A/N: Thank you Guest, elsi, sora 79, a guy1013, Sixseedseternalbond, and TeeLee123 for reviewing! Really busy holiday, but I finally got to crank this out. I hope you enjoy our first chapter on Vegeta-sei!

"Trunks…" Bulma said for the seventeenth time as the boy hopped around Nappa, asking him how he was going to land the ship. Nappa was already twitching with annoyance. "Please get in your seat." She was pretty sure that Trunks had heard her and was just choosing to ignore her because he wanted to satisfy that curious mind of his.

"Boy!" Vegeta barked. "Do as your mother says or I will rip off your legs. See how well you can walk then!"

Bulma was about…80 percent sure that Vegeta's threat was idle, but much to her shock, Trunks readily obeyed his father and strapped himself in with a brief look of alarm. Vegeta backing her up was also a surprise, as he had scoffed when she initially tried to encourage Trunks to sit in his seat.

"He's a Saiyan, Woman. He doesn't need a restrictive device to keep him safe like your fragile race."

But then Bulma was pretty sure that Trunks' exuberance was annoying Vegeta, and if he had a seat belt and sat like a good little boy, he wouldn't be ricocheting off the walls. Trunks pouted as he sat, but made no more argument as they broke into Vegeta-sei's red horizon.

"Woahhhhhh!" Trunks cried as they were enveloped in a crimson haze. "It's all red, Mama!"

"I see that," Bulma said, also looking a bit turned by the harsh coloring. "Is it always like this?"

"Yes," Vegeta said. He was watching her indolently, which was a better activity than watching his son fidget around. "You wear it well."

Bulma rolled her eyes. "Well, I always look beautiful…but thanks, that's a real weight off my shoulders. And of course your planet is all red! So fitting."

"Are you insulting my planet?"

"Why would I do that? I just said it was fitting."

For the last few days, there was such a bite in her voice that he was growing tired of her attitude. Her flare of temper had begun when he told her how things were going to be and he wondered how long this defiance would last.

It was best not to bring her around his father until it faded. He didn't want a dead Woman, as trying as she was… Turning away from mother and son, he went to Nappa, who was preparing to land.

"Nappa, bring us into the landing bay and then direct the men to run full maintenance on the ship but do not touch the pods. Under any circumstances. I don't want anyone fiddling with them after what happened last time." Any annoyance faded from his face after that, as he gave Nappa a very serious look. "And then I want you to attend my father on my behalf."

"My prince!"

"Quiet!" Vegeta snapped, knowing that the exclamation would draw the Woman's attention. "My father will have to wait until I have an audience with him to understand everything. And I need to get Bulma and my son in place where they cannot cause any trouble and no one can cause trouble for them. I do not trust anyone else with the task, and you only have yourself to thank for that." Vegeta's eyes flashed at his second, reminding him of his attack on the Earthling woman. Nappa's mouth thinned. If the prince blamed him for not seeing his father immediately, either Saiyan royal could take it out on him, which never boded well. Just another thing he had the wretched bitch to thank for!

"I would prefer it if I am to explain this privately to the King," Vegeta continued. "I want no officials—no generals standing in when I get there. I'm sure you can at least arrange that."

"Of course, Your Highness," Nappa gave a small bow. "I will let the King know your wishes."

"And impress upon him that the matter is personal." The truth was, Vegeta really didn't think that matter was all that personal. If the half-blood were anybody else's son, it wouldn't have been. Vegeta didn't think it changed the way he thought about it, but it did change the way he approached it. The Saiyan Elite were never known for their open-mindedness and surely that hadn't changed. His new mission was strictly need-to-know. He didn't want any hiccups, otherwise he would have to go the whole way back to Earth to retrieve Kakarot's brat, who had less of a taste for fighting than his own son. In no way was that the more palatable option.

Bulma didn't hold her tongue like Vegeta would have wished, as he commanded her and Trunks off the ship and around the back of the bay. He briefly wished he hadn't checked to see if her bracelet was in place and let the planet's gravity crush her mouthy little skull. "Not that it's not great to get away from Nappa, but why are you sneaking around like this? Aren't you their prince?"

He glowered at her sarcastic edge. "Hush, Woman. We are not on Earth anymore, so the amount of helpful advice you could give about customs has now dwindled to nothing."

"You wouldn't be hiding us, would you, maestro?" she said smartly as she trotted along next to him with the additional weight of her bags, including her lab equipment. Anything that couldn't survive the dense environment would have to be replaced in some form from the Saiyan labs (that is, from the slaves that occupied the Saiyan laboratory…Saiyans hadn't had a care for science in a long time).

Vegeta didn't have the faintest idea what a 'maestro' was, but he was too alert for distraction to care. "If you want to live, you'll shut up and follow me."

Trunks, for once, hadn't made a peep. Instead, his eyes roamed everything that lay before them, absorbing all of this newness. Bulma's eyes softened at his reaction. Vegeta rolled his eyes, but was secretly pleased with the boy. It would be different to teach someone the ways of a Saiyan, especially his own son, who seemed eager to learn in every aspect. The redness of the sky also offset the tragedy that was his offspring's hair, making it burn red in a way Saiyan's would probably admire. Vegeta noticed that the same light didn't reflect off Bulma's unmistakable blue locks as effectively. But that didn't matter as much to Vegeta. The Woman was always to be an outsider, an alien…luckily, she was exotic enough to be an object of desire rather than something to be discarded.

As a future King, Vegeta had to be aware of all different perspectives—the common warrior, the Elite, every Saiyan whose blood ran hot for battle and pride. He had to perceive Bulma and Trunks as a Saiyan stranger, something he hadn't done been able to do when he considered his history with the Woman and his blood ties with the boy. Touching ground on his own planet had sealed this reality more than it had before.

There were less traveled areas in the palace, and one of them was the wing belonging to the King and, when he had been on-planet, the Prince. Right before Vegeta had taken flight with Bulma in her arms, he saw her struggling to keep up with her belongings in-hand. Growling about "puny little female creatures" he snatched her things out of her grasping hands.

"Hey!"

"You're pathetically weak, Woman. I don't know how you got along for so many years without me."

"Better than ever," she shot back with mild heat as he dumped one of her bags on Trunks, the boy's Saiyan reflexes kicking in as he caught it, breaking his attention from their surroundings, and Vegeta hoisted the rest onto his back before sweeping her up.

"What are you doing now?"

"I'm taking you to my chambers to stay there until I have a word with my father and…explain our little project." He took to the air and in that wordless way that he and the boy had learned to communicate in the last month, Trunks followed closely behind, occasionally "oohing" and "aahing" over whatever he was seeing.

Bulma pursed her lips in thought and Vegeta wondered if she was going to broach the subject of sleeping arrangements again. But instead, she said, "what is your father going to think about all of this?"

He hadn't shared much about his father with the Woman. Truly, he didn't think much of the King; he was merely a weaker version of himself, and Vegeta had only kept him alive because it freed Vegeta from responsibility of the day-to-day ruling while he figured out a way to get out from under Frieza's oppression. On a certain and much more hidden level, he did respect his father for having the good sense to allow Vegeta to do mostly as he pleased all this time, never demanding that he come back and give Vegeta reason to kill him. He had given away Tarble years before, a decision that Vegeta both approved and disapproved of.

He approved because it protected the heir to the throne when he could have been enslaved directly by the monster who owned nearly the entire galaxy. And he disapproved because Vegeta always had to loathe weakness. And giving away any of your sons over to be tortured and die was a weakness that couldn't be borne. Vegeta often thought that he'd rather die than make such a pathetic choice.

As for what his father would think… Vegeta had already given that plenty of heed.

"Woah…" Trunks gasped as the enormous palace came into sight and in short order, they landed at a side palace entrance. The guards, recognizing Vegeta as part of the royal family with his unmistakable resemblance to his father, quickly stepped aside to allow them entrance, not able to conceal their shock at the young male who looked so much like their King wordlessly sneaking into the palace after a decade's disappearance. They said nothing as they stepped aside, and Vegeta hardly spared them a glance, the royal bearing proof enough of his identity, or so he believed. Little Trunks' steps stuttered as they started down a sprawling corridor and Vegeta set Bulma on her feet, but still kept hold of her arm. Though adorned in a militant fashion, the palace was huge and lavish, as would befit a warrior race. Trunks glowed with excitement as he scanned the walls. "WOAH, Papa!"

"Quiet, brat!" Vegeta grunted. "What did I say about public?"

"What do you mean, what did you say to him about the public?" Bulma asked, intrusively in Vegeta's opinion. She nearly stumbled as they moved faster than your typical Earthling pace. "Can we slow down?"

"No. I have somewhere to be." At her contrariness, he pulled her along faster. But she didn't complain, which annoyed him a little. He would never admit it to himself, but he liked it when she got mad at him for flouting her wishes. Her indifference was always infuriating to him.

"You can keep up, Mama!" Trunks said brightly as he zoomed along, going ahead and coming back again. He had room to do so, as this quarter was abandoned, besides an occasional slave on their way to some task.

"You know, you didn't answer my question," Bulma said as Trunks sped away again. "What is your father going to think of this?"

The answer that had been in his head earlier now came out of his mouth.

"That's none of your business," Vegeta said shortly. "Your only business is to do as I command and to make sure you stay alive when I'm not around to protect your flimsy human body."

Dark walls, sharp weapons, silver and brown and red…his quarters looked no different then the last time he had been there.

"Spartan much?" Bulma muttered as Trunks ran through the rooms at incredible speed, claiming one room as his own, even though there was no additional bed. Vegeta would have to order a servant to have one moved there.

"Mama, Mama, look how the water comes out in the bathroom!"

"I'll be there in a minute, Trunks!" Bulma called back, before turning to Vegeta. They stood in the Master Bedroom, a huge, mostly empty space, with a large bed in the center. She determined not to look at it, and so did he. "So I take it that you are now going to lock us in here and go see your father and tell him about your dirty little secret?"

"Fairly accurate, Woman." Vegeta smirked.

"You're such a jerk! Especially what you said before. You always have to command and control. You have a real problem with that, you know," she fumed. They both suddenly looked down at the bed at the same time, before Bulma calmly said something that gave Vegeta pause.

"I'm not doing this because I'm scared of you, Vegeta."

"What," Vegeta said darkly, wondering if she was really going to take this moment to establish some control over him. He could easily just threaten her again, but he didn't really want to live in close quarters with a pissed off woman and he had somewhere he needed to be.

"I said I'm not doing this because I'm scared of you." Vegeta turned toward her and she turned to him. Her eyes glinted fiercely. "I thought about it while I was on the ship…and I want to help you kill Frieza."

"Hn." Vegeta couldn't think of anything to say, so he waited for her to go on. This was certainly not what he had expected.

"At first, I was angry with you for threatening me and taking my son."

Vegeta grunted and crossed his arms. Her voice still sounded bitter and angry, so he wondered where the big change came in.

"But I've been thinking about why you're doing this," she took a deep breath, not meeting his eyes. "It's why I fell in love with you all those years ago." He scoffed, though his heart…or was it his stomach? clenched oddly as she said those words. He knew of the Earthling concept of love, which was complete nonsense in his mind, but he had never heard her say that she had felt something like that for him. He wasn't sure if he was surprised or not.

"At the end of it, you are trying to rid the galaxy of a big, awful monster. And…you are being smart about it. You are trying to find a fool-proof way to fulfill your Saiyan legend and really beat the guy. It's smart, well…smarter than Goku could come up with."

"Of course it is!" He hated whenever the Woman compared him to that simpleton.

"Yeah, well that's what I like about you!" Bulma retorted, blushing but not taking anything back. "And I want to help you and I want to defeat Frieza because I think it's the right thing to do! Not because you threaten me!"

"Alright!" Vegeta roared. "As if I care about your reasons as long as you do it!"

Bulma threw up her hands. "Ugh, whatever!"

"Why are you yelling?" Trunks poked his head out from around the corner, looking worried. His eyes were on his mother, but darted occasionally to Vegeta. "I bet everybody even in this big place could hear you."

"The corridor is empty, brat!" Vegeta glared at the boy, who shrunk back a little, but glared right back.

"Don't yell at my son," Bulma shouted, drawing his attention back to her.

It was Vegeta's turn to throw up his hands. "Whatever, coddle the brat, Woman! But you'd better not leave this room until I return, or there will be hell to pay!"

"Fine!"

Vegeta slammed the door with force, making it rattle dangerously, before storming down the hall. He made it the entire way to the throne room before he saw a palace guard who wasn't stationed anywhere. "You!" Vegeta snapped. "Go find my quarters and guard the door until I return. No one is to leave that room."

"But, my prince, I don't—"

"Figure it out!"

It was only when he was about to enter his father's presence chamber that he realized that he didn't know what the argument he had with Bulma was really about. And that she had said something that was still ringing through his head:

I want to help you.

She had been yelling and as usual, it irritated Vegeta enough to hardly pay attention to the discussion. Saiyan hearing was sensitive and the temptation to strangle her to stop the noise always took a degree of concentration. It just turned out this time that she was shouting things he would've liked to hear if she hadn't been shouting.

So maybe she wanted to help him of her own accord? Not because he threatened Trunks?

He wanted to believe that…but the Woman was intelligent if nothing else. And that intelligence heightened her ability to deceive.

No, he couldn't trust her.

The guards stepped aside as Vegeta pushed through the doors, he had barely taken a breath since he landed. And now he was going to confront his father for the first time in a standard decade and he hadn't prepared anything to say.

Luckily, the presence chamber was empty and the King's advisors were scattered. Nappa was the lone Saiyan there, standing by the far door to the King's private audience chambers.

Nappa inclined his head, when Vegeta approached. "He'll see you in there, Your Highness."

"And you told him nothing?"

Nappa nodded. "The King knows that you have to discuss something with him, but he does not know anything else."

Vegeta knew Nappa wouldn't lie to him now, so he was pleased that his second had restrained himself from speaking about Bulma or the brat. It was his place to discuss this with his father. Vegeta strode through the door and Nappa waited outside, as was custom. Vegeta did not invite him in.

Dark twins with ages between them met eyes and lit with familiarity. The King stroked his beard once—the one thing that set them apart—before he shifted in his chair and spoke.

"Is this my son?"

Vegeta stood there as his father appraised him.

"Your power level has increased at a level beyond what I could imagine."

"Yes," Vegeta said smugly. Then his smirk dropped. "But all of that is for nothing unless I fulfill the legend and become powerful enough to defeat your Lord Frieza."

"My Lord Frieza." The King stared at the Prince, whose expression didn't change at all, and then he huffed a laugh. "You have not changed at all, brat, have you?"

Vegeta stiffened at the form of address, but it was only a minor irritation. "I've changed a great deal, old man. You yourself said that my power level was greater than it was before."

"Greater than almost any other I've ran across." His father managed to deliver that compliment while still sounding completely unimpressed. "However, I'm not speaking of power."

"Well, I am," Vegeta said stubbornly. "And that is all that I will discuss with you, because nothing else is important now. Frieza even has the power to wipe us out and we sit here on our hands."

The King didn't answer what could be taken as Vegeta's accusation and leaned back in his chair. "Then what are you here for?"

"I've discovered something very intriguing," Vegeta's lips curled upward. "A latent power that if we could puzzle it out, could assist us."

"And have you brought this 'latent power' with you?" The King's eyes lit with some curiosity, and possibly, hope? Vegeta had never recognized it before. "And why bring it here? You've never expressed a desire to return before and Frieza still orders you on missions."

Vegeta's brow furrowed sharply at the reminder. "Frieza has not sent me on one in months. He's sending me on less and less…and if he does, I will go. He will not suspect a thing."

Truth was, he hadn't given much thought to what would happen if Frieza sent him off-planet. His plan had mainly involved getting Bulma and Trunks to his own planet and following through with what he set out to do. But if Frieza called him back out, he would need to have certain protections in place for the boy and his mother…

"And your acquisition?" the King said. "What planet is it from?"

Vegeta snapped back to attention. "A very distant one called 'Earth'. " He prepared to break this to his father, ultimately unsure of what the response would be, but he would not explain himself any further than he felt necessary.

There was a clattering sound outside and Nappa growling, "sneaky little bitch" causing Vegeta to turn away from his conversation and rip open the door. Bulma, who somehow had gotten away before the guard reached the private royal wing, was in Nappa's restrained clutches, though he dearly looked like he wanted to squeeze her to death.

"Let her go," Vegeta snapped, before taking her other arm and pulling her toward him, ignoring her cry of pain. "What did I tell you, Woman?"

"You can't just lock me in some room and expect me to sit there!" Bulma hissed. "I've never seen this planet before."

"And if I kill you, you won't see it either!"

"Give me a break…" she muttered, gasping in surprise when he gave her another warning squeeze. He was sure her delicate skin would bruise. Here she was, breaking his every command. He knew he couldn't trust her.

"Oh, do bring her in here, Vegeta…" the King said beyond the door, leaving his son to freeze. "I think I might actually enjoy this."

Vegeta didn't see any point in prolonging the inevitable, so he quickly said, "and where's the brat?"

"He's playing with the bathtub and your weird water system," Bulma answered, still trying to wrench her arm away. "He'll be occupied for hours. And then your goon showed up after I was already out the door. So he isn't going anywhere."

The guard probably didn't notice her power level because it was so tiny and pathetic. He grimaced.

King Vegeta eyed Bulma up and down before looking at his son. Of course, she had no power level to speak of, so he jumped to the most logical conclusion. "A whore? That's your secret weapon?"

Bulma opened her mouth to say something, but Vegeta was reminded of her words with Nappa when they first met and gave her a yank. "She's a scientist." He needed something to impress his father with her, and he almost hated to admit it. "And some of my power is attributable to her… she invents things that can make a Saiyan's physiology more powerful without nearly killing yourself. And…"

"And?" the King raised his eyebrows. "And what?"

She bore me a half-breed.

"I'm the mother of his son," Bulma said, finally freeing herself. Vegeta could see her shoulders squaring, determination in her features. The King watched her with renewed fascination, examining her form again as if he might have missed something. Vegeta didn't like his visual perusal, he couldn't help it.

"Ah…" He looked between them. "A son…a half-caste son then. That lived after birth."

Vegeta understood the comment. His father was wondering why Vegeta did not kill Trunks the moment he was born, as would be the norm for an Elite Saiyan who did not want progeny of mixed blood running around. There was a light of intrigue behind the King's eyes that was growing by the moment.

"Nappa!" The Saiyan Elite appeared at Vegeta's side in less than a moment. "Take the Woman back to my quarters." Nappa went to make a grab for Bulma's arm and Vegeta clamped a hand on Nappa's wrist warningly. "Remember my orders concerning her. And don't let her leave the room again."

"Yes, my Prince."

Bulma actually didn't protest, probably pleased that she had gotten this far without Vegeta being too furious. But she wouldn't let Nappa touch her. "I can walk without your help!" she snapped, before pushing past him, her blue curls swaying as she moved.

"A pleasure to meet you," Vegeta's father called to her, amused that she didn't take her leave of the King at all, like any subject or slave would have to do.

"Yeah, you too!"

When Bulma and Nappa had disappeared, the King looked at Vegeta, still with that intrigue, like he knew something that Vegeta didn't. "Charming little alien. Beautiful. I'm sure you enjoy her. " His eyes narrowed. "But please explain to me how she has lived this long."

"I told you. Her inventions have made me stronger. And my son." Vegeta took another step toward her father, forcing every confidence into his tone. "I discovered something in my travels—that certain half-breeds have more potential than a full-blooded Saiyan." This was near-treasonous to his planet to even utter, but Vegeta didn't care anymore. He knew the truth. "Earthling blood makes the potential particularly potent. When you see my son, you will see what I mean."

The King held up a hand, silencing him. "Something stronger than Frieza, you believe? No. You expect me to accept you here, with open arms, with a half-breed child and the little slut you bred him with? You are a fool, my son. You should have never returned. Do you think I don't know why you came here?"

"Do you understand what I'm saying to you?! That we could come closer to reaching Frieza's power than we ever have if we just discover what this means? I came here because this is my planet! I came here because you are weak, and I need to free us from Frieza's clutches because you have never done anything for our people!"

The King laughed, and now it was bitter. "I've done nothing for our people? For you?" He laughed harder. "My son, you have no idea."

The King's eyes flashed past Vegeta, catching on something behind him, and that was when Vegeta sensed a young, but impressive enough power level. Elite child, at the very least. Vegeta turned and suddenly he was looking into his own image, as cruel as ever, but so much younger. Dark twins with ages between them met eyes again. And rage set itself deep in Vegeta's bones.

"What have you done?" The older prince whispered in a growl, waiting for the inevitability.

"What I've done for you, Vegeta. What I've always done." The King raised his hand and gestured at the Saiyan brat.

"Grandfather," the child inclined his head toward the Saiyan in the chair, waiting for him to explain.

"Meet an heir you can be proud of. Meet your Saiyan son."

A/N: So the King was did something Vegeta certainly didn't know about, didn't he? Haha… There are REASONS and an explanation for this, I assure you. As always, let me know what you think!