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Princess

By Aiko "Kitty" Skywalker

Vegeta lay his head back heavily onto the pillows of the large living room sofa at CC. Stretching leisurely, he yawned heavily, turning onto his side, relaxing as though the sofa were a bed. Knocking the television remote off the sofa, he smiled as the batteries crashed out as the backing broke off. Smirking, he couldn't help but feel as though he had accomplished something, finally ending the mindless dribble that his son would watch on the television.

His son, the brat. Vegeta cared for his son, but would never be caught dead admitting it. But he often found him sheltered, weak even, as his whole life his mother has spoiled him. The brat could be agitating sometimes, no scratch that, completely annoying, no scratch that again, he could be so annoying that he could push almost any human to a suicidal point.

Which was all the more reason why he didn't want another child. He had been careful with his wife after her pregnancy with Trunks. Heck, Vegeta had even started wearing protection (like it did much). Who wanted another brat after Trunks anyways? He liked stupid television shows that rotted the brain and numbed every fighting sense and Saiyan instinct in the boy's body for Dende's sake!

But don't get him wrong; he really cared for his son. He would sooner die than see anything happen to him. But frankly, how could the Prince of all Saiyans admit something like that? Well at least in the human's way of admitting it. He trained the boy, took care of him, raised him to be something other than just a 'lil momma's boy like he was sure his wife would love to make him into. The boy had been trained, he was lean, he was mean, but yet he had that polite streak to him that scared Vegeta. You would think that after Vegeta had told his brat that Kakorotto and his brats were third class Saiyans and that Vegeta and his son were royalty, first class, that Trunks would want nothing to do with them.

Nope, he had, cringe, his mother's heart. The stupid boy was best friends with one of the third class Saiyan brats of Kakorotto and was good friends with the other. Frankly he could handle the boy's laziness in his training, he could handle how annoying he was, but when he becomes best friends with Vegeta's enemy that was the final straw.

If it weren't for the fact that Saiyan blood was limited these days and he needed descendents (plus his wife's nagging) he probably wouldn't have anything to do with the boy.

That's why he didn't want another. Careful is as careful does, that's what everyone always told him. But of course, Vegeta plus being careful equals another dimension. The words Vegeta and careful should not be used in the same sentence. So of course, after fourteen years of having one annoying brat around the woman was pregnant with another.

Dende help them all was all Vegeta had managed to say.

But then an idea managed to concoct itself in Vegeta's head. This time he wouldn't screw up in the kid's raising. Even though there was a new Son around (this time Kakorotto's brat's brat) he wouldn't let the brat go anywhere near the stupid Son brat. He would spend his time training the new boy, constantly, teaching him the ways of the Saiyans as well as he had the other boy but, Vegeta hoped, he could be more persuasive this time, maybe manage to teach the new boy that Kakorotto and his family were stupid third class Saiyans that Vegeta's family shouldn't have anything to do with.

Yes, the more he thought about it the more he was looking forwards to the new baby. Once you get through the months of diapers and midnight feedings it would be good. This time Vegeta would have a prime child that would be a perfect Saiyan specimen, just as he had once been.

But once again Vegeta found he was disappointed with his brats. It was a…a…a…a girl. A girl? What the heck was he supposed to do with a girl for Dende's sake? He probably couldn't even train her how to do simple combat, let alone tell her the rituals of Saiyan mating and that difference between what they were, first class Saiyan royalty and Kakorotto's family, third class Saiyan scum.

Somehow he felt that Dende had screwed him again. He was probably laughing right then, looking down on them, rolling on the floor with Mr. Popo beside him, laughing until his sides burst. Hmmm…bursting Dende's sides seemed like a good idea… Even today, three years later, it still seemed like a good idea sometimes.

Life screwed him again.

But that was until he held her for the first time. Although he had been reluctant to do so, his wife nearly threw the baby into his arms, eventually fed up with his lack of fatherly instincts. Wasn't he at all interested in holding his baby girl? To tell you the truth at that moment he realized that he had been spending all his time concentrating on what he wouldn't get with her than what he would get.

Just by looking at the brat he knew she would be like her mother, down to the blue wisps of fuzz on the top of her head and the sparkling blue eyes. More than likely a ditz in her youth, a, what did humans call it? A boy magnet? No that wasn't right. What was the saying? Ah well, who cares, it just some stupid human saying anyways. But still he knew that she would be intelligent, as her mother and her brother, probably a technological genius like Trunks and Bulma.

Bulma was wonderful to him, he loved her so much that he couldn't even call it love, such a deep affection that it nearly drove him mad to be away from her. It almost made up for everything he had lost with having a baby girl just by realizing how much like her mother she was.

But still, what he lost was more powerful. He didn't want much to do with the brat. Yet she still held a special place in his heart, but he didn't know it yet.

That was until that exact moment that he was laying on the couch relaxing. He peacefully was left alone to his own thoughts, his own devises, often fantasizing over how to kill Kakorotto. When someone in the background suddenly disturbed him, inching their way towards the couch.

Growling, he knew who it was even without checking the ki signature. It was his stupid brat son coming down again to watch a two am viewing of some stupid movie that he enjoyed on television.

"Brat go back to bed brat and leave me alone."

The person was still standing there behind him for he hadn't heard them leave yet or any protesting grumbles as the brat would slur his feet on the carpet and head upstairs.

"I said get back to bed! Move you ass brat!"

Finally the person behind him spoke.

"I'm not a brat, am I daddy?"

Vegeta's eyes grew wide with wonderment. Picking himself up, he turned in his spot when he sat upright to look at his little three-year-old daughter standing there pulling off a comical yet kawaii figure. Her toes were pointed inwards; her pink bunny pajamas with bunnies on the attached feet with bunny ears and nose were drooping loosely over her tiny frame. He silky blue hair was matted in a range of different sizes of knots, snarls, and tangles, her left hand clung to a brown teddy bear that she dragged behind her and her right thumb was half in her mouth and half out.

If Vegeta had seen Trunks like that when he was that young he probably would have blown a gasket. But Bra on the other hand was an entirely different story.

She looked lovingly into Vegeta's cold and emotionless eyes and smiled at him. Waddling over to him in her pajamas that were easily a size to two sizes to big for her she climbed up onto the couch next to her father, kneeling beside him.

"Isn't Trunks just a brat daddy?"

Vegeta tried to keep the cold exterior that he usually had, but he could help but soften slightly at this late night meeting with his daughter.

Smiling, she noticed the slight change in her father. Taking advantage of this change, the first real change she'd ever seen in him, she crawled up onto his lap, her teddy bear still firmly in her left hand.

"Daddy, I'm not a brat, am I?"

Finally Vegeta spoke, unknowingly yet somehow willingly.

"No," he stated simply.

Vegeta's eyes straying away from the little girl. What was happening to him? As his daughter sat up strait prying him with her eyes upon his lap, he felt emotions overflow within him that he had never thought possible.

He loved this little girl.

But how could he really love her? This brat, no child that he had helped to create would never be any use to him! Could he really love such a useless being?

Then it struck him.

She was Bulma. She was a miniature Bulma, that may have his blood, but she was Bulma through and through. He knew right then how right he was all the times he had thought about this. Maybe one day she would do the things her mother did, become a mechanical genius, get great grades, graduate with honors, and make him proud.

But what would he do with her? Would eh leave her to Bulma to raise and concentrate on what little bit of a connection he had left with his son? For the first time in a long time, Vegeta, the Prince of the Saiyans admitted that he was stumped.

Prince of the Saiyans…how right now that sounded strange. He was the Prince of the Saiyans, with a beautiful wife, his mate beside him; with a rather, well, indescribable son; and a beautiful little girl. They were all the royalty of the Saiyans. They were the last of the Royalty, the last of the descendents outside of Kakorotto's pathetic family.

Somehow this made him smile.

He was the Prince of the planet Vegeta, Prince of the Saiyans. His son was also a prince and his daughter, the little daughter that sat in his lap, was the princess.

And no princess of the Saiyans would be neglected.

Not even by the highest ranked Saiyan, the prince of all Saiyans.

His smile, although it seemed impossible, grew.

"Then what am I?" she asked.

Finally looking into Bra's pure and innocent crystal blue eyes he answered her truthfully. "A princess."

Bra smiled largely and crawled up onto her father, lying on his lap. Curling up she rested her head against his chest.

"I'm a princess." Was the last thing she said before she fell asleep.

Vegeta smiled.

"Yes and tomorrow I'll tell you a story, a story my princess, of why you are a princess so that our story can continue, through both you and your brother. Goodnight princess." He said finally while resting his head back against the couch and pulling up a blanket.

Vegeta's final though before falling asleep was a simple yet predictable one that he knew somehow would come true.

If the woman, brat or even Kakorotto saw me like this I'll never live this down.

The End

This is probably the sweetest little story I've ever written. I like it a lot.

Anyways please review or e-mail me at [email protected].

Later,

Aiko "Kitty" Skywalker