Last time: "Easy!" he demanded, holding his hands up, almost defensively. "It goes away after the birth of your first child." "What!? I have to have a baby!?" "What!?" Vegeta's voice suddenly boomed, causing both Bulma and Tomacasa's heads to snap and face him.

*******************************

It took hours for Tomacasa to calm the Saiyan Prince and his pseudo mate to a reasonable talking volume. Neither could, nor wanted to, grasp the idea that he'd laid before them. Them parents together? It was absurd to even think. They hardly could stand to be near one another as it was. True, both had felt the urge to be with the other. But, after learning the reasoning behind it, grew furious at the trick their minds were playing on them.

"Are you both ready to talk?" Tomacasa asked, glaring down at the teens he'd recently pinned to the floor, covering their mouths that had done nothing but scream.

They glared up at him a moment, then reluctantly shook their heads. Neither wanted to cave, but they had no choice. Tomacasa wondered why they didn't want to be with one another, there had obviously been some kind of an attraction. They were so much a like, couples like that didn't just happen everyday. He pondered the idea for a split second that they could be the soul mates from old Saiyan legend, scrolls his non-Saiyan nanny used to read to him before Vegeta was born. He was not allowed to see his real parents unless there was an extreme emergency, for he'd refused fighting, much to the astonishment of all the royals, and his name was changed, his title stripped. The legend, written by a Saiyan much like himself, told of a pair of soul mates that would over come all boundaries and end up together, and remain with an unbroken bond of love beyond death. And the amazing thing about the supposed soon to be couple, was that one was a Saiyan, of royal blood, and the other was alien. The Saiyan who wrote such things was executed within a year of being found out, to write things of that manner was blaspheme. The only reason his scrolls were still around, was that maids, such as Tomacasa's, had stolen them from the Saiyan royal vault and hid them until another like the writer came into being. These readings with the ex-prince were of course in secret, he never spoke of them to a soul, only carried the information, and other things read to him, with him wherever he went.

He shook his head suddenly, after going into a daze. This couldn't be that couple, there was no love. In order for the legend to come true, Vegeta would have to admit, if only to himself, that he was in love with her. And he only way Tomacasa would know that information is when and if the bite mark on their necks never faded, at all.

An irritated puff of warm air on Tomacasa's hand brought him back to reality.

"No yelling," he demanded, picking himself up to his feet and taking a seat on the couch. "Now why don't you want to be together?"

"He's su-"

"How c-"

"Its my t-"

"Shut yo-"

"SILENCE!" Tomacasa screamed, sending a threatening glare their way. "One at a time." He turned to Bulma. "You first."

"Think about it," she huffed, crossing her arms. "Would you want to spend eternity with that?" She wrinkled her nose disgustedly and turned her head away from Vegeta.

"Watch it w-"

"Vegeta, if you don't bite your tongue this instant, you'll be at the Saiyan reunion!" His mouth slowly closed, an angry glare seeming to burn holes through Tomacasa's skull. "Continue," he said, motioning to Bulma.

"I'm waiting for you to answer me."

"No, I would not want to spend eternity with him, but that's me, not you. What do you want? And don't think about the anger right now, the confusion, or anything else. Just..just listen to the strongest feeling you have." He was going to say 'Listen to your heart,' but a painful memory of speaking of love in the presence of Saiyan royals flooded his mind. He may have had a temper to combat Vegeta with, but, deep within him, he wanted what any ordinary being wanted. Love. To love another and be loved the same way in return. Though he had not found that being to claim as his own and spent the remainder of his eternal years with, he still wished for it. He never voiced himself around Vegeta, of course, his heart was too set of being a warrior, a well-breed, high-class, instinct-following Saiyan. There was no room for love in his mind, and no use for it for that matter. It just seemed weak to him, but Tomacasa understood where his feelings on the subject came from. He couldn't help it that they were raised differently. Hell, he wasn't even raised by his parents, or even Saiyans. He was useless in their eyes; therefore his Saiyan up-bringing didn't matter. He learned his natural born heritage from books and scrolls in the Saiyan library, a dusty mildew covered old dungeon room that only a handful of Saiyans ever stepped foot in. They hadn't the time for such things. But, being different from all the others, Tomacasa spent most of his time there. Studying, learning, indulging in the heritage and ancestry of his people, whom he greatly despised for many reasons. But they were still a fascinating race. He knew things about the Saiyan race that no King or Queen in centuries knew. He'd read every damn book in that place, every scrolls, every words ever written down and forgotten in that room. It was his sanctuary, it was his life. Which is probably why at his home on earth, he had one of the largest libraries in the world, collecting every book he could get his hands on. By trade he was an antiques dealer, one of the best on the planet, though he strictly remained anonymous to the public. Only the most renowned collectors and dealers knew his name.

Flashback: (Tomacasa is 16 years old.)

He'd just spent the entire night in the library, finishing an enormous leather bond book. But there was still so much knowledge for him to acquire. His parents, along with the rest of the royals, were attending a party in honor of a well-accomplished purge mission, conducted souly by the new crowned prince. His first ever. The party was dying down by now though, he assumed, so he wanted to quickly make it back to his room so to avoid confrontation with anyone he wished to steer clear of. He was known for doing that, avoiding everyone, suppressing his power level so that not even his father or mother could locate him. They hadn't the faintest comprehension of the extent of his true power, even he couldn't fathom its magnitude. But then again, he'd never really tried.

"Tomacasa," his maid said sweetly as he entered his chambers, bent on getting a reasonable amount of sleep before his scheduled "re-training" secession with his master in the morning. He hated those things with a passion. The only purpose of them was to try and change his mind about his path in life, try and turn him into the warrior he did not wish to become. In all honesty, the reason behind his distain for fighting was his passion for life, all life. As soon as he'd been old enough to realize what his father wished of him, with all his training secession, he spoke his mind. Weeks later, his mother was pregnant with Vegeta. Tomacasa had "died" on his premier purging mission. The kingdom mourned his death for one day, had a burial, and forgot his name. He was never allowed out of the boundaries of the castle's walls, so why not make up a believable lie?

"Yes Tsukiyama?" he replied respectfully, bowing in his own manner of greeting, something he'd read up on, an alien custom galaxies away. And oh did he love learning of alien races. Sometimes he would take month long trips to other planets, simply to read in their master libraries. Some planets, however, had several separate kingdoms, several rulers, so there was much more history and many more libraries for him to visit. Some planets had books and scrolls and tablets from other planets in other galaxies, sometimes galaxies only the ancients of their societies had been to.

"Been in the book room again, haven't you?" she asked playfully, her voice holding a slight chuckle. She was a lovely being. Powder violet skin, deep blue hair that reached the floor when not pulled back, silvery eyes, and a few features that somehow connected her to the Saiyans. Her tail, a deep violet furry appendage, and her fangs, contractible mating tools. One of her great great great great ancestors had had Saiyan blood. The other part of her heritage was Ulmakina, a peaceful race inhabiting a planet in their solar system with a peace treaty with Planet Vegeta, one of very few.

"Where else would I go?" the young Saiyan asked, raising an elbow slightly. "The training quarters?" It was his turn to laugh, something he was not used to doing, unless in the company of his maid. And even then he was quite uneasy about allowing himself to feel such away. He couldn't let his opinions on the Saiyan society be voiced, his parents would be furious.

"Your father wishes for a word with you after the gala." Her tone held a note of apprehension, a hint of motherly concern.

"About?" He tried not to sound nervous, though the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end.

"I'm not sure. Only that he said it was of importance. Did you free prisoners again?"

"No mama," he sighed, recalling the grim cadaverous faces of the captured aliens in the basement dungeons. No being should be subject to anything so cruel. He almost wished he had freed them, his punishment had only been three months probation from the library and extra re-training. He would have to consider that.

"So, my little Saiyan wonder," she said sweetly, coming up behind him and placing her hands on his shoulders, leaning forward to see his face. "What wonderful lost information did we learn this time?"

"Did you know that three hundred years prior to now the Saiyan Queen was a half-bred Saiyan? She never bore a child though, so the blood line was not tainted."

"Is that so?" Tsukiyama hummed, giving his shoulders a quick squeeze before she went about her duties in the room. She needed to prepare him for his talk with his father, dress him in formal Saiyan attire. "What became of her?"

"Well, the King found out her origin soon after their marriage and had her beheaded."

"My," she gasped, holding her hand of her mouth. She really wasn't all that surprised that the Saiyans would do such a thing, but it was still a shock nonetheless. "Did he re-marry?"

"Tsurki, of course." He smiled at her, enjoying the way her face lit up at the sight of his brief happiness. She truly was an amazing beauty, a trait passed on to her daughter, a girl whom Tomacasa had grown rather fond of. "Where is Yasuko? I thought she was here today."

"Oh right. Well, I think Isoshi is planet side, so she won't be visiting," she said, paying more attention to her tasks than the conversation at hand.

"Oh," he sighed, bowing his head. Isoshi was young Yasuko's love interest, but Tomacasa was interested in Yasuko for love. They'd been the best of friends since as long as he could remember. It only made sense to him that they should end up together, but then Isoshi crash-landed on Planet Vegeta and Yasuko nursed him back to health. Their romance blossomed over a period of six months. Tomacasa had cursed the so called intruder up and down, feeling he had no right to take her from him after he'd been with her for so long. Well, not actually with her, but he certainly knew her better than anyone, save her mother. That was two years ago and still Tomacasa was bitter. But he never gave up hope for his lost love. He would have her some day, and they would be happy, he was sure of it.

"Was there something you needed her for?"

"No, just to meet with her. I haven't seen her in months."

"Well, she is a busy girl, with her studies and all. You know that."

"I know.." She didn't look up at him, her mind in another place, busily preparing things. But if she had, she would have seen the shield of hurt covering his deep onyx orbs. Tsukiyama had no comprehension of his feelings towards her daughter. The time they spent together was cherished by him, as her, though in entirely different ways. What he wouldn't give to hold her. Hold her the way Isoshi did. That loving protective hold that cannot be broken by but only pull at the arms. He wished for nothing more than to embrace her that way and be embraced by her with such loving force. If only his mouth didn't parch each time he opened it to speak his truth. "When do I meet with him?"

"After the gala, my boy, like I've told you." She patted him lovingly on the head, messing up his silky black hair some. He paid no mind to the action though, she would fix him up before he left the room. "Now, hold your arms out, I want to see how this goes for you."

"Miss, I'm to wear the wretched thing whether it compliments my colors or not. Please, just let me dress and be on my way. I wish to do some business before we meet."

"Business?" she questioned, handing him the dark blue spandex suit, placing the somewhat heavy chest armor at his feet. She'd always insisted they remove the shoulder guards; they were silly to her, looked like wings and weighed him down.

"Yes ma'am. Business." He ducked behind a semi-transparent screen, removing his clothes and pulling on the tough stretchy spandex outfit.

"Of what kind?" She sat herself in a chair before the screen, where she always waited for him to approve of his attire.

"My own kind," he answered quickly, avoiding the truth. He came out from behind the screen, grabbing the bulking armor and slipping it on over his head. Tsukiyama tossed him his royal necklace pendent, though he wasn't recognized as the crowned prince, he was still required to dress as him in meetings with the King and/or Queen.

"Tomacasa," she said sternly, placing her folded hands on her knees. "You are not to leave this room until I know your business."

"My business is my business lady. Please, let me keep it as such."

"As your pseudo mother," she said, standing, grabbing his attention with her narrowed brows. "I have all the right to know where you go, your business, and your company. Now sir, unless you wish to not visit your bookery, I suggest the information is mine right quick."

"I love thee good mother nurse," he whispered, kissing her cheek. "But my business is not for you to know just now."

"Tomacasa, I demand y-"

She fell towards the floor, missing its hard surface by a mere inch as a hand pulled her limp body upright against his. He'd struck the base of her neck, rendering her unconscious so he could go about his things uninterrupted. The prisoners he would free, his lady he would rescue from the iron hands of Isoshi, and a ship he would steal, bringing him and his happy love to a new world. He would not go to his father, he would not say farewell to his nurse. He wrote her a letter, explaining all he was to do, and left it on her bed stand.

He hefted off the molded armor, throwing it aside and taking his packed bag. He had only an hour at most to carry out his task. Freeing the aliens would be no trouble; it was hardly a slight challenge to his wits the first time. Capturing the unaware mistress would prove only a bit more difficult; force might have to be used. But she would understand, he knew that. She must know his true feelings for her; he spoke of love to her on several occasions, staring deep into her aqua marine windows to her soul. The ship, that would be the challenge. The docking area was heavily guarded, only authorized personnel were aloud entrance. Not even he could go into the hanger, for royalty he was not recognized for. After he was behind the controls it would be a breeze. He'd located a small, secluded planet a galaxy over, few inhabitants, a brief home until a more permanent one was found.

"Good-bye my mother," he said kissing her forehead lightly. He couldn't bare the pain of leaving her, but this he must do. If not, his fate would be sealed as a has-been prince of a murderous race, bound to love a mated woman.

End Flashback:

Tomacasa blinked several rapid times, sensing sudden movement before his eyes. Bulma, the aqua-eyed beauty, stood before him, snapping her fingers in front of his face. Her fire reminded him so much of his Yasuko, and especially her eyes.

"What's wrong with you?" she spat, snarling at the alien man before her. "You just blacked out for five minutes."

"Sorry milady, I was thinking."

"Milady?" She arched an eyebrow at him. "What?"

"Tomacasa, what's with you? That language was lost with our planet. Leave it buried," Vegeta growled warningly.

"It was a language on this planet as well my brother. I wish to resurrect it some day."

"Stop talking like that. We have more important matters than prattling on about the way you want to talk and what the hell made you go blank. I don't care. Just find us a way out of this."

"Its quite simple," he sighed, pulling back from the teens, leaning against the nearest wall. "Since neither of you wish to be together, your bond can easily be broken."

"How!?" Bulma burst, jumping slightly with excitement.

"Well, in Saiyan matters, both couples would have to find alternate mates, and quickly. Within a few days of the biting. But, seeing as one of you is alien, Vegeta is souly responsible for finding a mate in place of you."

"I will not mate!" Vegeta spat, curling his lip and wrinkling his nose at the idea.

"Unless you wish to die or be bound by this lady, then I suggest you acquire yourself a new mate by the end of the present week."

"I said stop talking like that. We aren't in the kingdom anymore! Besides, you never had any right to use such formal words! I was the crowded prince of Vegeta, not you!"

"I was Prince Vegeta eight years before you!"

"That's your fault, Tomacasa! Not mine! You were the moron who dared to disrespect and denounce the Saiyan race all for the purpose of your stupid feelings! So don't complain to me!"

"Wait a minute!!" Bulma shouted, jumping in between the alien brothers. "What the hell are you two talking about!? I thought he was Tomacasa and you were Vegeta, Vegeta."

"We are," they answered in unison.

"I was born to the name of Prince Vegeta of Planet Vegeta," Tomacasa sighed, not wishing to re-enter his previous memory.

"Then how come you're Tomacasa now?"

"It's a long dreadful story milady, one of which I'm sure you're horrible little self would not want to be bored with."

"Don't be so damn sure of yourself!"

"Well, in that case, I do not wish to give forth my memories to you. They are my own and I wish to keep them as such. Vegeta may, if he chooses, tell you his own recollection of the situation. Though, I assure you, he will leave out much that will leave you quite confused. I suggest you not hear the tale at all, for you will become addicted and want to know much more, and that is something he cannot provide for you and something I will not."

"And why is it so hard for you to just tell me? All I want to know is why you aren't considered the Prince of Vegeta when you were at birth."

"You are quite certain that is all you wish to attain from my wisdom?"

She nodded, glaring slightly at him. He was really starting to aggravate her.

"Alright then, I'll give you the short cut. But, remember, I warned you. You will want to know more." He paused, then motioned for the teens to follow him into the dining room, just a few doors down the hall from where they stood. They did as requested, grumbling of course, and all were soon seated at an enormous oak dining table in a lavishing decorated room. The deep brown of the glazed wood complimented the rich green of the walls and chair cushions. "Are we listening?"

"Yes," she groaned, propping her head up with her hand, her elbow resting on the table in a very unladylike manner.

"Ok then." He looked at her, seeing for a moment a flash of Yasuko's beautiful face. How he wished to be in the same room as her, smell her flowery scent, gaze upon her gorgeous silky locks of royal violet hair. "When I was born, my parents were the King and Queen of Planet Vegeta. My birth name, as I've told you, was originally Prince Vegeta. I lived out exactly eight full years with that name and title, all the while training with my father and various trainers. I was becoming more and more powerful with each training cession. But then, when the day came for my first purging mission, I was horrified beyond belief and what I was made to do. My father came along with me on the trip, as he did with Vegeta on his eighth year as well. It was tradition..We landed some eleven hours after departing from Planet Vegeta, a small secluded yellow planet with extremely advanced technology called Ereskaian. I..I was not fully aware of my duties until only moments before we stepped off the ship..My father, he..he told me to kill any being I saw, brutally, for that's what he favored most. Then I was to steal anything of value from the deceased's homes. Men. Women. Children. Elders. Kings. Queens. All were to be destroyed, and most by my hands..After the first hundred or so I couldn't look at their faces anymore..But he forced me to, he forced me to kill without mercy, kill all I could until I could not any longer. I was to do only that in life and do it with precise and accuracy. He said it was an art and skill, something the finest warriors only dreamed of. And we were born with it naturally! What a horrible fate for a whole race of beings to possess!.." He looked towards the tabletop, starring blankly at his hands, hands which had killed hundreds of innocent unprepared beings. "..After that day, I swore to my father that not another being would be slain by my hands. He, of course, grew angry with me, screaming over and over again about how disrespectful I was, how disloyal to the race, how weak..When we arrived back on Planet Vegeta, I was stripped of my title and name, having it changed to that of which I possess now..Death was not an option for me, as I was soon to learn. I was too powerful a Saiyan to be killed off like cattle..They tried, up until the day our planet was destroyed by Freiza, to change my mind. I was forced to attended re-training cessions designed to brain-wash me into believing that what Saiyans did was right..Obviously none of that happened, and on the day of explosion, Vegeta was not of the planet and I barely escaped..I found him years later and brought him to Earth, finding its inhabitants humble and worthy of life.." He stopped there, feeling he had nothing more to say on the matter. Bulma simply starred blankly at him, not wanting to admit to herself that he was right, that she did in fact want to know more, much more. What his life was like up until then, what he went through, what the palace was like, everything that she knew he left out on purpose. But she dared not open her mouth and ask him, he would tell her what he told her before, that he would not tell her more. That it was his information, that she had no right to know or even ask.

Bulma opened her mouth and narrowed her brows.

"I told you you would want to know more."

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----Chapter 10!!! Woohoo!! I'm finally getting into this damn fic again! Took me long enough, eh? Heehee. Well, hopefully the next chapter won't take so long. How do you Tomacasa's story so far? I have more for it, about Yasuko and stuff. And, of course, Bulma and Vegeta will be in it much more. And Goku and Chi-Chi, we need to check up on them, don't we? Heehee. Hope you liked what I got done.

REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Next time: More of Tomacasa's story and some B/V action :P