ChiChi didn't trust Vegeta as far as she could throw him, and for a smaller man he was quite dense and heavy.

She watched as he took the baby from Bulma and sat down in the window nook in the nursery. Trunks sat up and touched the glass in awe, amazed by the thousands of raindrops that had accumulated on the pane. Rain was still falling on the city, and the room was filled with a peacefull, white noise.

Vegeta tapped the glass with a knuckle and Trunks' little mouth gaped as hundreds of droplets shook loose and streamed down the pane in rivets. He looked at his father. He looked at the glass. He looked back at his father and back again at the glass. Then, he raised a tiny palm and slapped the pane. Again the droplets shook free and streamed down. The baby laughed. His parents smiled, Vegeta more reluctantly than Bulma. ChiChi was disgusted by the furtive yet entirely affectionate look Bulma shot Vegeta as she bent to kiss their baby on the forehead. Vegeta did not acknowledge her, and his indifference solidified her hatred of him. Why should a good father and husband like Goku die while a selfish shit like him survives for a family he doesn't even love?

Bulma gave Trunks' soft little head a farwell caress and turned to leave, beckoning ChiChi to follow. She refused, brows hitching sharply.

"No, no I'm fine here, Bulma." She said, and Bulma raised her eyebrows. She opened her mouth and stuttered twice in confusion before she managed,

"Oh, well, no, let's get those books for Gohan so Vegeta can be with the baby for a while." She was flustered, and gave her a pleading look that begged her to comply—begged her not to provoke the volatile man holding her son.

ChiChi stood her ground even as Vegeta looked over his shoulder to give her a chilling glare.

"No." She said. "I think some supervision is in order."

Both Bulma and Vegeta started at that, but ChiChi was surprised that Bulma was on her before Vegeta could gather his thoughts. I guess Vegeta didn't beat the backbone out of her. So be it. Someone had to say it.

"That is outrageous, ChiChi. You may not like Vegeta, but that baby loves him—don't you dare suggest my child she be denied time with his father."

Oblivious as only a baby could be, Trunks mewled loudly and pulled Vegeta's ears and grabbed at his nose and lips to win back his attention. Vegeta angled his head away from the boy's pinching fingers, and shot Bulma a cryptic look that she didn't see.

"I'm all for father-son bonding, Bulma, but let's not forget were talking about a man who let the both of you drop seventeen stories after falling out of a burning aircraft." ChiChi threw her hands up incredulously. "I honestly can't take this, would you just get your head out of your ass and look at the man? He does not love you or Trunks! Bulma, I will stay here. I will help you raise Trunks. But send him away. For the good of your son!"

Bulma was almost as mortified as she was horrified. She could already feel her face twisting, ready to scream or sob. She felt impossible mixture of insult, betrayal, rage, and fear. She looked behind her, hoping to extinguish the situation before Vegeta—it was too late, he was already beside her, dumping the baby in her arms and storming towards the frail brunette. Bulma held Trunks tightly with one arm, and pulled Vegeta's shoulder back with her other, asking him to let it go. He ignored her.

ChiChi stood to meet him, fear only striking her when she was close enough to see the unadulterated anger in his eyes. There was not much of a difference in height between them, but Vegeta gave the impression of being much taller than he actually was. She realized it was a lot different to stand up to him than it was to stand up to Goku, who she had dominated regardless of a lack of real physical strength. Goku was as pliable as puppy, but Vegeta had long mastered the art of intimidation. ChiChi almost faltered.

"Listen here, cunt." ChiChi actually flinched at the word. Bulma turned her back to her, as if to say 'sorry, but you brought this on yourself.'

"If you were not pregnant by a man I cannot help but respect for all things Saiyan and sacred, I wouldn't hesitate to throttle you for what you just said. Sadly, you are, so I will just say this:

"You know nothing about me or that woman over there, to whom you claim to be a good friend. And you certainly know nothing about the nature of our relationship. As shallow as yours was with Kakarot, I think it's safe to say you know little about the complexities of relationships on the whole—

ChiChi's eyes were bright with fury. "Goku loved me!"

"He loved you like he loved turkey sandwiches, you idiot bitch!" Vegeta seethed. Trunks squirmed in Bulma's arms and began to cry. Bulma spoke soothingly, but her efforts were futile. The boy whined. ChiChi was bright red and shaking with the adreniline of confrontation.

"Goku procted me. He respected me. He wouldn't have let me fall—"

Vegeta pressed his lips together. "I will tell you the same thing I told Bulma: when Gero shot her plane out of the sky, I reacted no differently than any other person there that day: I stood and gaped up at her like a fucking fish at the stupidity of it. It was a long moment before I could even wrap my head around it, but lucky for Bulma, gallant future Trunks had put on his big-boy hero pants that morning so he could save her from her own arrogance. So before you call me out, let's remember the irresponsible mother who brought my infant son into a warzone!"

ChiChi, not unlike Vegeta, loved being right too much to concede the point entirely. And maybe she wasn't completely right, but she wasn't totally wrong either. Vegeta was a bad person and he made selfish choices that hurt people. He was an opportunist. He used people. He used Bulma; he seduced her. Even now, he was ruining her, somehow willing her to defend him even though he dismissed her.

"So you are not the only one at fault." She spat. "That doesn't make me trust you any more. It doesn't make me believe you'd be a loving father. It doesn't make me worry about Trunks' future. It doesn't make me worry about Bulma. Tell me honestly, when tough times come, do you keep your fists too yourself? Can a murderer like yourself abstain from violence or force, indefinitely? Can you love in the face of hardship, of uncertainty, of failure?"

Vegeta's looked passed her, over her shoulder, towards Bulma. "Why is she insinuating—" His eyes found ChiChi's again. More forcefully this time, "Why are you insinuating I hit her?"

"Have you? Would you? What does your past lead me to believe?"

"I was a soldier, and highly ranked at that. I was not a petty bully, ChiChi."

"You tried to kill my husband! You killed Yamcha! You almost killed my son! In fact, I had a beautiful life before YOU and YOUR kin came here and fucked it all up! Now I have to raise two children on my own because of YOU! You were and are animal!" There were hot tears in her eyes now. "Bulma, how could you shelter a man who has caused so much pain? How could you have his child?"

Bulma shook her head. "It's not like that— "

"You're right!" Vegeta thundered. "I am an animal. I am a beast. Just like you, just like Kakarot, just like every other living, sentient thing on this planet and every other planet out there. Does that mean I don't feel? Of course I do—my life experiences have caused me to know emotions on a scale and spectrum that would make your fucking head spin! I have felt the highest of highs and lowest of lows and everything in between—and it has driven me.

"And yes—I trusted Bulma. I still trust her. And maybe I love her, too. But I also hate her because I didn't ask for this! She made it a reality and I didn't have a say in the matter! I begged her not to—I told her from the beginning I never wanted children, and she betrayed me. I am not fit for fatherhood, I know it, I've always known it, and I fucking hate failures.

"I wanted to do as you suggested, woman. And I did leave. I thought it would be better for Trunks to have no father than a father who could offer him nothing but a meaningless title. I know how to manipulate, destroy, and conquer—I am the best at it, and there will never be anyone better—but is that what I want for my son? No, no it isn't. What I would've given my son if things had gone right in my life—he would have been the happiest fucking prince there ever was—to imagine how great it would have been makes me feel like such a failure it makes me physically sick. What will I do when that child grows up and looks at me for the first time with clarity? With real, mature comprehension?

"I already know what that feels like because I've known that child as a man, and, yes, I've seen that he will grow up to be resentful of me… he will be disappointed and confused by me. Maybe, maybe he will even be afraid of me or come to hate me, as you do.

"But I also know what it feels like to watch that child die only knowing a father who was so afraid of facing his own failures that he refused to acknowledge his own flesh and blood! That boy deserves a father who isn't a coward. So, I will be here, whether you, or Bulma, or any one else approves of it or not, woman. I will give that kid everything I have, even if you think it's shitty and worthless."

Vegeta couldn't believe all of it came tumbling out of his mouth like that, but it had, and Jesus Christ did it feel right. It was probably the most honest thing that ever left his lips, and he took real pride in that. He moved to leave, but ChiChi grabbed his arm.

She stared at him like she'd never seen him before in her life. And the more she stared, the more she didn't recognize him. Had Vegeta ever been the vague, cackling, scheming monster she knew in her mind?

"I—I'm so sorry." She said. She felt her throat tighten in embarrassment. She paused to ponder this intense feeling. Goku was gone, gone forever, and it wasn't Vegeta's fault. Murdered by Cell or felled by a heart virus… he would be gone regardless of this man's petty jealousy of her husband. There was a time when Vegeta wanted to take Goku away from her… but things were different now, maybe not totally, but at least slightly. He was a father. He wanted to try and do something right. "I just… I thought…It's just that Goku…"

Vegeta looked at her and none of the usual emotions surfaced. Neither disgust, nor rage, nor rancor, nor flippancy, nor indifference, nor disdain. He only felt calm. I could tell her to go fuck herself. I could tell her I would pommel her husband if I ever got another chance. Instead, he said plainly:

"It's okay. Now you understand."

Son ChiChi fell into his arms like a rag doll and hugged him. It was so unexpected and ludicris he almost laughed. Awkwardly, he brought his hands to her back, and let them rest there lightly for a moment. Then he felt uncomfortable, and then he felt angry at her for making him uncomfortable, so he cleared his throat impatiently and let her go.

"Alright, enough. I came here today so I could hold my son. Get off me." He snarled artificially.

ChiChi pulled away with a red face, wiping her nose with her sleeve. Bulma was there with Trunks who was still babbling obliviously and rattling a plastic ring of colorful keys. The boy went willingly to Vegeta, which Vegeta was grateful for because sometimes he seemed much more fond of Bulma than him and there were days Vegeta had to pry him off her only to hold him against his will and listen to him cry and whimper in his ear. That always made him feel embarrassed and stupid. He moved to return to the window nook, where the rain had stopped and the sky was amber. It was a curious color, one that made him feel cautious, but somehow hopeful and patient.

"I feel like such an asshole." ChiChi said to Bulma.

"You were an asshole before, you shouldn't feel any worse." Vegeta quipped, and gave her a taunting look over his shoulder. She smiled in spite of herself, but was still overwhelmed and excused herself. She headed to the bathroom.

Vegeta held up his hand palm-out for Trunks to punch and slap and pull, one of his favorite games to play with the boy. "When are you gonna walk, brat?" Bulma heard him murmur and her heart suddenly swelled.

"I love you." She blurted out. He turned his head and raised his eyebrows. He looked at her for a long moment and snorted.

"I know." He sighed after a short silence.

She couldn't see his face but she knew he was smirking to himself. Bastard. He Han Solo'd me.

She left them knowing he would come around eventually…