Oh dear, this update has taken quite a while! At least me updating will give anyone who had given up home some comfort that I do intend to complete this!

If you have completely forgotten what has been happening, you could go back to Chapter 30 Absorption (which was a time jump to when the androids arrive) and read from there, otherwise, to summarise the last few chapters:

The androids and Cell all arrived at the same time. Future Vegeta and Trunks arrived a few hours late but just in time to help with Cell. Young Vegeta arrived back from space with Ara and Seria in time to make a dramatic entrance. Young Vegeta tried to take down Cell, but thanks to Eighteen who managed to get herself absorbed, didn't succeed. Bulma managed to convince Cell to delay his destruction of Earth and hold the Cell Games instead. The Z Fighters came up with a plan to use the hyperbolic time chamber to train. Young Vegeta and Seria were supposed to spend the longest in there but at the last moment Trunks swapped with Seria. Young Vegeta and Trunks are now in the chamber together.

The crash of a slamming door from the adjoining dining room behind her made Bulma jump, her flailing arm knocking her coffee cup and spilling the hot, brown liquid all over her notes of the new set of armour she was designing. "Shit," she muttered, grabbing a cloth to mop it up and save what she could.

When the culprit's footsteps stomped towards the kitchen she threw a glare in that direction. Vegeta entered - Future, she assumed since her Vegeta should have been in the chamber by now. He looked about as happy as she was, and she pushed away the instinct to blow up at him.

"That little shit traded places with Seria," Vegeta growled out, making his way to the fridge and yanking out a three litre bottle of juice. "When he gets out I'm going to throttle him."

"Trunks?" Bulma asked, even though it was obvious. Vegeta didn't care about anyone else enough to be upset by what they did.

Vegeta took a swig of the juice straight from the bottle, then sat down heavily onto one of the barstools next to her. "I don't know what he was thinking. Younger me won't hold back. He's just as likely to die in that chamber as he would facing the androids alone."

Bulma raised an eyebrow at that. "You - younger or older - are not going to kill your own flesh and blood." She started wafting a couple of wet pieces of paper in the hopes that they would dry and she'd still be able to see her notes under the stains. "Trunks will be fine."

Vegeta scowled in response. "Well, young me sure as hell won't put up with any crap from him."

"Why do you think he wanted to train with him, not you?" Bulma asked, moving her papers to lay them out on the dining table to dry. "It's obvious he adores you. I would have thought a year's training time would have been exactly what he wanted with you."

"I assume he's meddling in your relationship again." Vegeta stood up and went to the coffee machine. He picked up a mug and wiggled it in the air in question.

"Yes, please." As if she'd ever turn down Vegeta's barista quality coffees. Besides, he owed her a new one. "But I don't see how him training with Vegeta is going to help. If anything it will probably scare him off wanting to stay and be a father."

"Actually training is how I figured out how to do the… father thing." Vegeta started on the machine and waited for it to stop screeching before he continued. "Until we started training, I didn't have much - well, anything at all - to do with him."

"Why not?" Bulma asked, hopeful that she might get some insight into her own baby daddy's thoughts on parenthood.

Vegeta frowned as he poured their coffees, then slid hers over to her. "I think I was afraid..." he said, staring into his cup from the other side of the bench. "Afraid that I'd taint him somehow. That everything evil about me would rub off on him."

"But you stayed."

Vegeta shrugged. "The idea of not being here and something happening to him - to you - outweighed that fear." He took a sip of his coffee and when he put the mug back down, gave her a smirk. "I see now I had nothing to worry about. The precocious brat is all you and nothing like me."

"Like me!" Bulma snorted. "You wish, buddy. That boy is your very own mini-me - right down to the scowl." She laughed at Vegeta's expression. "Yes, that one."

"Whatever, woman. If he makes it out of the chamber alive I'm going to kill him myself."

"Don't worry about Trunks," Bulma said, reaching across the bench to pat Vegeta's hand. "I bet he's having the time of his life in the chamber."

Trunks had begun to realise that he'd made the worst mistake of his life.

Not only was the younger version of his father completely ignoring him, but his training was not going well. He and his father had always trained together. And when they went into space, he'd trained with Seria as well. But Trunks had never actually trained alone.

He hated it. Not only was it boring, just hitting the air without the satisfaction of crashing against a target, but there was no challenge without an opponent. He'd never get strong enough to help defeat the androids at this rate, and even worse he'd never convince young Papa that it was a good idea to stay on Earth if the man wouldn't even look at him.

Vegeta didn't seem to be having the same issues. They'd been here a month and Trunks could feel how much the man had improved. Vegeta seemed to do the same thing every day. Wake up, eat, then walk out into the depths of the chamber, where the air was so thick Trunks could barely stand, let alone train. Vegeta trained all day, before returning for a meal and then sleep.

Trunks had tried to do the same, but he got too hungry and needed to return for at least one full meal, plus some snacks. And if he was being honest, that far out away from the living quarters, the chamber was scary. The gravity grew heavier, and the white mist disorientated him, and even though he thought the chamber was inside, strange weather patterns seemed to take place, violent storms with lightning as strong as ki blasts.

Still, if his training wasn't going well, and his father from the past wouldn't train with him, he supposed the chamber itself made as good an opponent as any.

The next day, Trunks made up his mind. He packed a back and filled it with food, then trekked out into the chamber, in the opposite direction he'd seen Vegeta go earlier.

The further out he got, the more he felt the gravity weighing on him. His steps began to feel sluggish, and he needed to take deeper breaths to keep going. Thanks to the white fog swirling in hypnotic patterns around him, he couldn't be sure of his direction, but he knew from previous excursions that the heavier the air got, the further away from the center of the chamber he was.

Thunder grumbled around him, shaking the ground beneath his feet. He contemplated stopping where he was, but the distant flashing ahead gave him an idea.

After what felt like another half hour of trudging on, the mist final broke to reveal a spectacular lightning storm. Flashes of blue, green and gold hit the ground, the static making the hairs on his arms stand on end.

Trunks dropped his backpack on the ground, and watched the lightning, trying to discern some kind of pattern to it. The strikes seemed to be random, and anywhere from three to seven seconds apart, but Trunks could taste the air change slightly before each one. It was metallic, a little like the taste of blood on his tongue.

He powered up to Super Saiyan, letting his own ki surround him in flashes to rival the lightning. He experimentally shot a blast at a shard of lightning hurtling down in front of him. The resulting explosion made a deafening boom and sent Trunks skidding backward.

With a grin, Trunks stepped into the lightning field. Finally, a challenge that was sure to help him get stronger! Using the subtle signs the lightning gave off - the static electricity and the odd taste in the air - to calculate where and when each strike would hit, Trunks began dancing around the field, firing at each strike before it touched down.

The explosions rocked the chamber, but Trunks met the lightning high enough in the air for them not to do more than ruffle his hair, or at the worst make him stumble. It was exhausting work though. The combination of the heavy gravity, thick air and inability to see with the constant flashes that blinded him had Trunks soaked in sweat and gasping for air within an hour.

It was definitely time for a snack break, he decided. But a lightning bolt slashed the air in front of him, landing before he had a chance to stop it. Trunks gasped at the close miss and staggered back, but another strike immediately landed on his right. They'd been less than a second apart. With a sudden sinking feeling, Trunks realised he couldn't see his backpack. Couldn't see the edge of the lightning field.

Exhausted, and with no idea which way to go to escape, Trunks desperately shot at the strikes boxing him in. One by one they barreled towards him as if he were their target, and one by one he stopped them.

Until he didn't.

It moved too fast, and approached from a blind spot to his left. Distracted by a large green bolt in front of him, he caught sight of it too late.

He felt as though he'd been sucker punched by a force greater than anything he'd experienced. Burning heat flooded his body and instead of getting brighter, it was as if the chamber faded before him, his vision dulling.

And then, suddenly, his sight returned and he was lying on the ground, pins and needles pricking his body. He didn't move, couldn't even blink as the next strike hit millimeters from his head.

This was it. All those years surviving the androids and he was going to die because of a storm!

He opened his mouth to scream, to wail at the injustice of it, but nothing came out, and all he could do was watch as a giant golden beam arced towards him, ready to do its worst.

The last thing he noticed before the world faded away, were warm hands scooping him up, a rough voice cursing his stupidity, and the oddest feeling that he was going to be okay.

Bulma didn't look up at the sound of her lab door opening, too busy looking at the components inside the breastplate of her armour prototype. "Can you pass me the needle nosed pliers?" she asked, assuming the intruder was her father. They appeared in her peripheral vision but when she took them she saw Ara's green-brown hand wrapped around them. "You don't have fingernails," Bulma said, using the pliers to move a resistor into place. She internally chastised herself for blurting that out so rudely, but it wasn't every day she had an alien in her lab. Okay, it was an everyday occurrence but Vegeta didn't look like an alien. Not like Ara did.

Task complete, she looked up to see Ara studying her hand. The woman was much less alien-like than some of the creatures she'd met on Namek - Namekians included - but somehow that was more disconcerting because so was sort of human, but not. She was short, maybe five feet, and carried a huge gun in one hand that managed to make her look even smaller than she was. When Bulma has first met her, Ara had been wearing blue and yellow armour, but now she wore a sunshine yellow dress that matched her hair perfectly. Where she's got it from, Bulma wasn't certain but she suspected her mother had something to do with it.

"No, I don't." Ara's small features scrunched up into a frown. "Seria does though. I never managed to figure out their purpose."

"They are good for picking up small objects." Bulma waggled her own red nails. "And for looking good."

Ara's thin eyebrows lifted - how strange it was that she had those but not fingernails! - and she lifted her gun up effortlessly and dumped it on Bulma's workstation. "I hear you are the best weapon maker this planet has to offer. Can you make my gun as good as yours?"

Bulma's eyes widened at the idea of getting her hands on the alien tech in front of her. She quickly schooled her face to a neutral expression and gave a nonchalant shrug. "I can see what I can do."

"Thank you." Ara stood there awkwardly, as if there was something else she wanted to say.

Bulma waited, fighting the urge to fill the silence. She didn't know a lot about Ara other that what Future Vegeta had said when he'd thought she was dead. They were clearly friends, but they had the same easy camaraderie that she had with Yamcha, and that made her decidedly uncomfortable.

"Did you know I can read minds?" Ara finally said.

Bulma put down the pliers in her hand and twisted to face Ara. She hadn't known what the woman was going to say, but it hadn't been that! She felt her cheeks flame at the idea that Ara might know every uncharitable thought she'd had.

"I have to be touching the person," Ara added, to Bulma's instant relief. "And then I can access their memories."

"That must have made you an asset to Frieza," Bulma said, suddenly realising how a woman who had to rely on weapons had managed to survive in the Frieza's empire.

Ara's face darkened. "Yes. But I…" She purses her lips together as if deep in thought. "It is only you," she said finally, her face crossing with a strangely human expression of embarrassment. "For Vegeta I mean."

Bulma frowned, not sure she understood.

"For both of them. You are…" Her brow wrinkled and she tapped her ear. "It can't find a word that translates… you are their… only."

"So… you aren't going to steal away my baby daddy?" Bulma ventured.

Ara's face remained blank, then she burst out into a laugh that sounded almost like a song. "Oh no! Vegeta is not right for me." She smiled at patted Bulma's hand. "But I may have peered in him mind a few times. I know a bit about how he thinks if you ever want to talk."

With that she began to walk out of the lab.

"Maybe we could…" Bulma cleared her throat as Ara retreated. "...hang out tonight? I have a bottle of wine or two that needs to be drunk."

Ara glanced back, her eyes crinkling into what might have been a smile. "I'd like that."

Bulma was going to kill him. Vegeta stared down nervously at the unconscious boy lying on the bed in front of him. The brat had nearly killed himself, but Vegeta would get the blame. Bulma would say that he should have looked out for him. Should have been training nearby, instead of leaving him to his own devices.

And shouldn't you have been doing that? A little voice in his head accused him. If it had been Seria in here, as originally intended, he would not have let her wander out that far alone. But he had at least been keeping watch on Trunks' ki, even though he hadn't realised he was doing it until he felt it plummet.

Now the kid was injured, and they still had months left in here. What if he tells Bulma? What if he doesn't survive?

Vegeta shook his head. He'd checked the boy's wounds. He had a bad burn on his left leg, scorch marks on his left arm, and a welt on his right shoulder, but it wasn't anything life threatening. At least on the outside.

To his immense relief, the boy began to stir, his eyelids fluttering and a low groan emitting from his mouth.

"Don't move," Vegeta said, placing a hand on Trunks' chest to prevent him from sitting up.

"Wha… what happened?" Trunks slurred his words, his gaze unfocused.

"You were an idiot."

"Oh." Trunks closed his eyes and nodded at that. "Okay."

Vegeta snorted as the boy's breathing fell into the heavy rhythm of sleep. Great. Now he was going to be stuck looking after an invalid.

"Hold on a moment." Chi Chi leaned forward so fast the red wine in her glass sloshed dangerously. "You are telling me you can read minds? And you've read Vegeta's?" She shuddered dramatically. "Was it as traumatising as I'm imagining?"

Bulma, Chi Chi and Ara sat in a cozy reading room on the far side of the house, a coffee table loaded with cheese, crackers, and several bottles of wine between them. Bulma had invited Chi Chi at the last moment, desperately wanting some support in case Ara revealed something she wasn't ready to hear.

At Chi Chi's question, Bulma glanced at Ara, curious as to what the woman would say. The alien sat perched on a plush chair on the other side of the coffee table, wine glass in hand but back ramrod straight as if she intended to get up and leave at any moment.

She didn't leave though. Instead, Ara took a swig from her glass, then placed it on the table before leaning forward.

"Terrifying in parts, but I've seen much worse." She bared her teeth and let out a sharp laugh. "Vegeta genuinely believes he is a monster but he's got nothing on some of the twisted minds that I've had access to."

"So it's true then." Chi Chi took a large swallow of her wine, then topped it up with one of the bottles. "He saved your life."

"I wouldn't have escaped Frieza's empire without him."

Chi Chi glanced at Bulma, one perfectly groomed eyebrow raised. Bulma shook her head at her friend, knowing exactly what was going through the other woman's mind.

Chi Chi ignored her and gave Ara a slow smile. "So you and Vegeta were a thing?"

Bulma groaned, completely regretting inviting Chi Chi even though she'd known at the time that her friend would ask the questions she was too afraid to.

"A thing," Ara repeated flatly.

"Yes." Chi Chi waved her free hand in the air. "You know. An item. Romantically involved. Fuck-"

"Thank you Chi Chi, I think she gets it," Bulma cut her off, completely mortified but also extremely interested in the answer.

Ara picked up a cracker and a piece of cheese then put both in her mouth, obviously stalling. Bulma didn't know the woman very well, but she could tell that she was looking for the right words. Whether that was she needed to translate them or simply didn't want to say them, Bulma wasn't sure.

Finally, Ara spoke. "Vegeta is the closest thing Seria has to a father. She never met Radtiz. We didn't see Vegeta very often, but Seria has always adored him."

"And you and Vegeta?" Chi Chi asked bluntly.

Ara looked decidedly uncomfortable. "When I escaped the World Trade Organisation everyone had to believe I was dead, Raditz included. But Raditz grew to suspect Vegeta. He thought he had killed me. I don't think the idea that Vegeta had helped me escape ever crossed his mind. Before then Raditz and Vegeta were… friends I suppose. And because of me… that was no longer the case." She paused for a moment, taking a sip of her wine. "I also had no one, other than Seria, so when Vegeta checked in on us he and I grew close."

"And you slept with him," Bulma said finally, feeling oddly ill even though she had no right to feel upset about Vegeta's past relationships. He didn't even know her then, and she'd had her own long-term relationship.

"Slept with him?" Ara's eyes closed and she tilted her head as if listening to something. Suddenly she opened them. "Oh! You mean sex." She laughed suddenly, the sound bubbling out of her like overflowing champagne. "No I don't think either of us were interested in that. Protecting one half Saiyan child from Frieza was hard enough. Neither of us wanted to risk another." She shook her head then refilled her wine glass. "Vegeta and I were more than what I understand the word friendship implies, but it wasn't sexual."

Bulma let out a breath she didn't realise she'd been holding. She didn't know why but she was sure Ara was telling the truth. There was something oddly innocent about her, especially considering the life she'd had before Vegeta helped her escape. Bulma took a sip of her own wine, the fruity, slightly acidic liquid sliding down easily, and decided that a change of topic was in order. "What was Raditz like?" she asked.

"Raditz was…" Ara sank back into her chair, letting out a heavy sigh. "He made me laugh when there was very little to be happy about. He could be sweet, but also cruel, and he was the most reckless soldier I've ever met." She laughed sadly and shook her head. "The only reason he survived as long as he did was because of Vegeta and Nappa."

"Was he good in bed?" Chi Chi asked.

"Chi Chi!" Bulma started laughing at the shocked look on Ara's face. "That isn't any of our business!"

"Of course it is. We've all been involved with a Saiyan at some point. Who else are we going to talk to about that. Besides, I'm curious as to why you'd tie yourself to a man like that… unless he was… you know…" Chi Chi gave Bulma a sideways grin. "After all, that's how you ended up knocked up with Vegeta's child, isn't it?"

Clearly someone had had too much wine! Bulma opened her mouth to deliver a sharp retort, but Ara spoke up.

"Raditz was a… competent bed partner." She gave Bulma and Chi Chi a wicked look. "Good enough to go back for more."

"It looks like all three of us have been susceptible to a Saiyan's charms," Bulma said with a sigh. "Damn them and their sexy muscles and stupid bad boy vibe."

Chi Chi snorted. "Speak for yourself. Goku's abs might be sexy but the only vibe that man throws out is 'hungry'. What I really want to know, and only you can answer..." Chi Chi narrowed her eyes at Ara, "is, did the tail get in the way or did it have a special purpose?"

Ara and Bulma, who had both been taking a deep drink from their glasses both choked on their wine. "Oh! Well…" Ara coughed and patted her chest. "It uh… the tail is an extra limb so… it certainly came in handy at times. Saiyan tails are very flexible."

The door opened suddenly, and all three of them went silent. To Bulma's surprise, Future Vegeta walked in with Han, who Bulma had only met briefly, and Goku, as if the three of them had been hanging out.

Bulma couldn't help but let her gaze fall to Vegeta's butt. Or rather, just above it where she knew his tail used to be.

Vegeta took one look at the empty wine bottles and raised his eyebrows. "Are we interrupting something?"

There was a pregnant pause and then all three women burst out into laughter. Laughter that only grew louder as the three men retreated hurriedly.

Trunks sat on his bed, his burnt leg propped up on pillows, and couldn't help but feel rather sorry for himself. He was supposed to be out there training, getting strong enough to beat Cell, and then the androids back home, but now he was bedridden. And the worst of it was it was his own, stupid fault!

The only upside was that despite the grumbled mutterings of "bloody idiotic kid" every five minutes, Vegeta has been surprisingly attentive with his care, checking in on Trunks frequently, bringing him food and water, and administering first aid to his various injuries.

Trunks perked up as the man walked into the room, but shrank back when he saw the first aid kit. Vegeta didn't say a word as he sat in a chair next to the bed then began to carefully remov the bandage on Trunks' leg, a deep frown on his face.

Trunks couldn't help the whimper that escaped at the peeling motion.

"Stop complaining." Vegeta twisted the leg at an odd angle, peering at the wound.

"I'm not," Trunks snapped back, and he closed his eyes tightly, holding his breath his young father poked and prodded the area around the burn. He felt proud of his silence for the next few moments but couldn't help a hiss of pain as the man started applying cool gel to the hot skin.

"You're the one who snuck in here to get the extra time to train," Vegeta muttered. He started wrapping the leg in a new, stretchy white bandage. "I should have just let you deal with the consequences."

"Extra time?" Trunks blinked as the snide comment sank in. Is that why Vegeta thought he'd wanted to train with him? "I didn't swap with Seria because I wanted the extra time... I came because I wanted to train with you." Trunks scowled and crossed his arms, furious at both himself for bothering to come here in the first place and at his young father for making such stupid assumptions. "But you won't even look at me."

Vegeta stilled for a moment, confusion flashing across his face. "Why?"

"I don't know! You're the one ignoring me."

The Saiyan rolled his eyes, then picked up a clip from the first aid kit and fixed the end of the bandage in place. "No…" he said slowly, turning away to pack up the kit. "Why did you want to train with me?"

"Oh." Trunks swung his legs off the bed and stood up, tentatively testing the weight on his leg. "Because I knew you wouldn't go easy on me like Papa does. I felt how much you'd improved after we time jumped. I need to improve that much if I'm going to be able to destroy the androids in my own time."

Vegeta threw him and odd look, then left the room with the first aid kit. He wasn't gone long though, and when he came back without the kit, he stood in the doorway, his black gaze boring straight through Trunks.

"I don't train with others," Vegeta said finally.

"Why not?" Trunks dared to ask.

"Because when I fight I fight to kill."

Trunks sucked in a breath, taken aback. "You… you won't kill me."

"No, I won't. Because we aren't training together."

"Please…" Trunks said against his better judgement, knowing that his father never responded well to pleading. "I need to get stronger. I've hit a wall, I can feel it." Vegeta flinched at his words, and Trunks hoped against hope that he'd made him reconsider. "Training by myself won't help, and if I'd trained with Papa he would have held back too much. Only you can help me."

His young father let out a sigh, then walked out of the room. Trunks sank back onto his bed with a groan, sure he'd just blown it.

To his surprise, a minute later, Vegeta came back in, a glass of orange juice in hand. He passed it to Trunks wordlessly, and when Trunks didn't immediately drink it, he arched his eyebrows in a look so familiar that Trunks felt a sudden wave of sadness as he realised for the first time that it would be months before he saw his father - his real father - again.

"One day," Vegeta said as Trunks lifted the glass to his lips. "I'll train with you for one day. If you can't keep up, you'll leave the chamber."

Trunks set down the juice and the small table beside his bed, fighting back a grin. "And if I can keep up?"

Vegeta remained silent, staring at him unblinking. Trunks stared right back at him, recognising the challenge in his young father's eyes.

Finally, Vegeta clicked his tongue in annoyance. "Then I'll train you."

Trunks finally allowed himself to smile. "Yes! Thanks young Papa, I promise I'll keep up. This is going to be awesome!"

"Sir," Vegeta ground out. "You may call me Sir, if Vegeta is too strange. But you will not refer to me as Papa, Father, Daddy, or anything else. I am not your father, and you should not do your own a disservice by referring to me as such."

Trunks gave Vegeta a mock salute. "Yes, Sir."

Vegeta sighed again, a long suffering sound that Trunks own father often made. "Get some rest. We start tomorrow."

Thanks for reading! If you are still following along on this twisted tale, then please leave a comment to let me know what you thought of this chapter!