Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball Z or its characters, and am merely borrowing them for this Alternate Universe story which begins during episode 71, "The End of Vegeta". This is a Bulma/Vegeta story. The rating is NC-17 for some nice, romantic love-making. There are also, however, some references to torture and abuse in Vegeta’s childhood, but they are extremely vague. If you are under 17 or would prefer not to read anything with sexual situations, please do not go any further. By the way, this is my first A/U story, and I think it may turn into an epic. Please send comments/criticisms to queensaiyajin@aol.com. I love feedback of any kind!

"All right, Kakarot, are you ready to take on a power not seen in a thousand years?"

The fool’s eyes sparked with anticipation. "Bring it on, Vegeta."

With the thrill of battle singing in his blood, Vegeta pushed his ki to that limit that had once seemed impassable—and then beyond. His body burned with the golden energy of a thousand suns as the ground about the two Saiyans began to quake. The gasps of those looking on—the Nameks and humans that had been brought back to life with the dragonballs—told him that the change was complete. Once again, he was a Super Saiyan.

"I’ve never felt such energy!" he could hear Piccolo saying, as the others agreed, dumbfounded.

Kakarot merely stared at him with a grin of excitement. "Now that is cool," he said simply. "You’ve gotta show me how you do that."

Vegeta laughed. "What makes you think you could ever reach this level? It’s not in your blood, Kakarot. I’m the Prince of all Saiyans. This is my destiny."

The other man looked at him with an amusement that was beginning to irk him. "Vegeta, Frieza was right about one thing. You talk too much."

Vegeta glared at him. "Then allow me to show you." With that he threw the first punch into the bigger man’s chest, knocking him fifty yards away. He smirked in satisfaction as Kakarot slammed into the side of a cliff.

In seconds, the clown seemed to bounce back, and it began, a dizzying onslaught of punches and kicks as the two men matched each other blow for blow. He’s good, Vegeta thought to himself, but I’m better. Until now he had only been sparring with Kakarot, knowing that unleashing his full power would most likely kill him. Months ago, he would have relished doing just that. But there was more to consider now. He needed this powerful man as his ally, his envoy to his father to bring word of his ascension and his deeds. And perhaps just as importantly, he knew how much the dumb oaf meant to Bulma. He’d promised her this morning not to hurt him too seriously.

But there was nothing wrong with a good, healthy training bout, he thought wickedly.

An hour passed, and his energy seemed boundless. But he could sense Kakarot weakening, and decided a good energy blast would probably finish him off. To his surprise, Kakarot launched his own attack, and their blasts seemed to meet in the middle, vying for supremacy. With a growl Vegeta pushed it up just a notch…

…and Kakarot lay sprawled on the ground, unmoving.

Vegeta landed before the prone man, just as he opened his eyes. "So, are you still certain you can match my power level?" he asked smugly.

"Not right now," the other man replied as he got to his feet. "But give me a few months," he added, wiping the smirk off Vegeta’s face even as he wiped the blood from his own. "I might even beat you next time."

The audacity of this low born soldier! "Consider yourself lucky that my woman thinks of you as kin, Kakarot," he replied curtly, "or you would live just long enough to regret that challenge."

Kakarot shook his head, knowing all too well it was an empty threat. "Lighten up, Vegeta. Look at it this way. If I get stronger, it’ll be more of a challenge for you. Isn’t that what it’s all about? Pushing our limits to meet every new challenge?"

Vegeta nodded slowly, surprised that Kakarot, in his simplicity, had restated something that had been drummed into his own head as a child. "You may not have forgotten everything about being a Saiyan after all," he said quietly. "Fighting to increase our power is in our blood."

"So is hunger," Kakarot responded, a hand on his stomach. "Do you think we could get some food before we fight again?"

Vegeta smirked. Proving his superiority over Kakarot had given him an appetite as well. "Come. Bulma will have prepared a dinner for us. And then, we have much to discuss."

She greeted them at the door of their reconstructed capsule house, which she had set up just outside the town where Rossdark and his family lived. Her eyes were blazing with anger as she saw the bloodied state of her husband and her friend. "You Saiyans are unbelievable! Don’t you have enough enemies to fight without beating each other to a pulp?!"

"I would hardly say that Kakarot beat me to a pulp," Vegeta responded as she tried to examine a wound on his arm. "Stop fussing, woman, I’m fine," he said, refusing to let her coddle him, especially in public.

"What about you?" she asked the other man. "What happened to you?"

"Well, he beat me," he told her, without any trace of anger. "But I’m okay. Just really hungry."

She had to grin at that. "I guess some things never change," she said, shaking her head. But Vegeta could see that her anger had abated, and he was glad.

"The others have gone back to Rossdark’s house," he told her. "Kakarot and I have some things to discuss. I thought it would be better if we did so alone."

"Good," she said, as she started to pile the table high with food. He knew that she liked the idea of him and Kakarot as allies. Well, she’d actually suggested they could be…friends, but he’d told her that was unlikely. As unlikely as you falling in love with a human woman? she’d teased him. He’d growled at that, and she’d laughed.

She touched him lightly on the arm as she placed a plate in front of him. "When you two are done stuffing your faces, I have a surprise for you."

"I hope…it’s dessert…" Kakarot mumbled as he chomped on a steak.

"Kakarot, could you please learn not to speak with your mouth full?" Vegeta said with an air of royal disgust.

"Oh, sorry…" he mumbled, with a look of guilt as he realized he was doing it again.

Vegeta shook his head at his uncouth companion, then turned to his mate. "What kind of surprise? Another one of your inventions?"

"Yup. I just finished it," she said mysteriously, as she sat down with them. He marveled, as he always did, at the tiny portions of food on her plate.

"Are you sure that’s enough, especially in your condition?" he asked. He realized he must sound like a doting human, but Kakarot was too involved in his dinner to notice.

"I am eating more than I usually do," she assured him. She took a few more bites then pushed the plate away. "I’m full. Let me go get your surprise."

He watched her thoughtfully as she walked into the other room, wondering just how difficult carrying and bearing a Saiyan child would be on her delicate body. A pang of worry stabbed at him, and he fought to conceal it.

Kakarot, however, was more clever than he sometimes let on. "Don’t worry, Vegeta," he said kindly, though his words were garbled by the food in his mouth. "Chichi had a kind of rough delivery, but she and Gohan came out of it just fine."

He turned sharply towards the bigger man, ready to tell him that he wasn’t worried in the least, and that he should mind his own damned business—but he knew that Kakarot meant well. The fool had no idea that he had overstepped the bounds of propriety by speaking to him in such a manner. And he was continuing to do so!

"I know it’s a little scary…becoming a daddy for the first time—"

"Kakarot!" he yelled finally, his scowl deliberately covering his embarrassment. "I am afraid of nothing! And would you please stop talking with your mouth full like some barbarian! How can I send you to Vegeta-sei as my envoy when you don’t even know the first thing about table manners!" He turned, flustered to see Bulma giggling at him as she held some sort of device pointed at him. "What the hell are you laughing at, woman?!"

She sat down across from him, reaching for something on his shirt and then showing it to him. "Well, for starters, this piece of spaghetti hanging on your shirt while you were yelling at Goku about his table manners."

His face flushed as he realized that in his hunger he’d made a slob of himself in his own way. "Anything else?" he asked tersely as she fidgeted with the controls on her device.

"I was just proud of myself for capturing a real Kodak moment," she said, trying to suppress her grin. "Now maybe you can see for yourself how obnoxious you get sometimes." He had no clue what this woman was talking about, and opened his mouth to speak, silenced as she pointed to something on the table.

It was…him. Or rather, a three dimensional holographic image of himself. Suspended as if in air, he realized it was coming from the device in her hand.

Even in the hologram he could see the spaghetti fall from his mouth and onto his shirt as he spoke. There was a pause, and then the smaller version of himself was looking straight at the camera. He could hear her soft laughter in the background, as he shouted,

She was right. He did look and sound pretty damned obnoxious. But he wouldn’t admit that to her, at least not in front of this imbecile. "What is this, exactly?" he asked quietly.

"A holographic video camera and projector," she said proudly. "Poppa had been working on something like this, and I thought that if I could modify it, it would be a great way for you to speak to your father without actually going to Vegeta-sei. You could even show him your transformation to Super Saiyan, in case anyone questions it."

He grinned at her openly. "This is unbelievable! Woman, you never will cease to amaze me."

"Yes, I know," she said with a smile. "I told you—beauty and brains in one package…"

He had the sudden urge to take that package into his arms right now, stopping himself only as Kakarot’s voice reminded him of his presence. "All the more reason why you should be a little nicer to her, Vegeta. If I ever talked to Chichi that way, she’d kill me!"

"Kakarot!!!" he boomed with warning.

"Calm down, Vegeta. You and Goku have plans to make. I need to get some rest. Do you think you two can keep from killing each other while I go lie down in the other room?"

Vegeta grunted, but there was worry in his eyes as she left the room. He watched her pensively then turned to the other man. "You said your woman…had a difficult time." It was humiliating to think that he was about to confide his concerns to this lower-class soldier. Yet no one else in the entire Universe could possibly have Kakarot’s insight as to the dangers of a human woman carrying, and delivering, a Saiyan baby.

"She wanted to have the baby at home. But when the time came, the last few weeks were really bad for her. I made her go to a hospital. It was the best thing. She lost a lot of blood. If the doctors hadn’t been there, she might have—" Kakarot’s voice trailed off, both at the undesirable memory and the look of panic that must have come into Vegeta’s eyes.

"This blasted planet doesn’t have advanced medical care! They’ve barely begun their Industrial Age! Saiyan babies aren’t meant to be carried full term! That’s why they’re removed to be grown in Incubators—"

"They must have been born naturally at one time," Kakarot said. "Saiyans couldn’t have always had advanced technology."

"They were," he said darkly. "But only the strongest women survived the birth process. And Bulma is not a Saiyan woman. That baby could—" He couldn't even voice the horrific possibilities that had come to his mind, of his son literally ripping through Bulma's body... He closed his eyes, breathing deeply to contain the emotion that had swelled within him. Only Kakarot's voice brought him from his silent fear.

"Dende. "

"What?" His eyes lit up as it hit him. "His healing power!" Then he frowned. "But the brat won't be born for months. Isn't the Namek boy going back to Earth with Piccolo?"

"I'm sure he'll stay for a while if you ask him to. After all, if it weren't for you and Bulma, none of us would have been wished back to life."

Vegeta just grunted. He wasn't sure if Kakarot knew that Dende had already healed him from the brink of death once, after having refused to do so at first. The boy remembered how Vegeta had been responsible for the deaths of countless Nameks. Why would he go out of his way to safeguard Vegeta's wife and child?

"I'll ask him to stay if you want," Kakarot told him, sensing his doubts. "We all will. No one wants to see anything bad happen to Bulma. And with Dende here to heal her if something goes wrong, she'll be fine."

Vegeta wished he shared the other man’s optimism. "I should have taken full responsibility for the wishes," he murmured, cursing himself. "Then at least Bulma could have gone back to Earth and gotten the proper care."

Kakarot grinned at him dubiously. "Do you really think we would have gotten her to go back without you? We’d have to drag her off cursing and screaming, and believe me, it would not be a pleasant ride home!"

Vegeta had to smirk at that. He could hear his woman now, and could imagine her knocking them all out and taking control of the ship herself. In truth, he would not have been able to let her go. He wouldn’t trust anyone to protect her and the child. Kakarot’s intentions were sincere, but he’d seen today that the other Saiyan could not match him in power.

"She’s strong, Vegeta," Kakarot told him seriously. "She’ll be fine."

He nodded silently. He knew she was strong. The strongest woman he had ever known. "All right then, we’ll ask the Namek boy to stay. Now, there are other things you and I have to discuss."

"Yes," Kakarot agreed. "You have to tell me what to expect when I go to Vegeta-sei."

Kakarot had voiced the question so succinctly, but the answer would be much more difficult to put into words. "With Bulma’s device, I will record a message to my father. Your job will be to make sure it gets to him personally, and that he watches it."

Kakarot looked at him slyly. "Something tells me that’s not going to be as easy as that."

"You are the son of a low-born soldier. An audience with the King would normally be nearly impossible. But your father, Bardock, gained a great deal of respect in the years before the destruction of our world. He was not an Elite, yet he fought like one. You will seek him out, and he will gain you access to my father." Perhaps that in itself would not be a simple task. But Kakarot’s next question left him utterly at a loss for words.

"And what can I expect when I get to your father?"

Twenty five years ago, Vegeta would have known the answer to that. But the man he had known, feared and respected, had betrayed him. He had sold him into bondage to Frieza out of…what? Fear? Weakness? Desperation? "I—I’m not sure," he said simply. "I was only a child when I last saw him."

"How old were you when Frieza took you from him?" Kakarot asked gently.

Anger welled in him, at the audacity of this low-class soldier to ask him something that was so…personal. The pity in the bigger man’s eyes was humiliating, and served only to exacerbate the rage that so delicate a subject still engendered. "My personal history is none of your business, Kakarot!" he said sharply.

"I’m sorry. I know it must have been bad—"

"Bad?!" he roared. "You know nothing, Kakarot! You could not in your worst nightmares conjure the hell that I have lived through, and if you value your life, you will never speak of these things to me again!"

The other man nodded, though it irked Vegeta to see no fear in his eyes.

"I do not know how my father will receive you," Vegeta said after a calming pause. "It has been over twenty years since our planet’s destruction, yet they will have returned to life as they were back then. They might not even know how they were brought back. It will be your task to tell them." He breathed deeply, his pride swelling with a multitude of other emotions as he said, "I want you to tell my father that I was the one to kill Frieza. I want him to know that I was

able to do what he could not." What he was afraid to do.

"I will," Kakarot said solemnly.

"And tell him that in a year’s time…I will be back to take my rightful place."

Bulma wasn’t sure she’d heard him correctly. Take his rightful place. As Prince? As King?

They had never discussed their life beyond the year that they were bound to this planet. The thought of never seeing Earth again, her parents, her friends, was…disturbing to say the least. Yet the thought that he might go off to Vegeta-sei alone was even worse.

These thoughts drew her into a troubled sleep that ended when she felt him slip under the sheets. He kissed her lightly on the forehead as he wrapped his arms around her. He was warm and naked against her, and she wished she could forget the things she had heard tonight. She sighed against his chest, snuggling against him. For a long while they lay like that, until the burden on her mind compelled her to break the silence. "Vegeta…" she whispered, looking up at his face.

His eyes were already open, and she could see that his own thoughts had kept him from peaceful sleep. "What is it?" he asked softly, though she could see in his eyes that he probably knew.

"What…do you plan on doing…when our year here is over?"

His face grew dark, defensive. "What do I plan on doing?"

She realized at once that her slip of using you instead of we had unintentionally hurt his feelings. At least she knew he wasn’t planning on going alone. That was good. "I couldn’t help but hear you telling Goku that you would be taking your rightful place. I was just wondering how I fit into your plans."

His eyes softened as he realized that he had misunderstood her. "Bulma, I have a destiny to fulfill. A duty. My people need me to lead them. And I…" He paused, the expression of sentiment still difficult for him. "I need you, woman," he said in barely a whisper. "You are my mate, and you will be my queen. I can not imagine going to Vegeta-sei or anywhere in the universe without you."

"That’s good," she said, smiling as she laced her fingers around his neck. "Because I wouldn’t let you."

His eyes shone with a relief as she brought her lips to his for a sweet kiss. Yet even as he held her in the darkness she could feel the apprehension that nagged at his subconscious, marring what should otherwise have been a perfect contentment. Please tell me what’s still bothering you… she sent him through their bond.

He tightened his hold on her as a child clutching a toy for comfort. It will not be easy. For either of us. Vegeta-sei is as an alien world to me. Now more than ever. I am not the nine-year old boy who was taken away. But nor am I the monster Frieza created. You have changed me yet again, Bulma. And I don’t know if the man I have become will be readily accepted as the Saiyan no Ouji.

Bulma closed her eyes, resisting the urge to respond verbally, knowing that the fears he had confided in her were things he would never discuss aloud. You are the Saiyan no Ouji, she assured him through her thoughts. And the Legendary Super Saiyan. You brought your world and your race back to life with the dragonballs. No one would dare defy you.

She could feel the doubts he could not even put into thoughts, as he breathed deeply. And she knew that the warnings of the Namek Payson and the dragon had begun to plague him now that

the rebirth of his race had become a reality. The Saiyans would trust him to rule as his father had before him. But to change their way of life, to challenge their tradition of bloodthirsty destruction and domination… perhaps it was a task even beyond the power of a Super Saiyan. Another thought struck her, and she tried to push it down, before it could further complicate things. But he’d already caught it, and responded by kissing her lightly on the hair.

"No one will question my choice of queen," he promised her softly, then vowed, "Anyone who does will have no place in my Kingdom."

"You will be the best King your people have ever known," she said, snuggling against his chest. And she knew that his confidence had begun to come back to him as she drifted off into a peaceful sleep.

"Okay, whenever you’re ready." Bulma gave him a smile of encouragement, and he drew a deep breath.

He was standing in full armor on a mountain outside of town, a spot that overlooked the land below but was distant enough to prevent his energy from causing any damage. He had a show to put on, one which was meant to impress not only his father but the countless advisors and Elites who might see it.

Kakarot had gone back to Frieza’s ship with a holographic message in which Vegeta had demonstrated his new strength, and claimed his victory over Frieza. In a way it had been a dress rehearsal of sorts, for the real thing, the transmission that would be placed into his father’s hands. The fact that the news had been so well received by Frieza’s troops had been encouraging to say the least. Vegeta had proven himself in a short time to be strong but merciful. The men who had attacked Bulma, or threatened to do so, were the only ones who had suffered his wrath. Kakarot had told him that the general consensus, upon hearing the news of Frieza’s defeat, had been that Vegeta would be a far better master to serve than the Tsisu-jin lord had been. Vegeta’s announcement— that the slaves on the ship would be returned to their home worlds, and that any soldier who did not wish to serve the Saiyan King on Vegeta-sei would be free to leave with his share of Frieza’s spoils—had given Vegeta virtual hero status. Dozens of warriors had already pledged their loyalty to Vegeta and the Saiyan Crown, while overjoyed former slaves had already begun the murmurs that Vegeta knew would reach the farthest ends of the known galaxy when they returned home to tell the tale of Saiyan strength and benevolence.

Perhaps it would even begin to silence the tales of horror that the Saiyans had left in their wake, all in the name of Frieza.

Kakarot had found him the best Saiyan armor available on the ship, and shuttled it down along with Bulma’s wish list of tools, devices and medical supplies. With a foresight that surprised Vegeta, Kakarot had even had the good sense to encapsulate a regeneration tank that he’d found in the ship’s medical center. Bulma had nearly shrieked in delight, having heard about the device but never actually having seen one. It had taken her less than an hour to figure out its workings and reconfigure it to adapt to human, Saiyan, or Korwal-sei-jin DNA. Vegeta couldn’t even begin to imagine what advances she might bring to this backwards world in the span of a year.

"Um, any time now!" she called impatiently, bringing him back to the present, and the task at hand. He breathed deeply and nodded to her to begin as he straightened his back and faced the tiny camera.

"Father." He bowed his head in respect, feeling awkwardly like the nine year old boy he had been when he’d last met his father’s eyes. "It has been a long time, Ottousama," he said, making an effort to remain as emotionless as his father would expect.

"No doubt you have met Kakarot, son of Bardock, whom I send as my emissary. He will have explained to you the details of how I brought life to our planet and our people once more. It was I who made the wish on the Korwal-sei-jin dragonballs to restore Vegeta-sei in all its glory. And I therefore am bound to remain on this planet for one full revolution. I dare not leave, for to do so would be a death sentence to our race and our world. I have fought too hard and too long to save our people. I will fulfill my obligation, and return to you in one year’s time to take my place at your side." He glanced into Bulma’s eyes as he added, "And with me, I will bring my future queen, and my heir. As you will learn, she played an instrumental role in the restoration of the Saiyan race, and as such has proven herself more than worthy of the respect of our people." He knew his pride in her showed itself in his eyes, and he fought diligently to keep the emotion from spreading to the rest of his face.

"I am sending this message that you may see for yourself what your son has become. I have fulfilled my destiny, Ottousama." He paused before uttering the words he had waited a lifetime to proclaim.

"I am the Legendary reborn. I am a Super Saiyan."

Drawing on the well of emotion and need that had brought him to this point, he screamed out in victory as his power surged. The power that had surfaced when his woman had needed him. The power that had kept Frieza from defiling the most precious treasure he had ever possessed. It burned in him now with the memory of his rage, his golden aura of strength and pride, blazing in his emerald eyes…

The ground was quaking beneath him as his ki crackled like an electrical storm. He smirked in satisfaction as his woman’s broad smile told him that he’d definitely made his point.

"Frieza is dead, Ottoussama! Dead at my hands, in Hell for all that he inflicted upon us. I have avenged the Saiyan race, avenged you, my Father…avenged myself. I give my vow to you as Prince of Vegeta-sei that I will use this power to defend our people and restore the Empire to its former glory. All I ask is that you have faith in me to do so, and await my return before forging new Alliances such as the one we had with the Tsiru-jin. The Saiyans must not continue on the destructive path that led to our own demise. We must take full advantage of our second chance to achieve greatness without tyranny. The blood on our hands was of Frieza’s doing, and we must not allow it to stain our history from this moment on. We will be respected for our strength and our benevolence towards those we rule. Much has happened in the twenty-two years since Vegeta-sei fell. I implore you to heed my counsel, and trust my insight into this until we meet again, and I tell you all that can not be said in so public a fashion as this."

He breathed deeply as he powered down to his normal state. "I wish you well, Ottousama." He bowed his head once more as Bulma stopped the recording.

The mask he had upheld dropped as she ran to him and threw her arms around his neck. "That was great!" she told him as she hugged him tightly.

He sighed, closing his eyes as he held her close. He was glad to have it over with.

"Do you want to see it?" she asked.

"No." It had been difficult enough the first time. He didn’t think he had it in him to do it over. "I’ll take your word for it that it was sufficient."

She looked into his eyes. "It was more than that. Your father will be very proud of you."

She couldn’t imagine how much those words meant to him, or how deep was his desire for them to be true. "You think so?" he asked softly.

"Yes!" she assured him, sensing his doubts. "You were incredible. Powerful and regal, but wise. An Enlightened Monarch, they used to call them in school."

"Enlightened." He repeated the word dubiously. "On Vegeta-sei, what you call enlightenment could be considered a weakness."

"Compassion is a strength," she told him with certainty. "Look at how the men on Frieza’s ship have reacted to your new policies."

"My father would say I wasted a healthy shipload of slaves by setting them free," he said grimly.

"And is that what you think?" she challenged him.

He thought of Rossdark, his joy of returning to his family, and the unquestioned loyalty he had pledged to Vegeta in exchange for his kindness. He’d won a loyal retainer, and a friend. Vegeta couldn’t remember his father having had any true friends at all. But then his father had never shown a hint of compassion, not even towards his own son.

"I regret nothing," he said, though there were a great many regrets he had in his life. His face softened as he qualified that statement. "Nothing since the night I made you mine." He kissed her smiling lips, thinking that everything had gone right since she had come into his life. Between them, their son’s ki burned brightly. "Come," he said scooping her into his arms to take flight. "The sooner Kakarot gets this to my Father, the better."

It was with mixed emotions that Bulma watched her friends from Earth prepare for their departure to the ship that had been Frieza’s. The last few days had been wonderful, spending time with the people she had known for more than half her life. Friends she had thought lost forever. Once more, the dragonballs had helped to set things right. But everything from this moment on would be uncharted territory. Her life with Vegeta, the birth of their child, and their eventual voyage to Vegeta-sei, were exciting and frightening prospects at once. She had no doubts about the decisions she had made. But the utter separation from all she had loved and known was a big step that she wasn’t sure she could face alone.

But as Vegeta came to stand beside her, his spirit weaving its way into hers to embrace her in a way that he could never physically do in public, she was reminded that she was not alone. Neither of them would ever face another day, another challenge, alone.

"You’ll see them all again," he promised her quietly, sensing her sadness at their departure. "When all is settled on Vegeta-sei, we will journey to Earth to show our son the other part of his heritage." He’d already promised her that they would visit her parents from time to time. Saiyan starships could span the distance between their worlds in weeks.

"I talked to Momma and Poppa again today," she told him. "They want to come visit in time for the baby’s birth."

She watched his face for a reaction, but saw none. She wasn’t quite sure how Vegeta would react to his in-laws. He would probably respect Poppa for all his genius, but Momma could be a little—

"That is good," he replied, breaking into her thoughts. "I know it will mean a lot to you to have them here when your time comes." She could see that it would put him at ease as well. Dende had agreed to stay in case his healing powers were needed, but she had sensed from time to time that Vegeta was still a nervous wreck at the thought of her giving birth in the natural way. On his planet, it just wasn’t done.

"Hey, Bulma!" Gohan called as they approached her for their final good byes. "Did you talk to my Mom? She must be really worried."

"I told her you’re all fine. She can’t wait to see you."

"I’m afraid she’d gonna have to wait just a little longer," Goku said coming to stand before them.

"What do you mean?" Vegeta asked with a frown, impatient to see his message delivered as soon as possible.

"Well—" Goku began hesitantly, as if he were afraid of Bulma going off at him. "I was going to head back to Earth first, but these guys had other plans."

"What he means is that we’re not going to let him go to Vegeta-sei alone," Piccolo announced.

"Are you all out of your minds?" she yelled at them. "Chichi will murder you all when she sees you! Goku, you said you’d take Gohan home first."

"I wanted to, Bulma, but the little guy is just as curious to see the Saiyan homeworld as I am." He shrugged helplessly. "And the other guys all came to me after they voted on it. They want to come along."

"We’ve been in this together for too long," Tien said. "We’re all agreed. Goku might need our help."

"You fools," Vegeta grumbled, despite the fact that his errand would be carried out even sooner now. "Kakarot can take care of himself, and even his kid is stronger than some Saiyans. But your fighting powers are nowhere near theirs."

"Will they be in danger?" Bulma asked her husband. She could see the frustration on his face of not knowing for certain what they would find. What he would find, when he eventually made that journey.

"I don’t know. It’s difficult to say—"

"Even more reason why we should go," Piccolo responded.

Bulma shook her head. "Chichi is going to have a fit. I don’t envy you having to tell her."

They all stared at her wordlessly, a sheepish grin on Goku’s face.

"Oh no, Goku. You’re not going to make me do it—"

"Come on, Bulma, please?" he begged.

"Maybe you could tell your dad," Gohan suggested, "And he could tell her—"

"You could always get Master Roshi to do it," Krillin said thoughtfully.

"What kind of cowards are you that you’re all so afraid of a woman?!" Vegeta broke in in disbelief.

"You don’t know my Mom," Gohan confided. "She’s really strong—"

"That’s for sure," Krillin added. "When she’s mad, she can be even scarier than Bul—"

Bulma shot him an icy glare, and his face reddened.

"That is frightening," Vegeta said dryly, and the laughter that ensued all around seemed to break the tension.

Finally it had been decided. Goku would command the ship back to Vegeta-sei first, stopping briefly on the way at the two or three slave worlds to fulfill Vegeta’s promise to Frieza’s captives. He would then make a present of the ship to the King, deliver his message into the king’s hands, and use a Saiyan ship to shuttle his friends back to Earth. Goku seemed pretty certain of his ability to protect his friends, but Vegeta recorded a message of introduction for them all anyway, providing them with whatever security codes he remembered to allow them access through the planetary defenses.

Bulma was watching from a distance as Vegeta privately gave some last minute advice to Goku, when suddenly Yamcha stood next to her. She felt guilty for the way she’d been avoiding him. The last time they’d spoken had not gone well. She had let out years of frustration with him at a time when he was really the one who was hurting. After all they had shared, that hadn’t been the way to end things.

"Yamcha, I’m sorry," she said simply.

He nodded. "Me too. You know, as much as it hurt to hear it, and to see you with him—you were right. I didn’t treat you like I should have. But I always loved you. I still do. I just want you to know that."

"And I loved you, Yamcha. I still care about you. But—it’s different now."

He was looking into her eyes, and she felt she would cry. He was being totally honest. He had loved her—the best he knew how. He would never understand that it hadn’t been enough. That she had needed more. That she had found more. "Bulma, just tell me one thing. Do you really love him? I know how hard it must have been for you to be alone, but now that Earth is restored—"

"Yes," she told him with certainty. She didn’t want him to go on, to try to rationalize or analyze something that was an immutable fact.

"Okay, then," he replied, his eyes filled with unshed tears. "I guess there’s nothing else to say, then. I hope…you’re happy, Bulma."

"You too, Yamcha." She reached up tentatively to kiss him on the cheek, and for a brief moment he hugged her, the sum of all they had meant to each other passing through them in that last farewell embrace. And she knew that they had come to a mutual forgiveness, and understanding.

"I’ll always be there for you, Bulma. I’ll always be your friend," he said softly as he released her.

"So will I, Yamcha." And she meant it just as much as he had. Until this moment she hadn’t even realized that she’d needed some real closure on her relationship with him. But now that they had it, she felt truly at peace.

She knew even then that Vegeta would not understand what she’d needed to do, and as she had anticipated, he was silent as they went back to their little capsule house after the others had departed. She’d known that no matter how engrossed he had been in his discussion with Goku, he wouldn’t have missed her brief exchange with her ex-boyfriend. She had to admit, though it made her feel foolish, that she found his jealousy sweet. Though jealousy, like all other emotions, was something he had trouble admitting out loud. He’d still spoken little when after dinner he announced that he was going to the gravity chamber to train.

"Do you want to talk first?" she asked.

"I have nothing to talk about, woman," he said abruptly, then left.

She found him brooding silently outside, looking into the night sky as if searching for some familiar speck. He started as she came up behind him, slipping her arms around his waist.

"Woman, I told you there was nothing to talk about," he snapped.

"Come on, Vegeta," she purred, "This is silly. I know what you’re upset about, but you shouldn’t be—"

Gently but firmly he detached her hands from his body. "I said leave me alone!" he growled.

The tone in his voice startled her into a realization that perhaps she should not have taken his jealousy so lightly. When he turned to her, there was a wild rage in his eyes that he had never directed at her before. "Vegeta, it was really nothing," she began.

"Don’t tell me it was nothing! I saw you kiss him—"

"On the cheek!"

"He laid his hands on you!!"

"It was just a hug!" she cried. "No more or less than I gave Goku, or Krillin—"

"And you think that’s acceptable behavior for a future queen?!" he roared. "How am I to convince my people of your worthiness to be their queen if you allow every man to touch you as if you were a common—"

"Stop it!" she cried angrily. "Finish that sentence and you won’t have to worry about whether or not your people find me worthy—you’ll be going back alone!"

If her anger didn’t startle him, her words did. For a moment, hurt flashed in his eyes, but it quickly turned to fury. "Why, did your boyfriend convince you that you’d be better off going back to Earth?!" he sneered.

"He’s not my boyfriend, you baka! And I had every intention of going to Vegeta-sei until you said that I might not be ‘worthy’ to be your wife!"

"That’s not what I meant," he growled, seething. "You seem to think nothing of dishonoring me in front of others by allowing that human to touch you. Do you enjoy this, Bulma? Seeing me lose all rational thinking in a jealous rage? Is this some way of testing my feelings for you?"

"N-no," she said, shocked at what he had just admitted, and even worse, what he had accused her of doing. She cursed herself for ever finding his jealousy in the least bit sweet. She’d taken it all too lightly because she knew she would never betray him. But the intense emotions that were so new to him would not allow him to differentiate between a harmless gesture and something more. She stepped up to him, touching his cheek with her fingertips. "I’m sorry. I didn’t take your being angry seriously because… I didn’t do anything. It was just a good bye. I hadn’t handled things well with Yamcha. No matter what he’d done to me in the past, that was no way for him to find out about you and me. He and I have known each other for years, and we’ll always be friends. We just had to clear the air before he left. The hug, the kiss on the cheek—was nothing. Just a good bye. Just an ending. The way it should have been done in the first place."

His hand covered hers, and he closed his eyes with a deep sigh as she brought her lips to his. She kissed him tenderly, relieved when he responded, running his fingers through her hair.

"I love you," she whispered between kisses.

He didn’t need to speak his love aloud. She could feel it reaching out to her, wrapping itself around her in all its intensity. The unconditional love and incredible joy she brought him walked hand in hand with a desperate fear that something so beautiful and pure could be taken from him as easily as it had become his. All the evil I have done…I don’t deserve such happiness. The gods will take it from me as swiftly as it enveloped my soul. And I will be lost…

No… she thought, and she could feel his embarrassment that she had heard his thoughts. That she had felt the nagging fear that had plagued him from the moment he had realized what she meant to him, a fear born of loss of everything that he’d ever given a damn about in his life. The rage he had felt over her embrace with Yamcha had played upon his own insecurities, his fear that now that they were safe from Frieza and their worlds had been restored, she would yearn to return to all those she loved…That their time alone had been an idle fantasy that would not stand up to the reality of the galaxy around them…

She looked into his eyes, seeing the same swirl of emotions that had flowed from his being into hers. "Do you still love me as you did on Namek?" she asked softly.

"Why do you ask the obvious, woman?" he said in a hushed whisper, his love burning brightly in his gaze. She said nothing, waiting for an answer, watching his expression turn to one almost of anguish as he bared himself to her, voicing the thing that made him both the strongest and most vulnerable being in the universe at once. "Yes, I love you!" he rasped. So much so that I would go insane if I ever lost you…

"Oh, Vegeta," she sighed, tears in her eyes for the unnecessary torment that his newfound feelings brought him. "You’ll never lose me. Never! I love you more than my own life," she said, her voice choked with emotion she wasn’t sure was his or her own. She took his hand and placed it gently on her abdomen, where the physical proof of their love lay sleeping. "Every time you look at him…just remember this is what our love made."

She could feel his relief intermingled with pure wonder as he looked from her eyes to the place where their son lay nestled. Then he was holding her, his face buried in her hair as he clung to her for safety from his own internal storm of emotions. His fear for her, for the baby, on this backwards world…A Saiyan child should never be carried full term! Saiyan women had died giving birth…how could he be sure she would survive? What could he possibly do to safeguard her? And what would happen when Kakarot delivered his message to his father? Would his people accept an alien queen? Would Vegeta-ou? Was he endangering her and the child by bringing them into a situation that was fraught with so much uncertainty?

Bulma’s head began to spin from the onslaught of his concerns and fears, anxiety mixed with indignant despair that no matter how strong he had become, there were some things still completely beyond his power to control. He had everything he had worked a lifetime to achieve, and so much more that he had never even imagined possible…but it could all be lost in more ways than he dared contemplate. She held him tightly, trying to soothe him with her caress, comfort him with her thoughts. But it occurred to her suddenly that rational thought was slowly slipping away from him, just as his precarious control of his emotions had been failing…

"Vegeta, let’s go inside," she said softly in his ear, his embrace seeming to tighten at the suggestion. "Come on, let’s lie down together, and—"

She gasped as the hand that had been stroking his back gently came to his tailbone, and felt the undeniable protrusion that had not been there before.

His tail was growing back.

Images of Goku as a boy when he’d made his transformation into the Oozaru flashed through her mind, and with them a stab of sudden fear. She’d never seen Vegeta transform, but had heard the stories from Krillin and Gohan. Uncontrolled, he could easily wreak havoc on the planet. Even his hold on her now, innocent and begotten of his love for her, had begun to feel uncomfortably tight. He might crush her without even realizing it. But why was this happening, why?!

The answer lay over his shoulder, in the rising full moon that had begun to ascend while they had been on this hillside. Kami, they have a moon!! Why hadn’t they realized it, why hadn’t they done something to prevent—

A low growl began to grow in his throat, and she knew they had to avoid the one thing that would send him over the edge. "Vegeta, listen to me! You’ve got to let go of me! We have to get inside! Now!"

The alarm in her voice shocked him from the spell that had begun to fall over him. She could feel him snap back to lucidity as he realized himself what was happening to his body. With real fear in his eyes he released her, growling, "Go!"

"Vegeta, what about you?! I can’t leave you alone out here!"

"Go, Bulma!" he hissed, gritting his teeth against the excruciating pain. She could feel his anguish, both physical and emotional, as his eyes burned into her with a primal desire that the last remnants of his rational mind were struggling to repress in fear of what he might do to her if she came too close. But she couldn’t leave him like this, not in this pain. She had to help him…

"Vegeta, listen to me!" she said in a commanding voice. "You have to come into the house. As long as you don’t look up at the moon, you won’t transform. When Goku was a child he only transformed when he looked directly at the moon!"

"It’s different, woman!" he cried in exasperation. "I’m a man, and I’m bonded to you. The moon awakens uncontrollable need…desire…" A disobedient hand reached out towards her of its own accord, and he pulled it back before it could touch her face. "Bulma, please!" he begged her. "I don’t want to hurt—aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhh!"

He collapsed in pain, writhing on the ground as his tail burst through his skin, a horrendous explosion of blood, sinew and fur. She ran to him, heedless of his warnings, knowing only that he needed her. He wouldn’t hurt her. Of that she was certain. She knelt by him as he gasped for air, drawing ragged breaths as the agony subsided. "Bulma…" he whispered in a gravelly voice.

"It’s okay, Vegeta. It’s okay," she soothed him, running her fingers through his hair. She fought the instinct to examine the wound where his tail had broken through, remembering his sensitivity there. Slowly his breathing eased and his efforts to push himself up gave way to exhaustion. "Rest," she said softly. And he did.

The blinding light of day pervaded his blissful dreams and drew him regretfully to the waking world. The midday sun was high in Korwal-sei’s blue sky, and he blinked in confusion as he wondered wildly how long he had been asleep. The vivid dream had left him painfully erect, and the memory of the primal desire that the moon had evoked sent him into a sudden panic. Bulma!

He turned his head and breathed deeply as he saw her lying on the ground beside him, sleeping peacefully. Only then did he realize that her tiny hand was on his arm, still clutching at him protectively even in her sleep.

She’d begun to stir as she’d sensed his movement, and looked at him now with sleepy eyes. "Are you okay?" she asked with worry. She looked exhausted, and he was sure she’d had very little sleep as she’d kept her vigil over him.

"Foolish woman," he said softly, but with such tenderness that she could not possibly mistake. "You should not have stayed here all night. It’s cold and the ground is damp."

"I told you to come inside, but no—" she complained as she sat up with effort. He stood up and scooped her into his arms, raising his ki slightly to warm her in its glow. She leaned against his chest tiredly, closing her eyes. "I told you once before that I can’t sleep unless you’re next to me," she yawned.

He carried her inside, placing her gently on the bed, then sat watching her for a long moment. She opened her eyes. "What?"

He paused, trying to put into words what he had been thinking. "I…I could have hurt you. Or—"

The thought was too horrible to even voice.

"You wouldn’t have," she said softly, with utter certainty. "I just wanted to make sure you didn’t look directly at the moon. I think the trauma of having your tail break through like that probably just knocked you out. Luckily you didn’t wake up until after the moon had set."

There was so much she didn’t understand about what the moon could do to him, but for now the mad urges that had come over him were under control. He lay down beside her, taking her into his arms and hugging her to him. Just her touch seemed to calm him. Perhaps it had been his link to her that had kept him from total madness.

"I’ll check out the moon’s orbital data later," she said sleepily. "Then we can…figure out…" She was asleep before she could finish her thought.

He wasn’t tired. His mind was racing with thoughts and questions as he wondered just how the growth of his tail would affect his power levels. It had occurred to him from time to time that his people might see him as less than Saiyan without the appendage that identified their race. It was good to have it back. He wondered idly if the genetic mixture of Saiyan and Human would result in their son’s having his features, his strength. He remembered that Kakarot’s son had had a tail before Vegeta himself had cut it off in battle…

The touch of his woman’s body, pressing more closely against his, pulled him from his reverie. He smirked as he realized the reason. His tail had unconsciously wrapped itself around her, cradling her against him, as if it knew better than he what he really wanted right now. There would be time to test his powers. A year, in fact. He kissed her forehead gently, and closed his eyes.

It would be a very interesting year indeed.

* * * * *