August 12, 2002: I'm currently in the process of rewriting/reposting/reformatting/reviving this story. If you've read this before I suggest giving up on the endeavor entirely. It's going to be chaos around here for a while. I'm combining some chapters and splitting others up and still probably deleting others. I doubt you'd be able to pick up where you left off so easy, and for that I apologize, but this really must be done. I had given up on this story (as evident in the lack of updates in over six months) but decided to give it one more go. So the next week or so will probably be spent reworking all that's been written, and then after that (hopefully) we'll begin to see some new stuff. Thanks for your patience. ~ Jane

Prologue: (Version 2.0)

Bulma gasped as two muscular arms snaked around her waist from behind and she felt a head burrow into the crook of her shoulder. Relaxing only marginally after recognizing the touch of her sometimes-husband, she cursed his saiyan stealth under her breath.

"Remind me to buy you a bell. You're going to give me a heart attack one of these days if you keep-"

Vegeta cut off her familiar complaint by growling low in his throat before turning her in his arms to face him. Her blue eyes widened as she caught sight of his dark gaze and all thoughts of the dinner she had been preparing flew out of her head. He didn't waste time claiming her lips and letting his hands re-familiarize her curves.

She knew she shouldn't let him get away with it.

She knew she should be yelling at him for disappearing for so long, for not telling her he was leaving or where he was going.

She knew she should be angry at him.

She knew she should insist on getting answers from him this time.

She knew she should make sure there would never be a next time.

She knew whatever she did, she couldn't let him get away with it.

But knowing and feeling were two separate things, and what she felt was that it had been far too long since he held her in his arms and made her feel like a woman. What she felt was that no matter how much it hurt her every time he left, she loved him too much to not open her arms to him when he returned. She would probably never be able to understand him. She knew she'd never be able to control him. But she could love him, and that had to be enough.

So forgetting all the things she knew, she let herself enjoy the rare moment.

"Ma! The foods burning!"

Her son's voice broke through the moment and she pulled away from his father. Taking a deep breath, and stepping far enough away from Vegeta to be able to regain all her faculties, it took her a moment before Trunks words sunk in. Flying into action, she put out the fire and tried unsuccessfully to salvage any of the food, eventually throwing it in the trash. Occupied with the food, she missed the subtle exchange taking place between the two men in her life.

Vegeta regarded his offspring with a scrutinizing gaze. He folded his arms and leaned against the counter as he tried to determine what exactly the dark glint in the young boys eyes meant. Obviously he had inherited some of his father's darker nature, but why take satisfaction out of pulling his parents apart? Looking back, it almost seemed like the boy had been purposefully sabotaging the couples rare moments alone the past year. The only question was what his motive was.

The boy for his part, regarded his father with an equal intensity. Despite being the first time he had seen him in weeks, he had nothing to say to the man that spawned him.


"Trunks," Bulma let out a defeated sigh as she pulled the two from their thoughts, "why don't you call over and see if you can spend the night with Goten. I don't have the energy to start all over with dinner."

"Cool!" He raced upstairs to grab some stuff before hugging his mother. "Goten just learned a new technique he's going to show me!" he told her with childlike glee. It only lasted a minute though, to her disappointment, before his saiyan nature reappeared with a familiar smirk, "of course a weakling like him needs whatever advantage he can get. I promise not to hurt him...too much." he said in lieu of good bye to his father. His smile dimmed slightly at the sight of his parents so close, remembering his objective before he was distracted. Vegita nodded his head in response.

"Well, get on with you. Don't worry," he added, "I'll make sure to take good care of your mother." This time Bulma caught the pointed look directed at Trunks as Vegita wrapped an arm around her waist. She rolled her eyes at the two of them, scared once more at how similar they were. She couldn't blame Trunks for his competitive nature, after all, looking at his parents it must have been genetic, but still, did they have to turn everything into some immature pissing contest? Nothing was safe, from how much they could eat, to training, to even competing for her attention. She supposed boys would be boys. With a scowl, her son disappeared and Bulma tugged Vegita's hand as she led him to the bedroom. As frustrating as they could be, she couldn't imagine her life without them.