way

Part Two: Singing the Blues

"There's nothing wrong with you,
The simple life gets complicated,
There's nothing you can do,
Just enjoy the view, be glad you made it..."
-Mary Chapin Carpenter, Simple Life

"VEGETA!!!!"

The Saiya-jin prince cringed as Bulma's voice grated brutally on his ears. From somewhere in the background, he picked up Trunks and Goten giggling hysterically at something being played on the TV screen. With a groan of protest, Vegeta picked himself up from the kitchen table and reluctantly began heading over to the bedroom. The gauzy curtains allowed in only a limited amount of what little sunlight there was left, and clock ticked away, bit by bit, counting down the number of minutes the heir of a mighty race, the mad prince, spent as a daddy and grudgingly-dutiful husband.

Damn. She's probably found out about that thing…last week. No, that can't be it. It's probably about the Gravity Room. Or was it that incident involving Kakarot and that annoying mate of his?

Vegeta let out a yell as several canned items of food spilled from the shelf above and proceeded to prove that his thick mane of hair refused to defend him against metal objects falling from the sky. He winced, spit out a steady stream of curse words, then exited the much-unused area of cooking

The living room was cluttered beyond belief, the stained carpet revealing indolence of whoever was supposed to be keeping the house in order. The television seemed to become increasingly louder for every laugh that tore itself from the dark head of hair that called himself Goten and the purple blob named Trunks.

Stupid...house...getting more and more crowded every day...

Vegeta tromp-tromped bravely onwards, towards the certain doom Bulma probably had in store for him.

Krillin ran into the Saiya-jin before he got a step further. The Z-senshi grinned, bald head, shorts, casual clothing and all.

"Hey, Vegeta. Your door was unlocked," he stated matter-of-factly. "Y'seen Bulma around? Master Roshi broke his TV set, and he's too cheap to call a mechanic to—"

Vegeta's thoughts trailed off mid-sentence.

Hmm. Normally, the baka human would be grovelling at this point. I must be losing my edge.

Ignoring Krillin, he stepped gingerly over the brats, and found himself wondering how in hell the place had managed to turn itself from a home into a zoo over time. His mood didn't improve any when he came face-to-face with non other than Gohan, books stacked sky-high, studying in the corridor to the bedroom. A snarl tore itself from Vegeta's throat.

"Kakarot's spawn," he mumbled. "What are you doing here?"

Gohan flashed the trademark grin one could attain only through inheritance. "Studying," he replied nervously. "Mom sent me over here with Goten. Just to make sure he doesn't get into trouble…you know…after what happened last week."

A lot of things happened last week, Vegeta thought wanly before moving on and running into non other than the senior of the infamous father-son pair: Son Goku, who had the nerve to come clad in what had to be the loudest shirt ever created, and jeans that seemed more faded and torn than they were useful. The spiky hair stood, defying the Saiya-jin prince's own proud mop.

The one that Bulma constantly nagged him to 'do something about.'

"Hi Vegeta!" Goku chortled, displaying the Son smile. "Hey, you're never gonna believe what happened!"

Must…not…kill…killing…not…allowed…

"…and so Chi-Chi said she'd take care of Piccolo herself if Gohan didn't…"

How much does the baka talk?

"…and because Goten and Trunks pulled that off…"

Somebody shut him up.

"…but Master Roshi didn't want…"

Argh…

"…so Piccolo drank the soda thinking it was water…"

Must…not…kill…

"…man! I'd never seen Master Roshi laugh so hard…"

"Kakarot! What are you trying to say?"

Goku blinked. "That I'm here to pick up Goten."

"Baka!" Vegeta snapped. "Next time just say it!"

"VEGETA! Get over here."

Vegeta snarled. "Go...AWAY! Can't you see I'm busy?"

Bulma appeared almost instantly at the statement, hair still damp from the shower, wearing shorts, and...could it be? His shirt. Her features, previously set into a snarl softened into a sickeningly sweet grin.

Oh Kami, no. Not the couch, not the couch, please not the couch...

"Vegeta, do you know where you'll be sleeping for the next few days?" she asked lackadaisically. Vegeta's expression switched from annoyed to downright frustrated. "The couch, Mr. I-Rule-the-Universe. I've been wanting to talk to you about what happened last week for a long time now.. It's not good for Trunks and Goten, you encouraging shameless behavior like that. Oh, and the Gravity Room's out of repair for now. That last escapade of yours nearly tore the damn ting to shreds."

The grind of everyday life finally toppled one of the Toughest Men in the Cosmos. Vegeta nearly lost his weak grip on rage, and, turning, he filtered his anger into each step towards the door, the setting sun, and release from the captivity of a life he found all too restraining at times.

***

Goten giggled at the feeling of his father's spiky hair just beneath his chin. From the back seat of the Son car, Gohan shifted slightly, eyes trained on the night sky, feelings trained on his sensei's ki, thoughts trained on his father.

"Jeez, Dad. We could've flown home, you know."

"I know," Goku replied quietly, prying Goten from around his neck and forcing him into the seat beside him, muttering something about safety.

That's odd, Gohan mused. He seems so withdrawn.

Gohan leaned forwards, groping for the front seat and wrapping both his arms around his father's neck. The gesture was reminiscent of a being who had once been a young boy content to do nothing but worship his sire. In the darkness, Goku smiled.

He's…no…it can't be!

"We took this route before," Goku mused, "eight years ago, when we went camping."

Gohan smirked, his suspicions confirmed.

He's getting all broody and nostalgic. Next he's going to start talking about how much he missed it when I was little.

But there was something behind the nostalgia that Gohan managed to sense. Something deeper than a parent longing for the summer of their child's years.

"Vegeta getting ultra annoying or something?" Gohan asked mildly. "What'd you guys talk about today? Or...sorry, yesterday."

"The usual," Goku replied, tone casual. Gohan rolled his eyes.

"You mean all that stuff about how 'a true Saiya-jin does this' and a 'true Saiya-jin does that?'"

Goku shook his head. "Not just that," he replied. "He talks about…other things."

Gohan felt vulnerable all of a sudden, as though he were the father, instructing his child in social graces. "Like what?"

"He's been talking about his father…a lot. It's—" Goku shot a cautious glance at Goten, who had fallen asleep in his seat. His voice lowered. "The blood moon is rising. You…" Goku groped for the words. "…I've told you about that before."

Gohan nodded. It was only when Vegeta had arrived and revealed what true Saiya-jin nature was, that Goku had been able to pinpoint the reason as to why sex drive—his in particular—skyrocketed at a certain points of the month.

"Normally," Goku continued, and Gohan realized he was struggling. "Normally, a Saiya-jin father prepares his offspring for this." He laughed. "It's funny, isn't it? I never…"

Gohan bit his lip, something burning in the back of his mind. What was wrong with his normally happy-go-lucky dad, the carefree, reckless adventurer?

He's never mentioned anything about his own father.

Gohan continued to ruminate on the events that had unfolded, musing till they reached home and Chi-Chi accepted all three with open arms.

Goku was the last to enter, and watched as Goten and Gohan retired to their shared room. He smirked. From what he'd been told, Gohan had had major problems getting over the fact that his sanctuary was no longer entirely his own. The thought, for some reason, had amused him to no end.

Chi-Chi studied her husband out of the corner of her eye, observing as he flopped lifelessly onto the cushions of their couch. She joined him, running a soothing hand through his rebellious brush of hair. The fight, for the moment, was vanished from the obsidian eyes, and the feel of her warmth was comforting. Soft fabric cushioned even softer skin, and black hair had fallen from its severe bun.

"Goku-kun? What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he replied ineffectively. Chi-Chi's gaze narrowed.

"Something's wrong."

Goku sighed and leaned into her touch. "Yeah. I know. I just don't know what."

"Don't worry about it," she replied easily, leaning forwards, brushing accustomed lips against his. Something sparked, something lighted from deep within.

The day's dust was washed away; hands, groping, struggling for more. The fastenings of weariness came undone; one body, melding with another. The insecurities fell back; banished by the familiarity of an old and beloved friend.

The only witness to their actions was the clock, ticking away on the mantelpiece, the surrounding night, and the faint disturbance the Saiya-jin felt somewhere in the back of his head.

Something was coming.

***

Piccolo allowed his eyes to open just a sliver when he sensed Vegeta's ki, the Saiya-jin prince landing directly behind him. The net of stars laced together in the night sky gave a poor light, and Vegeta's voice rent the night air with no trace of mercy.

"You! Namek!"

A growl built itself somewhere in the back recesses of the Demon Lord's throat. He shifted slightly, too comfortable where he sat to rise, hoping that maybe, just maybe, if he ignored his old nemesis for long enough, the problem would vanish.

Vegeta persisted.

"You feel it, too."

Piccolo's response was redolent of a rock; nothing could be heard but the sound of his breathing. Vegeta's eyes narrowed.

"Don't think I don't know. You do feel it; you can sense ki just as well as I can."

"What do you want, Vegeta?" the Namekian warrior's tone was expressionless. "Is it that you, too, see that this is a wildly different form of energy, and want proof that you haven't gone insane?" he rumbled.

Vegeta laughed, and the sound caused Piccolo's brow to raise ever so slightly. There were times when he seriously doubted the sobriety of the Saiya-jin. And times when he doubted his own sobriety for thinking...for thinking that...lunacy...

Lunacy…

Looked good on Vegeta.

Piccolo's eyes narrowed as they were hit by the light of the half-moon, revealing itself from behind patches of cloud, summarizing the prince's sleek form better than words ever could. Muscles, built of years of bitterness. A balanced stance, created from ages of discipline.

What lay behind the mask, contemplation inquired, for everybody wears one. Some choose only to don mere trinkets here and there, others throw up walls so thick, it would take eons to un-build them.

What lay behind the mask?

The bout of silence would have extended into forever had the energy wave not hit. The startled Namek's head snapped upwards, and he glanced untrustingly into the darkness. Vegeta shot him a sideways glance, and their eyes locked, speaking the words they dared not say aloud.

Something was coming.