Author's Notes: Yeah, here's your third chapter! I could have sworn I had already uploaded this, but I guess I forgot about it. Whoopsy! This installment is much lighter than the first two. I like fluff.

Training. It made him feel better, so he did it. There was no thinking involved in it, at least none that didn't come as instinctual. Vegeta could train for days and never get sick of the science.

The science of silence. The science of complete—voluntary—isolation. The science that kept those children away from him, though, was the one he truly cherished.

A knock and a beep at the door, now.

"Father?"

Trunks. Maybe Vegeta had spoken too soon. He turned his head to the door after turning off the gravity to see his son enter in a suit, looking like an Earthling slave to appearance.

"What?" Vegeta demanded.

"I have to leave for school, there's an important college conference today," Trunks explained.

"Then leave."

"Well, I'm going to but somebody needs to help Bra get dressed for school and I have to get there early today," Trunks patiently said, keeping blue eyes locked on his father's face.

"And?"

"Can you help her?" Trunks pleaded.

There was no reason that he wouldn't be able to other than his intense personal preference not to do anything outside of training. Vegeta picked up a towel and he wiped his neck clean of sweat as he pondered the question.

"Maybe," Vegeta said.

"Well, I need to know right now whether to take her to Gohan's house so Videl can help her or if I can trust you with it-"

"I'll do it. Just go to your precious conference," Vegeta spat the words at Trunks. He couldn't believe he would even suggest just handing over his sister to those Sons.

Trunks stared at his father for a long moment, "Alright…" He turned and walked out of the gravity room.

Five minutes later and Vegeta was showered and clean, standing in Bra's room over her bed as she slept. Her blue hair was messy around her head in a halo and Vegeta noted that he was blessed to have such aesthetically pleasing children. He had always found Goten and Gohan to have been strange looking, but he knew that had to do with genetics and Bulma had enhanced the gene pool by quite a lot.

Sighing, Vegeta knelt down and nudged his young daughter, "Wake up," he said.

Bra groaned and rolled over, her eyes opening in tired slits, "Huh?"

"You have to go to the education facility today. Wake up," Vegeta said.

"I don't wanna," Bra frowned at him.

Well, Vegeta didn't see any harm in letting her stay, but, if she did stay, she would want him to entertain her. If Trunks had stayed home, Vegeta would have done it without a second thought. However, Trunks was not there. It was only him and his young princess.

"You'll have to go back eventually," Vegeta said, "You might as well do it now."

"Ugh," Bra lifted her tiny body out of bed, letting out a huge yawn as she rubbed at her eyes. "Where's Trunks?" she asked.

"Receiving schooling," Vegeta replied.

"Oh," Bra looked at him now with expectant bright blue eyes.

"What?" Vegeta scowled as he stood up.

"Aren't you going to pick out my school clothes?" Bra inquired.

"No."

"… Can I pick them out!" Bra gasped in excitement.

"Yes."

Bra practically squealed as she jumped out of bed and ran over to her closet, yanking out clothing piece after clothing piece. Vegeta watched with a bemused expression as she had a field day. Bra finally settled on a fluffy pink gown. She walked over and set it on the bed. "I want to wear this," she pointed at it.

Vegeta examined the dress with his lips pursed. "… This was your uniform for that holiday last year," he realized.

"Halloween, silly!" Bra chimed. "I was a princess," she boasted.

He smirked. If only she knew the uniform for female royalty of the Saiyan race—she would be thoroughly disappointed.

"You wear clothing like this to school normally?" he asked.

"Uhuh!" Bra nodded her head furiously.

"Then I approve," Vegeta decided, turning to leave the room now.

"Daddy, my hair is messy," she complained before he could make it into the hallway.

"Then fix it," Vegeta looked over his shoulder at her to see that she was working up tears.

"What?" he scowled.

"I-I d-don't kn-know how!" Bra wailed.

Eyes widening, Vegeta froze. It wasn't as if he had any idea how to fix a girl's hair.

"Today is as good as any other day to build a new skill," Vegeta decided, his tone firm and giving no hint to his helplessness in the current situation.

Bra began sobbing.

Shit.

Two strides across the room put him in front of her, "We will fix your hair. Where are your supplies?" he demanded.

She hiccupped and pointed to the hallway, "Th-the ba-a-a-a-a-ath-th-th-th-th-th-r-r-r-"

"Bathroom."

"YEAH. THAT-T," Bra bawled.

"Stop that," Vegeta groaned. This was attention crying, and he was very familiar with it. Trunks had done it when he was too young to realize that it wasn't a very masculine thing to do. To Vegeta's displeasure, Bra didn't seem to care how weak it was.

Scooping her up in one arm and using his free hand to grab the dress, he headed off to the bathroom to get the child ready.

He swung the door to the bathroom open and he set her on the counter where Bra adjusted herself accordingly. Her tiny feet hung off the side and she looked up at him with eyes that were suspiciously dry now.

"What?" he snarled.

"Teeth," she pointed to her teeth.

Vegeta leaned forward and examined them. "Your teeth are-" Bra exhaled and he cut himself off before he could say fine.

"Your breath reeks."

She pointed at the toothpaste and then she snatched up a pink tooth-brush, handing it to her father.

He took hold of the pink monstrosity and gave Bra a questioning look. "You're old enough to brush your teeth," he decided.

"I can't squeeze the toothpaste right. I always get too much," Bra sighed dramatically.

Grumbling curse words under his breath, Vegeta snatched up the toothpaste and put the correct amount on the bristles before handing it to Bra who began brushing her teeth. Vegeta didn't understand why she felt the need to hum while she did so but he silently waited for her to finish.

Finally she spit out the white foamy spit into the sink and turned the water on so it would wash down. Handing back the brush to her father, Vegeta realized she had managed to get spit on her tiny chin.

"Wash your face."

"Huh?"

Instead of fighting, which Vegeta was sure would take more energy than what it was worth, he grabbed a washcloth and moistened it. He put it to her face and scrubbed gently before dumping the cloth on the other side of the counter away from Bra.

"I look like a monster with my hair like this!" she chimed, starting to make unattractive faces in the mirror now as though to prove her point.

"Yes," he agreed as he took a brush into his hand. He had seen Bulma brush her hair when it was unruly, so he assumed Bra did the same.

Putting the brush to her blue hair, he slowly brought it down along her scalp and Bra squeaked.

"OW!"

Vegeta stalled. "What?"

"That hurts!" Bra complained.

Maybe Bra's hair wasn't fixed this way. Vegeta pursed his lips in distress.

"Why'd you stop?" Bra asked in confusion, looking at his face in the mirror.

"You were in pain."

"Yeah," she nodded, "So?"

Well, he felt a little bit of pride at Bra toughing through the pain, even if it was solely for the sake of her appearance. He put the brush back to her hair and ran it through a few times until it was smooth as silk once more.

"I want a bow!" Bra used her feet to open a drawer below the counter. It was filled with bows of different colors.

Vegeta tilted his head slightly, "I was unaware of this drawer's contents," he mused, seeming surprised they had a whole drawer dedicated to the bows Bra loved to wear.

She grabbed one and held it to her father who took it with hesitant fingers. Looking it over, his eyebrows pulled together as he figured out the locking and unlocking ability of the accessory. His gaze went to his daughter to see that there was so much room to place a bow. "I want it right here," she seemed to catch onto his confusion and she pointed to the left side of her head.

Vegeta locked the bow in place and she gasped, "Oh! I want another!" and she grabbed a new bow.

This system continued for about two minutes. Bra would pick out a new bow and he would lock into her hair. By the time she finally decided that she had enough bows, there were ten clinging to her blue strands.

She put on her dress now and beamed up at Vegeta, "Do I look pretty?"

"I suppose," Vegeta said, unsure. He was never good with the earthen idea of beauty.

"Yay!" she cheered, giving his legs a hug before she scampered downstairs to the kitchen for breakfast. Vegeta followed her in and he looked at her.

"What do you want?" he asked.

"Cake!" Bra cheered.

Well, whatever.

Vegeta fixed her a plate of one of the many cakes Chi-Chi had made them. He wasn't a fan of the harpy, but she made good food and he wasn't against taking it. His belligerence did know bounds, contrary to popular belief.

"Oh, Daddy! There's the bus!" Bra took a huge hand-full of cake, running over to him and she reached up in a pushy fashion. Vegeta leaned down to see what she wanted and she gave him a messy kiss on the nose before scampering out the front door to the school bus that was outside.

Vegeta got up and watched from the window as Bra walked onto the bus with her head lifted up so far that she could barely see the ground. She was filled with so much pride, and it reminded him of Bulma.

If thinking of Bulma didn't hurt so badly, he might just have smiled.

Instead, he turned and walked straight back to the gravity room. He trained there and he slept there and he ignored all the calls from Trunks behind the door.