A/N: I hope you enjoy this chapter! It is a bit confusing, and I apologize, but it will get better! Read and Review please!

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the original DBZ characters that run from the beginning of the Saiya-jin Saga to the end of the Kid Buu Saga. All of the chibis are mine because they are created by my mind and are not mentioned at all in DBZ.


Chapter One: The Next Generation
One week ago: Tuesday, 1700 hrs.

The squeal of children resounded throughout the west wing of the overly large dome. It wasn't often that they were chased by Mom (or Auntie), Uncle, and Grandpa. Rushing around the corner, the two children barely avoided hitting Grandpa's legs, which were two rather large pillars of steel. With widened eyes they stared up at the older man, wondering whether they should flee or stick it out.

Grandpa stared down the two brats that stood before him. Mighty tempted to just pounce them and show them just how old he really was, he opted to lean against the wall. Their innocent eyes followed his movement, still wide, still wondering. "I suppose this means that I've won?"

The two young boys, separated only by a year, looked at each other, silently consulting the other. Grandpa continued to watch them, amazed that he was staring into yet another mirror image of himself and his old friend. He shook off his reverie as both children turned to him with the mischievous glint his own children had held at the same age…well, as a matter of fact, they still had those looks.

"Nope!" they shouted in unison, taking down the hall that led to the main area of the house. An aggravated sigh escaped his body as he watched the two sugar-high kids bounce down the hall.

"All this, just to get them to train. Lazy brats, turning into their parents," and on and on he mumbled, stalking off after his brats' brats.

An all too familiar pout passed over the face of the young woman as she finally came across her charges. They sat there, cheeks puffed out, hands guiltily hovering over great-Grammy's chocolate chip cookies. She crossed her arms, glaring them down. Innocent as always, they offered her a cheeky smile. Laughing, she flicked stray strands of aqua-colored hair away from her slightly chubby face. "Honestly, you two…"

"Hey, Bura!" a tired mini-clone appeared, obviously exhausted. "I couldn't find—" Gulping down air, he glanced back and forth between the two chibis. "Never mind. I shoulda known that they would be here." Another light laugh escaped Bura's lips as she messaged her swollen stomach.

"Really, I don't know why we even bother. I guess spending all day with Dad in the GR yesterday caused them to develop some random cabin fever." She smiled down at her little brother. "I wouldn't worry too much. They can take care of themselves."

The teen crossed his arms, leveling his eyes at his sister. "Bura. Let's be realistic." He walked behind the two kids, who, in turn, watched as he prepared a lengthy speech for his sister. "This kid is the descendant of Goku." The little tike turned back to Bura and smiled, scratching the back of his head. "This brat," he paused, hearing the other growl, "is the descendant of Vegeta. Each is the descendant of Trunks and Pan, and Goten and you. Can you honestly tell me not to worry?"

Bura rolled her eyes, taking a seat at the table. " 'Geta, you spend too much time thinking about this." Vegeta (from now on to be known as 'Geta, or Veg) huffed over to the refrigerator.

"Anyway," he growled, taking a seat next to his nephews. "When are 'Ni-san and Goten supposed to get home today? Don't they have some kind of random watch to do…?"

"Yeah, apparently they've got guard duty. It's an all-night thing. They'll be back for dinner, surprise surprise, but will have to leave again."

'Geta let out a small snort, another habit taken from his father. "What on Earth ever possessed them to sign up for military service anyway?" It was Bura's turn to let out a small snort as she directed the chibis to the door to go to the bathroom. "Well, it's a mandatory service here in West City. Six years is a bit long though. I wonder if they fear something will happen…"

"BRATS!" Both demi-Saiya-jins blinked, glancing towards the door that led to the living room.

Said door swung open as a pink-haired Prince glared accusingly at his offspring. In each hand dangled the next generation…his grandchildren.

"Uhm, Dad…?"

"Take. Them." He easily threw both to 'Geta, not daring to chance his daughter's delicate position. Turning on his heel, he readied to stomp off to his wife's wonderful stash of "oops-I-messed-up-this-hair-style-too!".

Bura only smirked. "You look great in pink dad."

He paused, mid-stride, a slight twitch attacking his body before he stood as tall and as threateningly as he possibly could. "One word of this to your mother, or one blasted picture of this, and I will castrate your brother and your husband." Having spoken his almighty word, Prince Vegeta again marched on, wondering why there was a great obsession with pink on men.


A/N: haha, I had fun writing the last part. Well, I know this chapter seems a bit useless, just had to introduce my brats! Lol, yes, I will also post more info right now:

Trunks and Pan are married. They have one son: Goku Jr. (not to be confused with the GT version).

Goten and Bura are married. They also have one son: Vejita Jr. (please note the spelling, also be aware-NOT THE GT ONE!).

Vegeta and Bulma have three kids: Trunks, Bura, Vegeta Jr. (please note the spelling, will also alternate with 'Geta, Veg, Junior, etc…basically everything except plain old VEGETA).

The ages of course will be altered. In order for it to work, Gohan and Videl will hafta be a bit older (which will be explained a bit later on).

Vejita Jr. is about a year older than Goku Jr. (though it will be mentioned that he is one whole yr older. Doesn't affect the plot much). Yes, Trunks and Goten are serving mandatory military service duties (also to be explained later). Please note that the prologue happened a week after the actual start of the story.

So yay! Please review you guys, tell me if you need more clarity, offer suggestions. No flames, as usual. Professional criticism is appreciated, as always. Thanks!

Until next time: Ja Ne: Pearl