Chapter Three: Boys Will Be Boys
Tuesday: 2300 hrs
'1996…1997…1998……1999……' Vegeta continued to do his one-fingered push-ups. It had been like this for a little over an hour now. After convincing his youngest offspring of the benefits of a good mini-training session with "dear old dad", they had set about to push the teen's gravity tolerance. Junior was doing quite well, only a thousand behind his father.
'…2000…'
The Prince righted himself, opting to sit cross-legged on the floor. The tiny tint of pink that still graced his flame-like mane obviously annoyed the surly man. He was not used to the color (the infamous Bad Man shirt hung in the darkest corners of Bulma's closet), and found his status as a bad-ass warrior threatened. He knew that such things were fairly trivial in this time of peace, but still. Who the hell wanted to look like a flippin' pansy?
Veg chugged on, absolutely determined to hit the 2000 mark. Vegeta couldn't be prouder, and thus squashed all irritated thoughts of pink hair and possessed grandkids as much as his mind would allow him.
Sadly, as Prince Vegeta mused on, his son was slightly weaker than his older siblings. Amazingly enough, after the whole Buu fiasco (at which the thought made him cringe), the Onna had wanted yet another child. Not being one to totally refuse whatever she asked of him, he had complied.
Vegeta Junior came along a year later.
In an effort to start afresh, Vegeta had presented to not only the woman, or to the older children, but to his very last son the option of training. Instead of following in the footsteps of his blood relatives, the young boy had opted for a totally different career.
He submerged himself into the very art that his grandfather and mother were so proficient at. Junior was another brain.
By the time he had turned eight, he could practically recite all the formulas for all of the compounds that were used to build the gravity room. He could tinker with the housebots, and make them do the chores that he had been sent to do. Hell, he could even have a battle of wits with his aging grandfather. But all had not been lost.
Pure jealousy has dug under Junior's skin. Being eight had awakened a side in him that had not been seen in any of the other demi-Saiya-jins. With Vegeta having no other youngsters to train under his watchful eye, he opted for honing Trunks and Bura's skills, as well as taking Goten and Pan under his wing. Junior went from being the pride and joy of his mother (and a mentionable smirk from his father), to just being acknowledged by the maternal unit.
It was not that he had never trained before. The boy had taken many measures to at least keep his body healthy (by Saiya-jin standards), for a healthy body equaled a healthy mind. After the triggering of his paternal genes, the young prodigy fought to catch up.
Vegeta blinked up as the gravity returned to normal. Junior mumbled something about needing water, allowing his father to return to his thoughts.
Veg had strained hard to achieve a status that would no longer be his. Trunks would still be the first child Super Saiya-jin (as Gohan was a pre-teen his first time around years ago), Goten would be the youngest Super Saiya-jin, etc etc. But determination and sheer stubborn pride kept the youngest member of the Briefs-Ouji family going.
Yes indeed; Vegeta was mighty proud. He smirked as he stood up, bending over to swoop up is still full water bottle. The slight touch of soft skin against his tense back muscles nearly sent him flying into the computer consul.
"Heh, looks like someone's old senses aren't keeping up with them."
"Psht, spare me Onna. The touch of your roughened reptile-like skin merely shocked me. I remember a time, many, many years ago where your skin was as soft as silk."
Bulma sputtered, trying to find something, ANYTHING to get back at her husband. The most she could offer, after seconds of mental debate, was a glare and playful slap. "My skin would still be soft if some arrogant, pig-headed Saiya-jin would stop busting all of my inventions!"
Vegeta smirked again, gathering his mate close to him. "Just give me the word and I'll tell Bura to keep her Kaka-clone mate under control." The blue-haired genius giggled, giving another playful slap to his muscular bicept.
"Really, Veggie. You are so mean! We must remember that he is the father of our grandchildren."
"Like that ever made much difference in my opinion of him," he stated, nuzzling her neck.
"Vegeta!" Bulma pulled away, eyes lit with the blue fire that had trapped him years ago. "You know that deep down you really like Goten!"
The Prince crossed his arms, not liking the turn that his "cuddle-time" had just taken. Was she too daft to see that he was actually trying to do something "sweet" outside of the bedroom!
"I practically raised the brat. He has been to this house every day since he's been born!"
"All the more reason for you to just admit it!" She smiled brightly at him, hugging his arm to her.
"Fine! I like the brat! I allowed him to come to my home, befriend my children, marry my daughter, and aid the effort in giving me more offspring. Satisfied!"
"Yes," Bulma declared, laughing all the more as she dragged him out of his beloved sanctuary.
The walk from the GR to the house was short, with Bulma tightly securing his arm around her tiny waist. They said nothing, as nothing ever really needed to be said between the two.
Finally reaching their destination, Bulma released his arm and stepped forward, ready to rush to kitchen for a late-night snack. She nearly shrieked in surprise when a large hand gave her bottom one sound slap.
Accusing eyes bore into amused ones before the slightly taller of the two broke the battle with his deep voice.
"Boys will be boys, after all."
A/N: oops, I made a mistake! This was supposed to be chapter two, but that's ok, I only changed one line to not make it seem like it was out of place, ha ha ha! I hope you enjoyed this little snippet, and don't worry, everything is finally gonna get to where the prologue ended (finally)! So stay tuned for another update soon! Review please!
Ja Ne: Pearl
