AN: Okay, I am going to stop saying "I'll update soon" because I have discovered that it is only when I say that that I end up not updating for over a month…

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"I still don't think this is such a good idea," Gohan muttered, playing with the buttons on his shirt.

Chi-Chi just shook her head, putting the last of the dishes away. "I know, honey, but it's too late to call it off now. If we took this away from Trunks, he would throw an absolute fit." After a moment of hesitation, a hint of a smile crossed her features. "Actually, his mother would, too!"

Gohan bit down softly on his lower lip. "Mom, Vegeta really didn't seem that happy about this idea when we told him last night," he hesitantly said.

"Oh, Vegeta didn't seem anything when we told him last night," Chi-Chi countered. "No, he didn't seem happy about it, but he didn't exactly seem angry or upset about it either. We've already committed to this, Gohan."

Glancing to the side, Gohan softly added, "He's repressing his emotions."

Checking her bag one last time, Chi-Chi just shrugged her shoulders. "People do that. It may not be the healthiest way in the world for him to deal with his problems, Gohan," she muttered, organizing a few things, "but it's how he's dealing with it, and it's not like it's going to kill anyone."

Gohan turned toward the stairs, mumbling about getting Goten ready. It seemed that his father had not told his mother about the events of the previous night. Though Gohan badly wanted to talk to someone about what had happened, he respected Vegeta more than enough to not say a word.

As he headed for his little brother, Gohan silently prayed that he would be able to prevent such a thing from ever happening again.

…

"Hey, Dad?" Trunks asked, coming down the stairs of their new home.

"Hn?" was his only response.

The purple haired boy shifted nervously on his feet. "What do I do if, like, Goten mentions that Mom is, well, my mom?"

Vegeta knelt down to tie his shoe, not looking at his son. "Do what you always do," he simply said.

"What?" Trunks asked, genuinely confused. He couldn't think of a single moment in his life that he could use for reference.

The elder prince stood, turned, and put a hand on his young son's shoulder. "Look frustrated, call him an idiot really loudly, and come up with some perfectly bullshit thing to lecture him about."

Trunks blinked in surprise at his father. "Do you really think that would work?" he wondered out loud?

"Trust me," Vegeta responded, turning around, "your mother has fallen for that act every time."

After a few minutes of silence, Trunks once again shifted his weight back and forth on his feet. "Hey, Dad?" he asked again.

"Hn?"

"What do I call her?" the boy questioned. "I mean, I can't call her Mom, but I don't really want to call her, like, Bulma or Mrs. Briefs or something."

"Avoid it," his father answered without hesitation. "I sincerely doubt that there will come a situation that will leave you with no possible way around it."

Several moments passed before Trunks once again shifted nervously. "Hey, Dad?"

"Hn?"

"Thanks for agreeing to this."

Vegeta only offered his son a silent nod before the two quietly took to the sky, heading slowly to the place they had once called home.

…

Bulma frowned at her reflection. She had tried everything she could think of, shy of actually putting on a wig, to detract from her baldness. No matter what she tried, though, it was still painfully obvious. There was an extremely pale, barely noticeable layer of blue starting to form on her head, but even with it, she still looked completely bald.

"Damn it," she growled, peeling off the blouse she had just tried on. "I've got half a mind to go back to Namek, take their dragon balls, and just wish my damn hair back!" Glaring at the mirror, she let out an exasperated sigh. "Okay, do I want to go with the little old lady had, the head scarf that makes my head look proportionally too small, or just go with bald and beautiful?"

Sparing the clock a glance, she realized that her guests were supposed to arrive at any moment. "Oh, screw it!" she finally said, throwing her blouse on the floor. "Bald and beautiful!"

A knock on the door startled the heiress. "Damn it," she growled, grabbing the nearest shirt she could. "I'm not ready!"

"And your doors aren't soundproof," a familiar voice called from the other side.

Bulma blinked, pausing the buttoning of her royal blue shirt. "Krillen?" she called through the door.

"You know someone else who sounds like this?" the former monk laughed. Before she could answer, he went on. "I've got a couple of hyperactive little guys out here who are dying to say hi. Can I let them in, or are they going to have to overpower me and break down the door?"

A few words were spoken by a young, unknown voice, but they were too muffled by the door for Bulma to make them out. Fortunately for her, Krillen was happy to translate. "I have just received several reminders that they can subdue me, get passed me, and enter by force, if need be." A scuffle was heard, followed by a round of giggles. "Bulma, save me!"

Making sure that she was modest, Bulma put her hand on the doorknob. "Never fear," she called out, "Bulma's here!"

The poor heiress never had a chance to figure out what hit her. The door flew open with enough force to launch the startled genius all the way back to her bed. As she tried to get her bearings, she found herself tackled down and surrounded by cries of, "Auntie Bulma! Auntie Bulma!"

"Oof," Bulma grunted as the larger of the two landed squarely on her chest.

"Kids!" Krillen cried out, fearing for the heiress' safety. "Be gentle!"

"Oops," the little boy muttered, crawling off and giggling. "Sorry, Auntie Bulma. Sometimes I forget."

As Bulma regained her senses, she couldn't help but stare at the little boy before her. "Oh, wow…" she whispered.

The children exchanged confused glances at her reaction, but Krillen only chuckled. "I know, right?" he laughed. "I told you, they were completely identical!"

Bulma continued to stare at the boy, completely absorbed in the similarities between the child and what his father had looked like at that age. "You must be Goten," she finally said, smiling at the boy.

Goten beamed up at her. "You remember me!"

"Sorry, kiddo," she said, ruffling her fingers through his wild, thick hair. "Krillen told me all about you."

"Aw, phooey," Goten grunted, crossing his arms and pouting. Bulma felt her heart aching slightly at dashing the young boy's hopes, but when five seconds later he shrugged it off, giggled, and said, "Oh, well!" she felt fine.

Turning to the little girl on the bed, Bulma smiled again. "And you must be Marron," she teased, pulling her in for a gentle hug.

"Yup!" she giggled, wrapping her arms around the genius. "And because I'm not a dumb boy, I know you don't remember me, but Daddy told you all about me." Without missing a beat, she whipped her little blond pigtails around and stuck her tongue out at Goten.

"Hey!" Goten exclaimed. "I'm not dumb!"

"You're a boy, boy's are dumb, so you're dumb!" the girl countered.

"Well, Trunks is really smart, and he's a boy, so that means that you're wrong and you're the dumb one!"

Bulma blinked in surprise. "Who's Trunks?" she asked.

"I am."

Bulma's eyes drifted back to her bedroom door. She had been so caught off guard by the two hyperactive children that she hadn't seen Krillen standing there with a quiet little boy by his side.

"Oh," she softly said, "I'm sorry, Trunks, but no one told me about you…"

Though the boy offered a casual shoulder shrug, she could see the hurt in his bright blue eyes. "It's okay," he mumbled. "I didn't think that they would."

"Well, come on up here!" she invited, patting some open space I the bed. "I want to get to know all about you!"

Trunks hopped up on the bed, but while the other kids had been giddy and happy, this boy seemed shy and nervous. "Hi," he quietly spoke, looking at his lap.

"Hello, Trunks," she softly said, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I know we've probably met before, but…"

"You can't remember anything from the last twelve years," the nine year old filled in. "Since I'm younger than twelve, you don't remember I ever existed."

Bulma was taken slightly aback by the boy's bluntness, but tried to let it slide. After all, if someone she had known her whole life just forgot all about her one day, she knew she wouldn't be able to hide her disappointment, either. "You seem like a pretty smart boy," she complemented.

Trunks could feel the blush spread across his face, and he made sure to keep his eyes away from her. "Thank you," he murmured.

Bulma carefully studied to boy on her bed. "Okay, I know that Goten came from Goku and Chi-Chi, and Marron belongs to Krillen and…" Bulma spared a glance at the door. "…Eighteen? Is that what her name is?"

Krillen gave a silent affirmative nod.

"Krillen and Eighteen," Bulma said again, getting back on her train of thought. "So tell me, Trunks, can you help me out and tell me how you fit into the crazy jigsaw puzzle that makes up this group?"

The room fell deathly silent as everyone stared at Trunks. Making sure his eyes were averted, the young prince cleared his throat. "I was born in to it, like they were."

"Well, that makes sense," Bulma slowly said, figuring out how to get the information she wanted. She decided to settle on the direct approach. "But whose kid are you?"

Trunks squirmed under his mother's curious watch. Everyone in the group, even the children now, knew that Vegeta had once been the greatest threat to the well being of the Earth. They also knew that as far as Bulma's mind was concerned, he was still their top enemy. "I'll tell you later," Trunks mumbled. "My dad wasn't a part of the group twelve years ago, and I guess you should probably get to know him first."

Though the child's logic didn't make any sense to her, Bulma decided not to press it too hard. "Okay, so what about your mom?"

For the first time, Trunks looked up and locked his eyes with his mother's. "She's not with us anymore," he firmly said. "It's just me and my dad."

"Oh," Bulma whispered, shifting back slightly, "I'm sorry."

Again, Trunks shrugged. "You couldn't have known," he factually stated.

From his uncomfortable position in the doorway, Krillen cleared his throat. "Well," he nervously said, clapping his hands together, "now you know what all the kids look like, so how about we go down and get this party started?"

"Yea, a party!" Goten cheered, jumping up and pumping his fist in the air. "Mommy made a lot of good food for us to eat, and I'm gonna get there first!" In a blur of black and orange, the little boy flashed out of the room.

"Hey!" Marron shouted, scrambling to her feet, "no fair! You got powers!" The tiny blonde bounced off the bed and ran as fast as she could, trying to catch her friend even though she knew she couldn't.

Krillen laughed from the doorway. "Bulma, you're going to want to run if you want to get any food," he chuckled. "Goten's just like his dad when it comes to eating. If it's in front of him and someone says it's edible, he will eat it and he will eat it fast."

Bulma giggled. "It must be some crazy Saiyan thing. Thank Kami that's the only trait that Goku kept!" She paused for a moment before adding, "Well, I guess his urge to fight and his psycho strength are byproducts of that, too, but I'm glad he's not the freak the rest of them were." With practiced ease, the heiress got off her bed and began to head downstairs. She paused as soon as she hit the doorway, turning to the child that still sat on her bed. "Trunks, don't you want to come, too?"

Bulma hadn't seen the look that had been on his face when she called the Saiyans freaks. Her back had been to him, so the heart breaking pain that single phrase caused remained unknown to her. By the time she had turned back to him, he had slid a stoic mask on to his pained features.

"Sure," he bluntly stated. "I'm just going to go to the bathroom while I'm up here."

Offering a single shoulder shrug, Bulma turned away from him. "Well, you seem to know where everything is. I'll see you down there!" Turning to her short friend, she asked Krillen if he was coming along.

"I, uh, need to use the bathroom, too," was all he said, waving her off.

Bulma could tell that something was up, but she could also tell that they wanted her to be gone before they did anything. "Okay," she hesitantly said. "Well, I'll be downstairs waiting for both of you."

As soon as she was gone, Krillen entered the room all the way. "How are you, kid?" he asked, placing a hand on the young prince's shoulder.

Trunks shrugged, his head lowered and his bangs dangling in his eyes. "Okay, I guess," he mumbled. "I mean, it's nice to see Mom all happy and healthy, but…"

When the child didn't finish his sentence, the former monk offered him a small hug. "Hey, it's okay," he reassuringly said. "You know that if you want to go home, you can."

"I am home!" Trunks hissed, glaring at his companion.

Krillen bit down on his lip, wishing he hadn't used that phrase. "I know," he whispered. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean that. What I meant to say, Trunks, is do you want to leave?"

Once again, the boy lowered his head. "No," he quietly answered, "but I would like to be alone for a while."

Krillen nodded, moving away from the child. "Just let me know if you need anything, kid," he offered, giving him one last glance before leaving the room.

…

"She's coming," Gohan softly said. He knew it was an unnecessary statement, that everyone else could sense her energy as it descended the stairs, but he felt as though he still needed to say it. No one said a word in response, but they all offered a nod of understanding. Nervously, the teenager glanced to the corner his prince was standing in. Vegeta hadn't said a word since he had arrived, but Gohan tried to soothe his nerves by reminding himself that Vegeta rarely, if ever, spoke at social functions.

Goten suddenly came barreling into the room, clearly making a break for the food. "Yummy!" he yelled, making a dive for it. Gohan and Goku lunged simultaneously, both of them having to pull back hard to stop the child from careening in to the food table.

"Oh no you don't, squirt," Gohan grunted, pulling his brother back.

"If I have to wait," Goku added, "so do you!"

As they lowered the boy to the ground, they heard a furious stomping coming for them. "You cheated!" Marron shouted, running hard and angrily into the room. "You used powers!"

"They're not powers, I'm just faster than you!" Goten shot back, sticking his tongue out at her.

"Humans can't do it, so they are powers, so you cheated!" the blonde girl shouted louder.

"Nuh-uh!" countered the demi-Saiyan. "Your daddy, Yamcha, and Tien can all run real fast, and they're human, so it's not a power and I didn't cheat!"

"It is too a power!" argued the little girl.

Goten stuck his tongue out at her. "You're just mad because you can inherit being Saiyan, but not being part robot!" As Marron opened her mouth for her counterargument, she found herself cut off.

"Is the conversation here always this intellectually stimulating?" Bulma laughed, entering the room.

"Bulma!" everyone called out. The heiress found herself swarmed by old friends, all of them needing to see for themselves that she really was okay. She laughed jovially as she felt a half dozen hands grabbing and her shoulders, arms, and head as everyone tried to greet her at the same time.

"Okay, okay, give me some room!" she giggled, pushing them back lightly. She had seen most of them while she was still injured, but she had discovered that they all seemed to look somewhat different when the room was lit and she wasn't on morphine. "Wow, look at you guys!" she exclaimed. "Are you sure it's been twelve years since Namek? The only one who looks any older is Gohan!"

Chi-Chi rolled her eyes. "Oh, you know I'm an old lady now," she teased.

"Hey, watch it!" Bulma countered. "You're younger than me, and I, clearly, am still young." In truth, Bulma had long ago done the math and figured out that she was just over forty, but as long as she only felt like she was in her late twenties, she didn't care. "Therefore, you are young."

"How about me, Bulma?" Goku asked, acting like the big kid he was at heart. "Do I look any different?"

The heiress carefully looked her oldest friend up and down. "No wrinkles, no fine lines, no change in skin tone, no obvious new scars in twelve years…do you Saiyans just not age?"

Goku chuckled, scratching the back of his head. "I guess not!" He glanced over at a blonde woman who seemed to be standing away from the festivities. "Hey, Eighteen, do androids get older?"

Bulma slowly put two and two together in her head. "Eighteen's not human," she reasoned out loud to Chi-Chi, "but her daughter is?"

"Don't ask me," the younger mother answered with a shrug. "I don't know how it works, and she and I have never been close enough for me to feel comfortable asking."

The scientist nodded along, mentally filing away that piece of information. "I suppose if you're a part of this group and you're going to settle down, you need someone with just as strange a back story. Speaking of which, what's the deal with Gohan's girlfriend?"

Chi-Chi blinked in surprise. "What are you talking about?"

"All I could get out of Gohan was that she's beautiful, a fighter, and has a temper that goes with yours and mine. But he also said that she knew he wasn't totally human."

"So?"

Bulma raised an eyebrow. "We both know that 'normal' people can't accept what we deal with, so she clearly has some kind of history. What is it? And why isn't she here?"

Chi-Chi laughed. "Oh, that's a long story," she responded. "Well, not the why isn't she here part. She's with her father on the other side of the world for a couple days. Tell you what, why don't we grab something to eat before we let the Saiyan's attack the food, and I'll tell you all about my future daughter-in-law."

Bulma's jaw dropped. "Gohan's engaged?!?" she shouted.

Everyone stopped talking and turned toward Gohan, who had already started waiving his hands defensively. "Mom, stop telling people that! It's not true!"

"I was married when I was your age," his mother pointed out.

As mother and son began their usual back and forth on the subject, Bulma slinked away toward Goku. "Is she always like this about getting Gohan married?"

Goku, trying really hard to not drool over the food on the table, just nodded. "Yeah, at least in the last year. I hate saying this, but I have no idea what she was like when I was gone."

"Gone?" Bulma asked with a surprised blink. "Where were you?"

"Dead," Goku casually said, still eyeing the food.

Bulma opened her mouth to ask what the hell her friend was talking about, but a movement in the doorway caught her eye. She watched carefully as Trunks entered the room silently. The boy seemed almost painfully shy to her, and she just wanted to go over and hug him. She watched as the child rounded the corner of the garden, and was surprised when she saw a hand reach out from around the wall and landed on the boy's shoulder.

"She's not with us anymore. It's just me and my dad."

As she remembered his words, she began walking toward him. Though she knew that the man would be a stranger to her, she wanted to make sure she greeted everyone who had come to see her. Hell, she had even planned to talk to Krillen's beautiful, if not creepy, wife.

The rest of the group had gotten so caught up in Chi-Chi and Gohan's tiff that they hadn't noticed that Bulma was wandering off until it was too late. The heiress confidently strode to the edge of the building, turning to meet this new group member.

As soon as she saw him, she let out a blood curdling scream.

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