This is my first DBZ fic, so be honest - but try not to slaughter me. Anyway, I love the show, and I've always had a particular fascination with Vegeta. It really annoyed me when they made Bra so much like her mum . . . I always wondered what Vegeta's daughter would be like, so I made one up. As you do. So I hope you enjoy. . . I don't own Dragonball Z and I apologize now for any little factoids I may have wrong (ages etc).

Enjoy the fic, folks.

Raevyan

She didn't know what it was about night.

She could never pinpoint what exactly it was about the surrounding darkness of the evening that seemed to her so crushing. The once familiar corners and friendly features of her bedroom were made uncomfortably twisted in the lack of luminosity. . . it was as if the mist of evening twilight they made a gruesome transformation into the darkest regions of her very soul, and with every glance they mocked and looked down on her. . .

Or maybe she was just completely crazy.

She had always been like this. Even though she was only 10, Raevyan Breifs had less reason than almost every other living beings on earth, being one of the strongest among them, to be afraid of things that go bump in the night, or the enclosed darkness of her own closet or the things that lurked in it in a child's mind. However, no matter how strong the knowledge that she could take on any strange beastie that decided to crawl out from under her bed, the purely natural darkness of the planet was enough to make her skin crawl.

She hated it for the things it did to her once trustworthy sanctuary, and for the fact that it always seemed to find a way to increase the crushing loneliness she felt every waking second. . .

Yes, even though she was only 10 years old, Raevyan briefs, the youngest daughter of technical headstrong genus Bulma and the incredibly powerful Saiyan prince, Vegeta, was an extremely complex creature. She didn't know if the things she felt were what went through every young girl's mind, and she highly doubted it. Being gifted with her mother's intelligence as well as her father's Saiyan ancestry, she was a truly unique young person and she knew it. However, she took very little pride in this fact as others in her position might have. No, she instead focused on the more pessimistic side of this gift – or curse – and often felt broken hearted in the knowledge that there was absolutely no one in the entire universe like her.

Sure, her older sister Bra was from the same gene pool and it stood to reason she could feel the same as her. . . but Bra was so very different to her in many ways that Raevyan doubted her mind worked the same as hers. Their differences went far beyond that of looks – even though the difference in that department was substantial. They hardly looked related at all.

Where Bra simply looked like a younger version of their mother, almost completely identical to Bulma in every way, and her strength was above human average at best. . . Raevyan was the only Breifs child who truly took after their father. She had the wild jet black hair of a Saiyan which hung low at her shoulders, and her eyes were her father's – jet black orbs filled with mystery and secrets that it seemed normal mortals could never comprehend. She had the small lithe body of a gymnast, which usually fooled opponents into thinking she had no real upper body strength.

Well, those poor unfortunates were in for quite a shock. When she was born, Vegeta had sensed one of the most powerful ki's he had ever felt in a newborn and she had proved her strength well worthy of such admiration from the proud Saiyan prince since that fateful day. She had become the youngest super Saiyan at age 6 – the record holder before her had been Goten at age 9 – and had ascended it by her 9th birthday. She loved training. She loved the feeling of strength and control which rippled through her entire body after she reached a new level of power. She was ascending all the time, her strength growing. Her ambitions were no lower than becoming the single strongest warrior in the universe. She thought this seemed an obvious objective. After all, she had the strength, thanks to the powerful Saiyan genes of her father, and therefore stood a good a chance as any to hold this name.

Trunks had once pointed out to her that in order for this title to be completely justified she would have to spend many years in other galaxies fighting with their most powerful beings. Contrary to scaring her out of her dream, this simply excited her more . . . much to the immense pride of Vegeta.

Truthfully, Raevyan never understood when she looked at Bra and Trunks, who also had this strength in their blood, that their ambitions in life could be anything other than that for which she thirsted. . . ultimate power.

In this way, she was more like her father than she knew.

Ah, how she loved her dad. For some reason when she was with him her loneliness subsided. Why, she could never quite pinpoint. But there was no doubt she was at her happiest training with him – which was almost all they did. There was only one other person in the entire world who had a similar effect. . . and that was her older brother.

They had had a strong bond from the moment she muttered her first word: 'brova'. She had always felt better when he was close. She didn't love him anymore than she did her dad but the two relationships were so very different.

With Vegeta, the love as there, but it was never spoken of. They spoke little, but when they did it as usually about training or strength. Raevyan didn't really mind this because she loved to hear her dad's thoughts on power. He spoke little in public, and when he did it was in short, monosyllabic sentences. However, his whole manner changed when he spoke of fighting, of the pure power of ones own energy. He became excited, a spark appeared in his eye, and yes his voice was even filled with emotion. Although they didn't speak of actual feelings beyond these ones, he never failed to tell her how proud he was of her every time she reached a new height of power.

With Trunks, she was able to talk about the things she never could with her dad. Trunks seemed to understand her pretty well. She had learned that almost nothing felt better than the feeling she got in her heart when she realised that he understood the things she felt, and that she wasn't completely alone. However, he couldn't completely save her from this overwhelming loneliness in her heart, simply because she never spoke of it. It didn't matter. All she knew was that she had always taken comfort in his presence, ever since she was a very small chid . . . and tonight was no exception.

There were well over 70 rooms in the Capsule Corp., but she had asked as soon as she could that hers be next to Trunks'. She was restless as an infant and often found it hard to sleep. Bra had had the same problem. But where she would settle down after snuggling beside their mother, Raevyan wouldn't be soothed until she felt Trunks' soft yet powerful ki near her, and saw with her own eyes his lavender locks and blue eyes that were always gentle – even when he was dragged out his bed in the early hours of many days in order for her (and her parents) to get some sleep.

Things hadn't changed very much. Of course, she was older now and no longer cried if something unsettled her in the middle to the night. . . but she couldn't deny that she slept only when she felt her brother next door. Most nights were the same. His footsteps were heard at the bottom of the long hall at around 1 am as he slowly returned to his room after a hard day of being the Capsule Corp.'s new CEO. Her excellent hearing (inherited of course from her father, although it could be argued that Bulma's hearing was incredibly powerful when listening for certain demi-Saiyan's sneaking out at night, or taking an extra desert) allowed her to hear him open and close the door of his room, practically fall inside with exhaustion, spend a few more minutes getting out of work clothes and then the gentle creak of the mattress as he finally consented to give his body the 5 hours sleep he was so used to. Occasionally he would come in slightly earlier and she would hear the soft footsteps pacing his room and the rustling of papers, or the tapping of keypads on a laptop.

Tonight was difference though. She looked at her luminous beside clock: 2:37.

Where was he?

This thought was more in worry of her brother's safety than concern about her lack of sleep due to his absence. She had managed to get to sleep without him before – sometimes he had to go away on business and spend a couple of nights in another town or country. In times like these she had trained herself to think she was hearing those oh so familiar sounds of her beloved sibling. After 10 years she had them memorised easily. She heard the slow, tired march to the bedroom beside hers. . .the opening and closing of the door . . . the rustle of papers . . . taps of keyboard. . . creak of mattress strings. . .

It never failed to make her drift off.

She hoped it wouldn't come to this tonight, though. Especially since she knew he was not supposed to be anywhere for the company. It's possible he was sent somewhere last minute . . . but her mother would have told her. Bulma knew of her and Trunks' bond. She surely would have told if he was sent away, so where was he? Had he been hurt in some way? Had he went out across town and got in a terrible accident? What if - ?

The sweet sound of familiar footsteps at the end of the long hall reached her sensitive ears and she felt relief wash over her like a warm bath. But this bliss was short lived when she noticed another set of footsteps with his. She quickly reached out with her own energy to feel for a familiar presence . . . and felt none. He was with a complete stranger . . . she felt uneasy. Who would he bring back to his room at this time of . . . ah.

She let out a sign of realisation. So he had brought back a girl.

She frowned at the darkness. That wasn't like him at all. Trunks very rarely socialised with women, even though he could easily have his pick. He had inherited his good looks from his mother, but it was the fierce pride and strength held in his blue eyes that drew people to him, and this he got from Vegeta. It was a powerful combination. But despite these features, Trunks had always been happy to keep his head down and himself to himself when it came to the fairer sex. It was his best friend Goten who was the ladies man . . . he who was out with a different girl every week, very rarely stopping long enough to get to know any of them. Trunks just always seemed to have better things to do.

He did have a girlfriend once. Their relationship had lasted over a year before she had told him the stresses of being in a relationship with someone from a famous family was too much for her and she ended things between them. Since then, he had shied away from relationships, and Goten's attempts at blind double dates did nothing except aggravate him.

Hell, what with him being only a few years away from inheriting the most popular and successful corporation in the known world, he was always considered one of the most eligible bachelors in the entire country. Millions wanted him. But he had never cared. He always seemed happier alone. When she got older she often wondered if he was gay – it would certainly explain a lot. Coming out when you have a father like Vegeta probably wasn't the best for his health. . . Raevyan knew her dad had grown a lot over the years – but his pride was still as fierce as ever. She didn't think he would tolerate a gay person in the family – let alone his own son. Maybe that was trunk's problem. Maybe he was gay and ashamed. Afraid to come out. Maybe.

Therefore he would rather be alone than with a girl he could never love.

But if this was true, then why now was he bringing this strange girl into their house, into his room? For as the footsteps drew closer there were no doubts about their intentions. But she was surprised once again to find that the padding of feet stopped outside her own door. She was not facing that side of the wall, but the window where the light side of the moon was just visible above silver clouds. This light in the growing darkness did not in any way comfort her since the moon was something she had grown to fear. Since she had been born with the tail of a Saiyan, the sight of a full moon would cause her to go berserk, transform into an Ozaroo, and if not controlled could kill every living thing in her path until the sun rose. The thought made her shiver. Just the idea that she could hurt her brother or father made her want to weep. But she wasn't thinking about that right now.

No, with every fibre of her being she was trying to hear the words being said outside her door between Trunks and this girl.

"I just need to check on my little sis," she heard her brother explain in his gentle voice. "She sometimes waits up for me. . . I want make sure she's asleep."

"OK, Trunks, whatever you think is best."

She already didn't like this girl. Her voice was frail and simpering – filled with pathetic weakness that made her feel sick. However, as she heard the creak of her door opening she immediately lowered her currently rising ki energy low enough so it would seem she was sleeping and closed her eyes tight against the world.

She didn't need eyes; her ears and senses told her the scene as it unfolded. She heard and felt Trunks enter her room while the other one stood at the door. Trunks walked over to the bed and she felt the gentle prod of his ki checking whether she was awake or not. She was pretty good at masking her energy when she had to and he was fooled. She heard him sigh ever so softly and felt her loneliness fade once again as he reached out and stroked her small cheek. His cool hands felt good on her warm face, made too hot by lying awake in bed for many hours.

"Trunks? Are you ready now?"

Raevyan felt the anger building up in her soul once again, inflaming her ki energy. Trunks, who had turned to look at his companion in the doorway suddenly whipped his head back to his little sister. He was sure he had just felt that rise in her energy. But as he focused his own on hers, he found it in peace once again. Maybe he imagined it . . . or maybe she had experienced something in a dream, deep in that complicated mind of hers that caused her energy to spike. He really worried about Raevyan sometimes. He knew how troubled she was, how complex her little mind was. But now was not the time or place to be thinking of such things. . .

"Trunks?"

"Yeah." He whispered, taking his hand away from Raevyan's small face. "Yeah, I'm coming."

He swiftly walked away from the bed and out Raevyan's bedroom, leaving Raevyan alone once again . . . in the dark once again.

Well there it be, c'est fini. I was planning on leaving this as a one-shot, but if anyone wants I could probably be persauded to think up some more. My original plan was to have Raevyan go on the DBGT adventure with T/P/G but never really followed through with it. ANYhoo - this is the writer shutting up.