Chapter Two: A lonely capsule home

Vegeta didn't go back into his house, but instead sat on the front step, looking over the huge lawn that sloped down onto the beach, white sand blending with bright green grass. He watched waves crash onto the beach, heard the water rushing onto the sand over and over again, never giving up despite the futility of the exercise. The sea reminded Vegeta of himself. Doing the same thing every damn time, and only getting a few grains in return. Every time he had Kakarot over, his resolve failed him. He never quite had the guts to ask the Saiyan to stay with him for just one more day, instead of going back to that harpy that sank her claws into him all the time.

He didn't think Kakarot wanted to particularly spend all that much time with him. He seemed so much more attached to his human friends. After all, he'd never called Vegeta his best friend, just a friend. And maybe he was being unfair on the younger Saiyan, dragging him out on 'sparring trips', when they would spar, swim, fish, do all sorts of things, mostly having fun. But, as always, the phone would ring, Kakarot would feel guilty, apologise to Vegeta and fly back home. For some inexplicable reason, Kakarot was very attached to his wife, and Vegeta knew that he could never quite be above her in Kakarot's heart. Hell, he wasn't even higher than Yamcha or Tien or the Namek in Kakarot's affections.

He was just an arrogant prick that still had an attitude problem and a chip on each shoulder the size of Shenron. So, why did he keep trying with Kakarot? He asked himself this, as he watched the sun gilding the sea with paints of pink and gold. Vegeta shrugged, as he picked up a stone next to him, and flung it into the sea. He got up, and walked to the beach, hands shoved in his pockets, head down as he thought.

"There's just something about him…maybe its because I'm so sick of being lonely. Maybe its because he's the last of my kind. Or maybe its just because he's Kakarot. I'd give anything just to hear him say that he cares about me as much as he cares about Baldy. Hnn. Vain hope. Haven't I had enough of those?"

He bent down and picked up a shell, dusting the sand off and turning it over in his hands, looking at the colours. The greens faded into blues, like the colour of super Saiyan eyes. He put it in his pocket, and looked out over the sea, which was getting rougher as the tide came in, a breeze tugging at his hair. He hunched into his jacket, and started walking back up to his house, back to his lonely little life on an island more remote than the South Pole. The irony was not wasted on Vegeta. The island was as isolated as he was. He turned at his door, and gave one last glance at the sunset. Then he sighed, and went indoors, putting the seashell with the rest of his collection in the bowl by the door. What he was collecting for, he didn't know.

But it helped to pass the time.

 "And just where have you been, mister!?"

Chichi had her hands on her hips, foot tapping the floor. Goku rubbed the back of his neck, his disarming grin in place.

"Sorry, dear, but I was just with Vegeta, and –"

Chichi stamped her foot, cutting Goku off mid-sentence.

"That is the last time you will ever go anywhere with him! Do you hear me? He is a bad influence on you! And if you misbehave, Goten and Gohan misbehave too!"

Goku scratched his head, not quite following Chichi's rather warped logic. Goten and Gohan had moved out a while ago, and they were just fine.

"But, Chichi, he's not that bad!"

"Don't you argue with me. Goku! I know what's best for you!"

Then she relaxed, uncrossing her arms and smiling. Goku was slightly thrown by this change in masks.

"Now run along and wash up, supper's almost ready."  Goku grinned, then bounced upstairs, forgetting all about being banned from seeing Vegeta.

Once again, I'm lying in bed, looking up at the roof, arms behind my head as I wait for my brain to slow down enough so that I can get some sleep. While I wait, I make a mental list of things to do over the next few days. After today, I'm fairly sure that Chichi isn't going to allow Kakarot out for a very long time, and I'd better find something to occupy myself with.

Not that Kakarot wants to be with me anyway. He always seems so on edge when he's here, like I'm going to chuck an energy blast at his back if he isn't careful. And he seemed a little too relieved to go back home. Almost as though he only visited me as an obligation, because he felt sorry for the stranded Saiyan.

I turn onto my side, and look out the open window, the stars brighter than usual tonight. I wish there that was still a moon. At least I could enjoy the adrenaline rush that only unadulterated moonbeams can provide. I wonder where it had all gone wrong.  Trunks is too busy dating strings of girls and following in his mother's footsteps, as opposed to his father. Bra…I'm not very close to her. She was conceived because, to be painfully honest, I was feeling lonely, Bulma was game, and we were both tipsy. I find it hard to relate to the little girl, nine years old and already obsessed with teenage things. For that matter, I find it hard to relate to anyone.

In many ways, Bulma is my best friend. She's always supported me, always cared about me. And, in my own gruff way, I let her know that I appreciate it. Yes, we've had our disagreements in the past, but I just wasn't cut out to be a husband. Hell, I barely passed as a father. Maybe my past has a lot to do with it. I spent my formative years growing up with Frieza, instead of with my own parents. I'd never been hugged in my life until I met Bulma. That is, hugged with any sort of true affection. When I was a space soldier, I did bed the occasional female fighter, but nothing more than one night stands. I just don't know how to be anyone's friend. Bulma and I…we seem to connect on a different level, but we irritate each other very quickly when in proximity of each other for longer than two days

What about Kakarot? Yeah, what about him? He's the last of my kind, we've got that much in common. And we both love kicking and punching seventeen shades of shit out of each other, surely that counts for something? Obviously, it doesn't.

I sigh, as I pull the duvet over my head, enjoying the heat under the blanket, shutting my eyes. Maybe I'm just destined to be alone. Just my cross to bear. Nothing more, nothing less.

I might as well get used to it, after forty-odd years of being on my own.  Maybe I should find a hobby, take up extra lessons in different languages, or get a girlfriend. Something, dammit. Anything.

An- no, tis a buddy fic. No shonen-ai. Maybe if there is a sequel, but only if this story is successful enough to warrant one. But I'd have to introduce a new character, and I know how much everyone hates original characters…the sequel to this is on paper, I do it as a hobby, but I don't think its going to see light of day.

As for shout outs…I don't want to punish the three or four people that are reading this, but I just couldn't be bothered to do shout outs for all of three people. But since I want to thank those that have bothered to read it. I'm on the author alert list of twenty-eight people! How could I only have six reviewers! And why do I even bother?!!!!

Ozuma's girl: Thank you for being so incredibly loyal! Sorry, no shonen-ai. Maybe another time.

Gutterball: I avoid character bashing, but chichi just asks for it! By the way…have you done that story of yours justice and put it out on the net?

Clarobell: And here is your update! Wait til you see the next chapter.

I'll let you all in on a little secret…Vegeta is going to be in the spotlight next chappie…