Okay, as you can tell from the title of the chapter, several years have passed. This is the very last of the part I had pre-written. And, to my intense disgust, I still have writer's block on this story.

Goku wolfed down the sandwiches Bulma had ready for him. "Thanks, Bulma! I was hungry!"

"You're never not hungry, Goku," the woman laughed.

"I know," he admitted without a trace of shame. "It's just the way I am, I guess. Hey, do you think Trunks will spar with me later?"

"He's off at college, Goku, you know that."

"That's right, I forgot. Hi, Bra!"

"Goku." The young girl's voice was cooler than usual, and the appraising look she gave him was totally unlike her.

"What do you want for your birthday? It's…" Goku blinked, frowned, "next week, right?"

"You're invited to the party, you know." Said as if she couldn't care less if he came.

Goku blinked again, surprised. "Ah…. Did I do something to make you mad?"

"Of course not, Goku," Bulma broke in, bestowing a quelling look on her daughter. "She's just at that difficult stage."

Bra hmphed, and flounced out of the room. But the look she threw at Goku from the shadows made him squirm uncomfortably. "The difficult stage? Oh, a teenager." He frowned, then grinned. "I guess it would be different with girls!"

"No, not really. Mood swings and yelling and hating the world because they're not in control," Bulma laughed. "And she doesn't want anything for her birthday. Not even the party, so don't you worry about it."

"Why did I come by?" Goku tapped his forehead, then nibbled on a fingernail. "I know it was important…"

"Goku?" Bulma looked at him in some astonishment. "Did you have news about Goten?"

A fission of something tingled down his spine. After all this time, she still wondered? Ah well, but she was his friend, and his son was still missing. "Nothing. Not one…" He spread his arms out, then dropped them. "Not one trace," he finished sadly. But it was the look Bra had given him that occupied his mind, not the son he hadn't seen - or felt - for eight years. Why did it seem… he shook his head.

"I'm sorry." Goku looked up at her when she rested her hand over his own. The concern in the blue eyes wasn't faked. The fission tingled again as he wondered why he would think it could be. "I wish I knew how to help."

"Chi-chi…" Again, his voice trailed to nothing. Chi-chi had run the gamut from outrage over her son's relationship with Vegeta, to total despair when he went missing and couldn't be found. She'd died of heartbreak the year before. "Chi-chi always thought that if she could just find a way to let him know she was sorry, he'd come home. He doesn't even know his mother… is… is gone."

The comforting hand went from his hand to his shoulder, and Bulma held him as he cried.

A single blue forget-me-not rested against the headstone. Trunks looked at it, confused. No one ever visited his father's grave. Only him. So, who could have left the flower? Certainly not his mother or his sister. Goku couldn't abide cemeteries, and Gohan still hated his father - even after so many years. The flower wasn't wilted or faded, which meant whoever had left it hadn't been gone all that long. He looked around, but saw no one except a woman and child kneeling by another grave nearby.

He sat down, cross-legged, next to the grave. After a moment, he traced the symbol of the House of Vegeta. Kakarot had done that. Two weeks after they'd found, and lost, Goten, he'd come here. He'd regarded the stone for only a moment, then carved the symbol firmly into the rock. He, and his counterpart, never returned.

Slowly, he laid down the dandelions he'd brought with him. Many would think it an odd choice, but Trunks knew his father had delighted in the stubborn weed's persistence at growing and thriving where it wasn't wanted, comparing the resilient weed to his lost race. Later, Trunks had learned that the name meant something along the lines of "flower of the king," another thing that had appealed to the kingdom-less prince.

A bunch of dandelions and a forget-me-not. Strange flowers to find on a prince's grave, an odd bouquet. But, who had left the other flower. Again, he looked around the cemetery; again, no one except the woman and child. They were leaving. Perhaps they had seen? He rose, and walked toward them.

"Excuse me?" he said, tapping her shoulder.

The woman stiffened, turned slowly, putting the child behind her skirts. Trunks had a glimpse of sparkling black eyes and an almost familiar face. "Excuse me, I'm sorry. I was visiting my father's grave, and found a flower there. I… I'm the only one who ever visits, so I was wondering if you saw who the other was?"

She kept her face lowered, and her voice, when she finally spoke, was husky with the tears he could see dripping off her chin. "I'm afraid I can't help you."

"I'm really sorry I bothered you, ma'am. I… uh…" What do you say to a crying woman you stopped in a graveyard? "Can I help get you a ride home?"

"No. We live close by. Thank you." She turned abruptly, leaving at such a rapid walk she seemed to be fleeing from him. Trunks stared after her, unsure of what he had done to provoke that kind of a reaction. Not sure why, he followed them. Her voice seemed somehow familiar.

The child was pulling her toward an ice-cream shop, but paused. "Do you have money for ice-cream, Mama?"

A purse was opened, the contents carefully checked. "One single scoop, child." Money dropped into a small palm. Trunks was close enough to hear them easily, and could now see both clearly. His heart lurched.

"Thank you, Mama!" The boy made a beeline for the line at the ice-cream store, his mother sinking wearily down on a nearby park bench.

"What's my brother's name?" Startled black eyes met blue ones. "Goten? What's his name?"

The woman shrank into the bench, terror etching itself into her face. "Who are you? Why are you bothering me?"

Trunks stared down at the terrified woman trying to press herself through the bench. Was he wrong? "You look a great deal like my friend, Goten, who disappeared eight years ago after an affair with my father. My brother would be the same age as your son. We all thought the trauma of the birth might have had something to do with the disappearance." He paused. "My name is Trunks Briefs. I'm the vice-president of Capsule Corporation."

She hadn't relaxed at all, he noticed. If anything, she looked even more scared. "My name is Tengo Sheen. I don't know anyone named Goten! Please, go away!"

His mother was crying. His mother never cried. He peeked into the bedroom, watched as their few possessions - except her clothes - were put into a capsule. His mother proceeded to do the same in the kitchen, bathroom, the front room. "Mama?"

"We have to leave. We have to leave now." His mother scooped up the capsules, placing them carefully into the spaces in the case, then tucking it firmly into the hidden pocket of the skirt.

"But why? Why do we have to move again? I like it here." His whole life had been moving, up until three years ago. That's when they had settled here, when his Mama had gotten the cleaning job at Capsule Corp. He remembered how terrified his mama had been when she applied, and she'd barely been able to talk the day she'd been interviewed. Ever so slowly, she'd lost the constant terror that had plagued her. Now, it was back in force. But, nothing different had happened, except… "Mama, who was that man?"

"He is the vice-president of the place I work. It is not good for him to know me." Goten sighed, looking down at his son. This disguise had worked better than he'd hoped. And the job had allowed him to do all the snooping into places other employees couldn't go. The whole place had to be cleaned, after all. He'd found nothing, nothing that connected Bulma with the torture Vegeta had endured so many years ago. But then, it had been years ago. And then today…

He shuddered, remembering with sick horror what he'd found just that morning. Even so, he'd visited the grave - the empty grave - right after his shift, leaving the same flower he'd left on this day for the last eight years. He hadn't planned on Trunks being there, recognizing him! How could he not know why Goten had fled? How could he not know about his father? And how to explain all that to the small boy looking up at him so sorrowfully. His son didn't even know his mother was a male! But, he had better explain.

"Vegeta…" he paused, still unable to say the name without pain, "your father, was the prince of an alien race known as Saiyans."

"What?"

Goten smiled at the shock on the child's face. "I haven't spoken of this for many years. It wasn't safe then, and it isn't safe now. My father is a low-level Saiyan warrior, Kakarot. He goes by a different name now, though. His memory was lost when his ship crashed here, and he was raised by the man who found him. He grew up as an Earthling, got married, had kids. I have an older brother.

"Vegeta sent my uncle Raditz to find my father. His planet had been destroyed by an evil, evil creature, and my father was one of only four Saiyans left alive. My father refused to have anything to do with Raditz, repudiated his race. Raditz kidnapped my brother to get my father to do what he wanted.

"Father fought him instead. They both died." Goten paused, waiting to see if Veten had questions.

"Are you telling me the truth?" Eyes wide, Veten stared at his mother. He took one breath, then said, "No, of course you are. You never lied to me."

"No. I've omitted things, but never lied. The story gets more complicated." Goten settled himself to the floor. "There are things called dragonballs that summon a dragon who will grant wishes. The dragon was summoned to revive my father when Vegeta and Nappa, the other surviving Saiyan, arrived. Before he was able to return, many of his friends were killed.

"Vegeta killed Nappa for failing to kill my father. That, apparently, was the way of Saiyans. Those who failed, died. My father beat Vegeta, but very nearly lost his own life. He spared Vegeta, and your father left for wherever he came from. Any questions?"

Veten shook his head. He wasn't quite sure if he believed all this, it seemed too impossible. Goten nodded, and continued. "My brother went to Namek to gather the dragonballs there. They were going to wish back the others who had been killed when Vegeta came. But, the creature that destroyed Vegeta's world was there, and so was Vegeta. He wound up in an uneasy alliance with my brother, and my father when he got there. They got the dragonballs, and my brother got his wishes. There was a big mess. They somehow evacuated the entire planet, and my father fought with Frieza. Frieza destroyed that planet, but my father beat him.

"Vegeta came here with the other evacuees. He lived at Capsule Corp., and the uneasy alliance with my father became an uneasy friendship. A very uneasy one. They worked together to keep the planet safe, but Vegeta considered my father his greatest rival."

"Why?"

"My father was stronger than he was." Goten shrugged. "Vegeta was the Prince of the Saiyans, an Elite. My father was nothing but a common low-class warrior. He shouldn't have been stronger, but he was. And Vegeta was determined to be the stronger of the two. He never was. He'd reach father's level only to find that my father had surpassed him again. And not until he admitted it did they truly become something like friends."

Another unhappy sigh. "Vegeta's son was my best friend. We did everything together, it seemed. When the time came for his change, I was there." Now here was something tricky to explain.

"What change?"

"A Saiyan goes through a change when he or she reaches sexual maturity. Basically, they're in rut for about a week." Okay, maybe not so tricky. The next part however… "And a Saiyan, whether male or female, can get pregnant."

Blink. Blink, blink. "What?"

"A Saiyan," Goten began, only to have his son wave his hands frantically.

"I got it, I got it!"

Goten nodded. "I, however, wasn't sexually mature for that little incident."

"Ooookaaayyy…" Not exactly disbelieving, but definitely puzzled.

"Right after that happened, my father brought Vegeta home with him. He's gone missing awhile before, Dad had gone hunting for him. He'd been captured, tortured. He'd healed some, but something set him off at his home, and he very nearly destroyed it. My dad had a calming influence on him, so he brought him to our house.

"Trunks wouldn't talk to me after his change. He was - is - a very straight laced person. Anything like that… well, he just didn't want to see me. And I… well, I was missing him. And his father needed me. I started taking care of Vegeta." The soft little sigh told Veten more than any words his mother could say.

"You fell in love with him."

"I did." Goten looked out the tiny window the tiny apartment boasted. Grimy brick walls met his gaze. "He was there for two years before I learned about the change. Which, of course, made the whole incident with my best friend make sense. It took weeks afterwards for Trunks to talk to me, much less invite me over for games and sparring like we'd always done."

"You sparred?" Veten's eyes widened in surprise yet again. His mother ran from everything!

"I was a trained fighter, Veten. Like my brother and Trunks, I'd helped guard this planet." Goten leaned back a bit. "I know that seems like a total opposite of me now. I did that deliberately." He opened the capsule case, taking out all the capsules slowly as he continued, "Vegeta said something that made me upset. Shortly afterward, he went back to his home. I was still visiting Trunks, and on one of those visits…." There were so many ways to describe what had happened. "I didn't know it, but my change was starting. And I was treating Vegeta exactly as I had before he said that awful thing. He was in terrible shape. He was having nightmares about the torture he'd been through, they'd wake him up. Since he couldn't sleep, he trained himself until he passed out from exhaustion. To top it off, he wasn't eating or drinking much."

Veten nodded. His mother had made sure, in spite of their incessant moving, that he was well-educated. "I see."

"I got sick. It's part of the change. My dad, by then he'd been told about it, so he took me to Trunks' house, because he'd agreed to be my partner for the change. Vegeta was home, Trunks wasn't. And by the end of the week, I was pregnant.

"The day you were born, Vegeta gave me this." The paper he carefully unfolded had been much handled, and was in danger of falling apart. Veten took it, read it, and handed it back.

"Bad news."

"Beyond bad. I did what he said, I ran. I've contacted my family once since then. You were about a year old." He sighed. "I told them, showed my father the message. He told my brother, I thought they told Trunks. But, I had to obey your father, and I knew why he told me not to trust my father."

"But, isn't Kakarot your father?"

"Kakarot is my father's Saiyan side, the side that was practically erased in the wreck. My father got those memories back not long before you were born. My father, Goku, is more of a… ah," How could one describe Goku? "He's a fantastic warrior with a heart of gold, completely innocent, and totally trusting. He'd never believe this in a second, even though he knew what Vegeta had been through, and even though he knew Vegeta had been murdered. And he is the one, the personality, more often in control of the body. He'd reverted to Goku by the time I'd finished warning Kakarot."

Horribly confusing, Veten decided. "That still doesn't explain why we have to move."

Goten finished fitting the last capsule, and tucked the case back into its hiding place. "Because of two things. First, Trunks saw me today. He recognized me, in spite of my disguise. I grew my hair out while I hid us, started wearing these long skirted dresses. I thought that would be the best way to hide, right out in the open. I was right, too. It worked for three years, and I had time to see if there was any evidence left to prove what Vegeta feared. I found that this morning."

The shudder that ripped through his mother startled Veten with its intensity. He could see her shaking, the white-knuckled fists as she fought to control herself. "I don't understand, Mama."

"I found your father, Veten. I found Vegeta." He couldn't say any more, wide eyes staring sightlessly as he relived that horrid episode. One of the highest security labs, and he'd been told to clean it up because the normal guy had called in sick, and his record as Tengo was spotless. Starting, just like normal, dumping the trash, wiping down the desks before starting on the floor. Slipping on his freshly mopped floor, falling heavily against the bookcase - which swung open.

He had seen the figure in the tube, gone to look. Neatly dissected, each part laid out and labeled. The sudden shock as he recognized the upswept hair, the shape of the ruined face. How she could have preserved his body so well, Goten didn't know. He hadn't wanted to know. He went through the files in the room, too dazed to truly understand what he read, not dazed enough to not understand it. He'd broken the tube, piled the folders inside, the books, everything that would burn. Disabled the sprinkler system. Started the fire, stayed long enough to destroy the computers. And then, tears streaming, he'd run. Run as fast as he could, gotten his son, the flower, and gone to the cemetery.

"Mama?"

Goten pulled the capsule case back out, opened it. He selected one capsule, held it for a long moment, then popped it. He stripped the dress off, pulling on the clothes he'd worn the day he'd escaped CC the first time. The scissors made short work of the long locks he'd grown to be proud of, and spikes took their place. A brief burst of energy, and the locks were burned to nothing. "And now, Veten, you know the biggest secret of all."

His son blinked. "Mama? You're a guy? But…" and he remembered. "Oh. Oh! That's what you meant by hiding in the open!"

"Yes. Who would think anything of a woman with her child? But a man - a very young one with a baby? That's grounds for suspicion, apparently." He looked around, then proceeded to make it look as if a struggle took place. Another short blast of energy blasted out the window, enlarging the opening. He grabbed his son, and followed the blast.

Trunks looked around the apartment. Who was this Tengo Sheen? He'd met her exactly once, then discovered that she had broken into a high security lab, destroying it and the project underway. He was still trying to figure out what the project had been, his mother had been oddly reticent about telling him. But, her apartment had been trashed, one wall blown out. Had she not delivered her information on time?

However, it was the message on the wall that bothered him - and the file folder. "Don't you know what your mother did?" was written in red lipstick at the back of the closet. Her clothes had been there, the police had found the message during the search to see if any of the missing files from the project had been there. The file folder, on the floor beneath, had been labeled Vegeta. The two together, and her eerie resemblance to Goten, brought back the boy's disappearance, and the reason Kakarot had said he'd fled.

But, nothing had happened! No one had ever gone after him, or Goku, or Gohan. Pan and Bra had never been told, and, if Vegeta had been right, had never been in danger anyway. He was the Saiyan prince's oldest son, Goku the only surviving full-blood Saiyan. If his father had been right, wouldn't they have been the two most likely targets?

He sighed. As it was, Goku might wind up his step-father. Bulma certainly seemed to be showing more of that type of interest in him than any other, and certainly more of it than ever before. His father would undoubtedly burst from his grave if that happened.

A blue forget-me-not.

The woman's resemblance to Goten, her fear of him, her son's age.

The message and the folder.

The very brief bits of energy he thought he'd felt.

It came together suddenly. Tengo. Ten-go. Goten. The project he'd destroyed must have had something to do with his father - but what? What could have set him running again? Maybe a visit to the lab…

…which, naturally, was a wreck. He picked his way carefully through the debris, looking for anything that might possibly give him a clue. Anything at all. He sniffled. Finding Goten only to lose him… what the hell was that smell???? He sniffed again. Roasted meat? "What? Did someone get caught in the blaze?" he murmured, moving toward the place the smell seemed concentrated. It wasn't often that he bothered with his Saiyan side these days… there wasn't a whole lot of call for world-saving. And the pollution that had slowly worsened in the city was even more of a reason to try not to smell anything. Yet, this smelled more roasted than burned… how very odd.

He moved aside a burned board, possibly from one of the bookcases that had been piled on the bonfire Goten had built. Something beneath - yes, the smell came from under that. He moved it, brushed ash away. And staggered back. "Kami… no… no. This can't be!"

I FOUND OUT WHAT SHE DID. MEET ME AT OUR HIDEOUT.

Goten examined the billboard again. He'd seen several of these since the fire, even in the smallest towns they'd visited. They all said more or less the same thing. The hideout… he hadn't been there in years. Perhaps he should go. But he wouldn't put Veten at risk. Mr. Popo and Dende might take care of him while Goten went on to the hideout. He didn't think there would be any danger with that.

"Veten? We're going on a little trip. Here, you ride piggyback, and hang on tight." Goten glanced around, no one on the old road. He was in the air moments later.

Some time later, Veten finally got used enough to flying to try talking. "Mama? I mean, Dad…" Veten's voice trailed off, he was still having trouble with that little bit. "Ah, can I fly?"

"You should be able to. I'll teach you when I come back."

"Where are you going?"

"I'm going to leave you with Dende and Mr. Popo for a few days. That message on the billboard was for me. Trunks and I, when we were kids, we had a hideout where no one could find us. Not even my dad, and he tried more than once. I'm going to see what he has to say."

"And if it's a trap?" Veten shifted slightly, the wind was whipping his hair uncomfortably into his eyes again.

"I… I'm not sure. If it's a trap, I may very well not make it back." Goten stopped, hovering above Kami's Lookout. "If not, Dende and Mr. Popo will take care of you. Them, I trust. Dende has kept us a secret for the last eight years. He's known where we were."