Hi everyone! It's Star, but now Lilkyonkyon... whatever. I have a few announcements before this chapter:

1) Whoever has sticked with me this long, I am grateful. This story is dedicated to you!

2) After rigorous editing, quite a few things have changed, so you'll have to reread the chapters in order to understand what's going on.

3) Finally, I will be updating once a week to give me time to plan out what the heck is going on. Yes, it still isn't finished; however, the chapters are three times as long so it'll fly by. Once again, thank you for your patience.

Title: Little Secret

Setting: AU Dragonball Z Universe, where Vegeta is about 12 and Bulma is about 8

Summary: On his twelfth birthday, Vegeta comes across a young Earthling in the rubble of a city he destroyed. He sympathizes with her, and decides, against all better judgement, to take her in and watch over her. He had no idea what consequences would come of it.

Disclaimer: I don't own Dragonball Z, and I'm going to offer up my original characters as collateral.

UPDATE 08/11/2010: No, I am not dead. Neither is this story. There has been even more editing, and I'll have to post chapters as I complete them. There will be a note from me at the top when a chapter is through editing. This one is one of them.

Chapter One

Empty

The sun began to recede over the horizon, surrendering to the winter night. Barren fields reached as far as the eye could see, with the periodic smoldering remains of a body or building adding a sickening flair to the landscape. The stench of burnt and rotting flesh was inescapable, hanging over his head like a fog, as if the blood staining his hands wasn't enough to haunt him.

Snow fell lazily from the perpetually grey sky, blanketing everything in silence. Not a sound could be heard: not the breath of the wind that had quit blowing, nor the murmur of the stream that had frozen long ago. A solitary tree twisted towards the sky, pining for leaves, fruitlessly begging the sun for warmth and light.

He had come during the night, leaving nothing in his wake, painstakingly advancing, systematically killing whatever dared cross his path. There were to be no survivors when he left this quadrant.

He did not know why. It was not his place to know why. He just did what he was told. And he was told to take one of the last strongholds in the human's possession: West City. He was to destroy every building, kill every human within his reach.

This was his birthday present.

He had just turned twelve.

The boy spat on the ground disgustedly, noting the strange twist of fate that had brought him here, to this place. His kind was supposed to be extinct, too, but he had been allowed to live, and now he was wiping out another species. He vaguely wondered if this was a snapshot of the rest of his life, if he would be this alone until the day he died. He could feel the snow in his hair, and he impatiently brushed it away.

Before him, the city was lit up like a galaxy, every light twinkling on while the sun disappeared behind the mountains. From his position on a cliff, he could almost smell the fear of the people—not the fear of death itself, but the fear of waiting for death.

It was something he understood quite well.

Unconsciously, his tail lashed behind him, readying its owner for another bout of fighting. The boy bit his lip despondently before taking to the air, slowly descending into the city, his senses spiking with adrenaline. Soon he could see the streets and homes, bleakly greeting their own demise.

Although they knew he was coming, no one was prepared for his attack. He toppled buildings one by one, decimating the population with minimal effort. His eyes were blurry from fatigue, but he couldn't stop. The snow still came down.

The last building was on the outskirts of town: an office with the title Capsule Corporation painted on the side in bold red lettering. One final ki blast rid the earth of its now-purposeless existence. The boy alighted nearby the charred remains of the building, debris and cinders falling, mixing with the snowflakes to create a black rain.

He had done it. There were no more humans left.

Just like there were no more of his kind left.

The hot tears that he had held back during the slaughter burned his eyes, threatening to fall, but the boy's sheer willpower kept them inside. He had learned to contain his feelings, packing them away in boxes and shelving them to be opened later, in seclusion. His emotions were of no concern to anyone, himself included. It was best that way.

Instead, he chose to spend a moment in silence, remembering his life before Lord Frieza had come and destroyed his planet. He had been beckoned onto the ship and locked in a room, waiting as patiently as a six-year-old could for whatever he was promised; he couldn't remember exactly what. The lizard had told him afterwards it was a meteor shower that had killed his people, and he took the explanation for granted. How could he not have known what had happened? That small metal chamber had blocked out the screams of the dying, the smell of burning flesh, the explosion of his home—

The boy turned sharply, instinctively wrapping his tail around his waist. Through the darkness of a new evening, he could make out the figure of the Lord standing behind him, sneering contentedly. "You have done well, Prince Vegeta."

"Lord Frieza." The boy raised his chin haughtily. "What do you want?"

The alien's leer disappeared after the flippant remark. "Have you forgotten your manners, Monkey? I have gone out of my way to watch your first solo mission, my birthday present to you, and you have the nerve to question me? I command you to bow and thank me for this generosity."

"I won't." The boy spat at his feet.

He was suddenly on the ground, delicately wiping off the blood trailing down his chin and glowering at the alien above him. On unsteady feet, Vegeta rose. Frieza stated again, "You will do as I say. Bow to me." Again, he refused, and again, he was struck down. "I will give you one last chance, Monkey. Bow to me!" The boy managed to raise his head and gaze defiantly at Frieza.

"Princes do not bow to filth."

Frieza snapped. Every lash of the tail was like the crack of a whip upon Vegeta's back. Even so, he would not cry or shout out in pain. The boy clenched his teeth together, squeezed his eyes shut, and took each blow with dignity and honor that one would not see in even the most seasoned of warriors. He knew he deserved it, every bit.

The whipping came to an abrupt halt when every inch of the boy's body was covered in a deep red, staining the already blackened snow around him. A trail of blood made its way from his mouth down his neck, and his eyes struggled to stay open. Weakness could not be shown in front of Lord Frieza.

"Let us hope that you've learned your lesson, Prince," Frieza wheezed disgustedly. Vegeta was too lightheaded to reply one way or the other. Cackling, the alien took to the air, back to base, and the boy finally allowed the darkness of night to cloud his thoughts.

Warmth. It was the first time he felt warmth since landing in the middle of this damned winter. The heat felt wonderful on his aching body, it seemed to actually heal him.

It was healing him. He could open his eyes now, even though the light of the sun was forcing him to keep them shut.

The sun? Vegeta cocked an eye open. He was still outside, still lying in the ruins of the demolished metal dome. Surprisingly, he didn't feel sore anymore. He hadn't been able to move only moments before—

"Hello?" A face suddenly appeared above him, momentarily blocking out the light. He couldn't make out the features; long shadows cast over the face, and the sun was so bright. His muscles tensed, ready to attack.

"Where am I?" he asked gruffly.

"My house. Are you okay?" Vegeta tried to sit up, and was surprised when he could do so easily. Normally when Frieza beat him, he was sore for weeks. He turned so he could face the stranger. His eyes met an odd sight: a female child.

At least, Vegeta assumed she was a female. He hadn't seen that many in his lifetime, but she definitely didn't look like the males he had fought on Earth. Her face was too delicate, her scent too fresh. Her hair was long, and a startling shade of blue.

Vegeta stood up and stretched a bit. He was feeling no pain at all now, no soreness or numbness from the beating. With renewed interest, he looked upon the child. She was young—younger than he was, so it seemed—and was kneeling beside him in the snow, shivering in her nightie against the cold wind. He noticed her fingers were intertwined in a small chain around her neck, as if the necklace was keeping her warm somehow. "What did you do to me?" he demanded softly.

"I gave you a senzu bean. Mom says that they heal people instantly." Her blue eyes filled with sudden concern. "Have you seen my mom?"

Vegeta winced inwardly, knowing what kind of reaction she was bound to have. He tightly announced, "She's not here."

The child's wandering eyes snapped back to his face. "Huh? Where is she?"

"She's not coming back."

"But… but she forgot me," the girl said pointlessly. "She left me here! When is she coming back?"

"She did not forget you," he said aloofly, trying his best to comfort her. "She just… she can't come for you. You can't see her again."

A brief silence did nothing to heal the sudden stab in her heart. She sniffed dolefully as a tear spilled out of her eye. "Never?" she whispered. Another tear chased the first down her cheek, pooling at her chin.

Vegeta could only shake his head and brace for the inevitable change. Her bottom lip protruded in one last attempt to contain her sorrow, but it was futile. A heart-wrenching moan escaped the girl and she crumpled into the snow. "Mom!" she screamed deafeningly through her tears. "Mommy!" Unsure of himself, the boy just stood there, watching gravely.

Her hoarse sobs suddenly tore open a box in Vegeta's mind, the one containing the day of his planet's destruction. Emotions torched him, burning him with their strength and complexity. He could feel all the bitter sadness, the confusion, the regret that had disturbed him since the death of his race, his people, his family.

The long-standing pain was too great for him. Desperate for silence, he shouted, "Stop it! That's enough!" Immediately, the girl stifled her tears and gazed up at him with watery blue eyes, sniffing gently.

"Why are you crying?" she said.

Shocked, Vegeta wiped his face with the back of his fist hurriedly, erasing any evidence of his frailty. "I'm not crying, idiot."

The girl, despite her situation, sniggered. She then snuffled a bit and smiled softly at him, even though her eyes were still red from crying. "What's your name?"

The boy responded thoughtlessly. "Prince Vegeta." He then silently chastised himself for his stupidity. Never give your name to the enemy. He glanced at her warily. Of course, she didn't look dangerous, kneeling in the snow all alone. Vegeta wondered why Frieza wanted all these people dead, but he soon chased those thoughts away. It was no concern of his if this girl died. He didn't care. He was a soldier.

The little girl didn't notice his despondence. "Prince?" she squeaked, her eyes immediately brightening with wonder.

Vegeta sneered inwardly at her eagerness but—on a whim—he decided to play along. She seemed to forget her sorrow when she was distracted. "Prince Vegeta of the Saiyan race," he said sardonically, performing a regal, sweeping bow.

The little girl's laughter rang in his ears favorably, but the sound itself was foreign. He had never heard someone laugh out of joy or happiness. The laughter he knew was more from morbid pleasure, malicious and cold. This girl's was different than that; it was cheering. Vegeta suddenly craved more. "And to whom do I owe this pleasure?"

"I'm Bulma," the girl giggled.

Vegeta straightened and smirked, the closest thing he could muster to a smile. "It was an honor meeting a fine lady such as yourself, but I'm afraid I must be going." With a small salute, he began to march proudly back towards base, hoping it would earn him more laughs.

Instead, he heard a desperate "Wait!" Puzzled, Vegeta halted and faced the little girl. The happiness that she had displayed moments earlier was replaced with anxiousness. "Where are you going?"

For once, Vegeta's voice faltered. According to his orders, he had to kill her, but he couldn't bring himself to, so he was doing the next best thing: leaving her to die. How do you explain that to a child? "I need to go back to base," he finally managed to say.

"You're going to leave me alone?" Even from twenty paces away, Vegeta could tell that she was ready to cry again. It was then the impact of the situation transpired—he had killed her parents. He had become the monster he loathed and feared. What was this child going to do alone on earth? She was the last of her kind, the last human, just as he was the last of his kind. Would she turn into someone like him: fearful, victimized, desolate?

No matter how emotionless Vegeta wanted to be, he could not condemn her to this fate. "I… no. I won't leave you."

He regretted saying that immediately. He couldn't bring her with him. He didn't really care if he was directly violating his orders, but he would have to look after her, keep her out of sight. And how long would she be able to hide? Eventually, she would be found and killed, and one more spirit would haunt his dreams.

Yet as soon as her face lit up, he knew that he would never be able to back out.

"Honest? You'll let me come with you?"

"Not if you're going to keep asking stupid questions."

She sniffed at his arrogant demeanor before rising. "I already got everything I need, so I'm ready to go." The little girl showed Vegeta her wrist, which had a small parcel tied to it. Although he doubted that she had everything she owned in the pouch, he just shook his head. It didn't matter; she'd be killed as soon as she was found on the ship.

He felt a pang of remorse but quickly suppressed it. It was better for her to die with someone than to die alone.

"Come on, let's go." He walked over and awkwardly lifted her into his arms, but she squirmed uncomfortably and said, "I can walk. You don't need to carry me."

"We're not walking. We're flying." Suddenly, Vegeta leapt into the air and rushed off towards base with a burst of energy. Bulma, although she clung tightly to his neck, squealed with glee at the blast of crisp winter air. The boy's eyes darted to her face and she smiled at him breathlessly. For her sake, he smirked back, but inwardly he knew she was too naïve to understand that she would never see her home again.

It was almost eleven o'clock at night when the spaceship was in view. The long flight had worn out the child, and she slept soundly in his arms, cradled against the heat of his chest. As Vegeta hovered above base, he took in the surroundings carefully. Since it was such a late hour, most of the soldiers were out purging the remaining cities. Only two guards were stationed at the entrance, and they were the weakest. The surrounding woods provided dark shadows, enough for him to successfully conceal his presence from the guards.

He also noted that the moon was nearly whole. As a rule, he was not allowed outside when there was a full moon. The last time he had been out, he had transformed into an Oozaru and wreaked havoc on Frieza's men, killing a dozen or so.

For the first time in his life, he was thankful for the rule. Tomorrow was the last full day on Earth before they returned to Ice-sei, so he wouldn't have to leave the little girl unsupervised in his quarters. He hated to think of what would happen to her if he was out purging. What if his room was checked, or what if she wandered outside, in plain sight?

Landing softly a little ways away from the entrance to the ship, he roused the sleeping girl in his arms and signaled for her to stay quiet. She complied and he set her down, in order to sneak towards the entrance. Her eyes watched him fearfully as he crept towards the threshold, and she watched his dark features melt into the shadows with ease.

The same could not be said for her, with fair skin and a shockingly blue head of hair. As Vegeta slowly advanced, Bulma caught one of the guard's attention.

He spoke in a strange tongue to the other, who looked into the darkened forest curiously. He, too, saw what looked like liquid turquoise cascading down from the trees. Then they saw no more. Vegeta had stealthily knocked the two guards out and motioned for Bulma to come to him. Quickly, she ran to his side while he punched in the entrance code and together they slipped through the door.

"Vegeta, were those bad guys?" she whispered loudly. All she received back was a sharp hiss for silence.

As they progressed down the corridor, Vegeta's stride became easier; he could see that there would be no problems getting her to safety. Unfortunately, he had forgotten about the cafeteria. A number of guards were there to gamble that night, playing games of sijea. He cursed the guards in another language for the benefit of the child accompanying him before he addressed her. "Listen," he whispered, "I'll distract the guards while you cross the hallway."

"No, they'll see," Bulma whimpered softly. "I can get rid of them, you don't have to go."

His eyebrow arched questioningly. "What are you talking about?"

"Here, I'll make them go away." Eager to get to safety, Bulma tiptoed to the communication device next to the door and pried open the hatch. After fiddling with the wires inside, she reached something that seemed to suit her. "Cover your ears," she cautioned before crossing the wires.

The alarm blared to life, then went off as soon as she released the wires. At first, the guards were confused, but after exchanging a few words, they ran to the entrance to see what had caused the siren.

She turned to Vegeta and simpered. He could only sniff in reply. If this child was capable of rewiring the ship's system without previous training, she was much brighter than a large portion of the staff Lord Frieza employed. Fleetingly, he wondered what else she was capable of performing.

But there was no time to think now. "Let's get going," he said gruffly, grabbing Bulma's hand and continuing down the hallway. After going through a maze of doorways and corridors, the pair ended up at room 274. Vegeta punched in the room code and the panel slid open. The lights flickered on, revealing modest accommodations: a twin-sized bed and a simple chair in the back, a crooked dresser pressed against the right wall with a glowing digital clock on top, and an undersized bathroom to the left. "Welcome to your new home."

Bulma examined every square inch as she hesitantly made her way into the room. Vegeta followed and the door glided shut behind him. Contented for the time-being, the little girl sat in the chair and pulled the parcel off her wrist. "Where should I put this?"

"Here, give it to me." Vegeta took the pouch and put it in one of his drawers. Bulma watched him interestedly. "If you ever need them, they'll be in here. Put them back when you're done." She nodded and sat back in the chair, unsuccessfully attempting to stifle a yawn.

"Where do you sleep?" she asked. Vegeta pointed at the ground, signifying that they were sharing the room. He then took a pair of boxers from the dresser and locked himself in the bathroom.

The lights suddenly shut off in the main compartment and Bulma involuntarily gasped. The ruffling of material on skin was the only sound she could hear, but it didn't comfort her. She shivered and began to hum to herself, absently rubbing her necklace between her fingers. The metal on the chair pricked her back with sterile coldness. Eventually, she climbed down from the chair and into the lone bed, settling herself between the ragged sheets. It was small, cold, and hard—much different than the one at home.

"Vegeta," she called out softly. The bathroom door opened and she could barely see the Saiyan Prince emerge wearing the pair of boxers. He tossed his clothes onto the chair and frowned.

"What are you doing in my bed?"

"This is your bed? Where's mine?" Again, Vegeta pointed to the floor. She looked mortified. "You can't make me sleep on the floor!"

"Yes I can."

The little girl looked at him sorrowfully, tears threatening to fall. "Please?" He crinkled his nose at her, but realized that she was right.

"Fine, but just tonight," he said, climbing into bed and purposely laying with his back to her. She huddled up, her body against his, and Vegeta instantly tensed at the unfamiliar contact. "What do you want?"

"I miss my mom," she murmured to him.

The Prince was utterly lost. Never having been consoled himself, he did what came naturally to him.

"Shut up and go to sleep," he snapped. There was a lull, and Vegeta began to think that his proposal had worked. He closed his eyes and settled in for the night. At that moment, a soft sob jolted the bed, jerking the Prince out of his drowsiness. "What now?" he asked her, exasperated.

"I forgot my blankie. I can't go to sleep without my blankie." Bulma sobbed again and the bed rattled. "I want Mom." Vegeta unsuccessfully attempted to hush her, and finally he resorted to more desperate measures.

"Here, use this," he huffed as he unwound his tail from around his waist and waved it in front of her. "But be careful, it's sensitive."

"What is that?" she asked disgustedly.

"What? You've never seen a tail before?"

"But people don't have tails! How come you have one?"

Vegeta snorted at her ignorance. "I'm not a pathetic human like you. I'm a Saiyan warrior, and all Saiyans have tails."

"What's a Saiyan?" the little girl asked. He felt her gently take his tail in her arms and snuggle it to her chest.

"I'll tell you later if you go to sleep."

"Mkay." Vegeta heaved a sigh of relief and lay down once again, trying to ignore the warm breath tickling his fur.

"Thank you, Vegeta," she whispered suddenly.

"Just go to sleep." She readily complied, pulling his tail close as she eased off into a dreamless sleep. Vegeta, on the other hand, could only stare at the wall before him. He could feel her eyelashes brushing the tips of his fur and her steady, even breaths made him shudder. Finally fed up, he pulled himself up on his elbow and turned to look at her slumbering figure.

She would have to die eventually. He knew this. It was inevitable that she would die on this ship. Vegeta didn't want to see another life lost because of his actions. It was his fault the rest of his kind was dead, and he couldn't bear to lose another.

He raised his hand, gathering a small amount of ki. It was all he needed to kill a sleeping child. All he had to do was let it go. Release the ki. Then it would be all over.

But he couldn't.

Even though there were endless dangers on the ship, he couldn't betray the trust that she had given him so freely. He had made her a promise, and he intended to keep it.

He let out a small snort, disgusted with himself. He had already grown attached to her, and a full day hadn't even passed yet. Vegeta returned to his former position and fell into a fitful sleep.