"Boom!"

By Pearl

June 12, 2006

A/N: And now, for the much awaited sequel to "Papa"…..

Disclaimer: Though I have often daydreamed of what it would feel like to actually own Vegeta, Bulma, Trunks, Goku, etc…I don't. So there. Hmph.

From the first moment he had ever laid eyes on her, he knew that she would most definitely, absolutely, without a doubt, be trouble. Any other threat, he could take. But she was freakishly cunning. Oh sure, she may be only a year old, and her cheeks were all chubby and cute and made you want to squeal despite the fact that you know it was very immature to do so.

So when he had picked her up, he vowed to never be swayed by her baby gurgles that made her irresistibly "kawaii". He had heard his mother use the term so often it had some how integrated itself into his vocabulary. It was a good thing his father couldn't hear the way he exclaimed the fluffy word to his baby sister. He would die of shame!

Or rather, his father would kill him in shame.

Whatever.

Being ten was quite the monumental point in the demi-Saiya-jin's life. He gained new privileges (such as staying up past his 10 o'clock curfew), and was allowed to train at any time of the day (as opposed to when dad said so). Trunks was even allowed to stay at home, sans mother, grandmother, and grandfather, and baby-sit the little tot that currently clung to him. Oh joy, what an honor.

"Isn't it past your bedtime?" The rough, low voice of his father caused the blue-eyed Prince to jump. Clad in his Capsule Corp. pj's, he blushed as he scratched the back of his head. The flame-haired man before him scowled slightly as he observed his only son using a habit that was very Kako-marked (or trademarked for those who didn't really care).

"Well, yeah, but I heard Bra fussing so I came in to check on her," he stated setting the chibi female back in the crib that he had used years ago. "I see," muttered Vegeta, stretching his arms lazily over his head. "I suppose you better head on to bed. I'll stick around with her. We wouldn't want your mother to start fussing me out because you woke up late for school."

Trunks grinned up at his father, catching the classic hint of exasperation. His parents had been arguing with each other over everything and nothing since they first breathed in each other's presence. But he knew—that was just how they fell in love. Screaming, bickering, throwing things…it all amounted to the nearly unbelievable family they had created.

"Ok," he replied, rubbing his eyes as his thoughts sifted away. "She should get to bed soon. Mom said something about her missing her nap or something."

Vegeta snorted, flicking aside a stray spike of hair that had defiantly wiggled its way from his perfect flame. "It's amazing that she didn't miss this business trip because of that."

Smirking, Trunks picked up Bra's favorite teddy bear that had fallen from her grasp. "Yeah, I thought she would stay at first. That or have Gramma and Grampa stay." Both Princes rolled their eyes at the same time, making a tiny little girl giggle from her crib. Vegeta turned, walking towards the wooden frame to get his second brat to sleep.

"Boy, bed!"

"Alright Tarzan, alright! G'night Dad."

" 'Night boy."

Once his son had left the room, Vegeta crept back towards the door, listening for the soft 'pat' of footsteps to enter their respective room. Twenty-three steps, one door shut, eight more steps, the shift of covers, and finally, silence. Nodding at the rare case of first-time-obedience in his son, the Prince returned to the little angel that still refused to close her eyes.

Big, blue eyes stared up into ebony ones. He blinked down at her. Wasn't she the least bit tired? In all reality, Vegeta was more than willing to admit that he was, indeed, getting old, and wanted very much to head to the soft comforts of his bed. "What are you? An insomniac?"

Baby Bra only stared at her father, finally breaking out into a four-toothed grin, two on top, two on bottom. She giggled and clapped her hands as he 'beeped' her nose.

"You do realize that I would very much like to go to bed. I'm old. I train all day. Have you no compassion for your old man?"

Again, Bra giggled, this time stretching out her arms to be carried. Vegeta let out a soft sigh, reaching down to pick up the already spoiled baby. "Of course it doesn't bother you much now, does it? You can sleep whenever you want. Dear old dad can't. He's got a world to protect you know."

Heh, here he was, talking to his one-year-old child, who probably, in all honesty, could care less. But looking at her painfully reminded him of his mate—blue hair, blue eyes, porcelain colored skin. He held her even closer in an attempt to lull her to sleep.

Approaching the rocking chair that he had used many sleepless nights to rock Trunks to sleep brought back many memories. The Prince smiled slightly as various images of diaper changes, colds, diaper rashes, and feeding times flashed before his mind's eye. And now, well, he was mercifully allowed to witness it again.

He couldn't believe the difference between what his life had once been, if one could even call it a life, to what it now was. A wonderful family, a more than comfortable home, a gracious lifestyle, and his precious GR…this indeed was something close to heaven. But as he continued the back and forth motions on the rocking chair, he could only wonder just how long it would last.

Peace never seemed to last forever on Earth, right?

The shifting of the energetic toddler he held shook him from his thoughts. She continued to blink up at Vegeta, eyes wide and without the slightest hint of sleepiness. "Can't you talk yet?" He muttered, vaguely aware that he was, in essence, treading the same deep waters he had already been in with Trunks.

"You aren't gonna call me 'Papa', are you?"

And like all Briefs-Ouji children, little Bra was smart. Her long lessons with her mother over simple words like "Yes," and "No," and "Mama," had stuck. Bulma had, after all, wanted to be the first word claimed by her little baby. But even the genius President knew that she still had to teach Bra just what Vegeta's name was to her.

"BOOM!" Bra exclaimed, clapping her chubby hands together. "NANI?" Vegeta held her arms-length away, wondering what the hell she was going on about.

"Boom!" She stated again, this time pointing a chubby finger at his muscled chest. The Prince's eye twitched as he muttered something about "Insane Earth Women" under his breath.

"Great. I'd rather go for 'Daddy' or 'Papa' right now," he growled, placing the giggling child back on his knee. She continued to grin her bright grin, chubby cheeks puffing up in just the right way to make Vegeta cringe. "Look, let's try something more respectful, hm? Papa," he said, firmly, pointing to himself. He knew it was useless to get her to say "Father," and "Dad" wouldn't come till she was about Trunks' age. Might as well keep the name he was used to responding to.

Bra's smile eased into a look of concentration, if that was possible for a one-year-old child. Which, knowing who her parents were, it was quite possible.

"Pa…" she huffed out, yawning briefly before continuing, "..Pa."

Vegeta held his breath. Could it be possible that this child would not turn into the smart ass that his son was?

"Papa!" squealed Bra, earning a bright grin from her father. "YES!" he hollered, dancing around the room with the happy baby.

The sudden flooding of lights into the dimly lit room made the dancing Prince freeze mid-jump. He turned his head to the side to see his sleepy son, ruffled hair, puffy eyes, and all, look at him with that 'what the hell?' look he had definitely acquired from the male parental unit.

"I don't wanna know," he muttered, closing the door behind him, going back to his room.

The flame-haired Prince, who had defeated countless enemies, destroyed thousands of races, and obliterated hundreds of planets, only managed to let out a nervous laugh. With the now drowsy baby settling in for a comfortable sleeping spot on her father's shoulder, he walked over to the crib. Vegeta gently placed her down in the old, wooden pen, whispering a "Goodnight Princess," before walking out of the room.

He flopped onto his bed, not bothering to shower or change out of his clothes. Instead, sleep claimed the Prince, and dreams of ways to rub this monumental event into the Onna's face flooded his night

…And also ways to get rid of all the planet's males. Soon his little Bra would be old enough to be as beautiful and as exotic as her mother. Nobody would be good enough.

Not for his little Princess.

Until Next Time, Ja Ne!

Pearl