White sunlight splayed across the bed in vivid elongated rays; it has been day for hours when Goku finally roused from his near comatose state. He did not open his eyes immediately, but basked in the comfortable warmth that embraced his rejuvenated body. The Saiyan's arms were occupied with the small form of the still-sleeping prince and he was spooned around his bowed back, hugging the figure against his chest. Deep, even breathing was barely audible from the resting Ouji, but it lulled Goku nonetheless, nearly mesmerizing his dozing mind. It was beautiful and perfect, this singular moment when Goku held his beloved prince, out of time and space, in the absence of reason and pride. Too soon he felt his mind stir out of its stupor and he slowly opened heavy eyes to the world.

Yellow light filtered in through the small windows of the Capsule house, dancing over the floor and deepening the outlines and shadows created by the bodies on the bed.

Careful...Goku slipped his arms out from around the relaxed prince, pulling back gently. Vegeta needs to sleep. He really took a beating yesterday...The tall Saiyan smiled fondly down at his mate as he rose. Vegeta's hard features were lax and peaceful, his limbs sprawled gracefully over the surface of the bed. As he watched, the Saiyan no Ouji groaned and shifted his position, rolling into the slight dip left by the larger Saiyan, the sheets tangling around his waist. A pang of affection, along with the ever-present tinge of desire coursed through him at the quiet movements. One of the prince's arms was draped over his forehead, the other thrown away from his body, hand up, fingers curling naturally into his palm.

The activities of the previous evening were fresh in his conscious mind, but what held him most enraptured was the picture Vegeta presented.

Beautiful...Kami, Vegeta, you are flawless...He enjoyed the soft caress of sunlight on his prince's dark skin, the golden highlights that accentuated his muscular precision and encouraged the brown and red flecks in his normally obsidian hair. He was a masterpiece of masculine perfection and Goku loved him more than he was capable of conceiving.

Birdsong revived the man from his thoughts and he reluctantly turned from the sight that dominated his vision. Although he relished the view of his naked prince, he doubted that others would appreciate it. As it stood, Vegeta had no clothing to speak of; his training uniform had been destroyed in the fury of their last battle and the remnants of Gohan's boxers lay in ribbons of red cloth on the carpeted floor beside the bed. Goku knew that the arrogant prince would prefer his nakedness to the absurdity of any of Goku's oversized clothing, which meant that he needed to provide him with another alternative.

Yawning, the tall Saiyan bent to gather his discarded pants from the floor, crossing a little further to recover his blue sash from where his heated mate had hurled it in a fit of passion. Tugging the fabric over his hips, he went to cinch it with the blue material only to find it bunched and caught at his back. Slightly irritated, Goku reached back to straighten his pants.

When his fingers came in contact with something long and furry, the large man almost fainted.

He had somehow regenerated his tail.

Goku's first instinct was to wake Vegeta. Taking a deep breath, he banished the thought--he was a big boy, he could handle this without running to the Saiyan prince. It was just a tail; he had one before, though why it had decided to grow back now was beyond his comprehension. Gohan had been known to regenerate his tail on more than one occasion. Maybe it wasn't as uncommon as he thought. Awkwardly tying his sash, Goku took a step toward the bed and froze, his black eyes widening, his breath faltering. His heart was threatening to race and leave the rest of his body in its wake as he made hesitant strides to the bed. One more step brought him before the window, blocking the light that fell across the sleeping Ouji. Yes, there it was--unmistakable. Peeking out from under the flimsy sheet that twisted around the midsection of the Saiyan prince was the tip of a bushy brown tail. It flicked and twitched in his slumber, curling and unfurling as the small Saiyan no Ouji muttered something incoherent and tossed as he slept.

Swallowing, Goku reached out a tentative hand to stroke the tip of Vegeta's newly grown tail. The prince murmured, his brow furrowing slightly as his new appendage wrapped itself around the other Saiyan's wrist. Goku's heart fluttered at the contact and he found himself smiling as he contemplated this unexpected addition. A soft laugh escaped his lips as he stroked the downy fur with the tips of his fingers. He was completely absorbed in this new revelation--until a gentle moan brought his attention back to the sleeping prince. Blushing fiercely, Goku realized what his tender ministrations were doing to Vegeta. His tail spot was sensitive; he had discovered that last night...Kami could only imagine what feeling his actual tail contained, though the lower half of the Saiyan no Ouji's body was beginning to show the signs of physical excitement.

Twisting his wrist carefully, the taller Saiyan freed himself from the Saiyan prince's grasp. The smile still played across his face as he straightened, glancing down in adoration at his beautiful mate.

Sleep well, Vegeta. I'll be back before you wake. Maybe you'll know what to make of this...Aishiteru, my prince.

Bulma sighed, running a hand over her eyes. She knew she needed to sleep, if not for herself, then for the baby. Problem was, every time she went to sleep, the little guy decided to begin his training early. He already had the fighting spirit of his father--he kicked enough to prove that to the world. Bulma rubbed absently at her swollen stomach as her eyes stared unseeing out the living room window.

"I wonder if Vegeta came back last night," she muttered to herself, watching her mother plant white lily-of-the-valleys along the pathway to their house. "I need to talk to him about what to name the baby..." She knew in his eyes that their child was a source of royal obligation, but she had also seen a flickering of interest the first time he had felt the baby move.

"Go on, Vegeta. For Kami's sake, it's not going to hurt you."

"Haven't I touched you enough, woman? Why must you pester me with this as well?"

"What's the matter, Vegeta? Scared?"

"Are you calling me a coward!? Fine!"

Her lips twitched at the memory. The rather blatant blow to his pride had initiated the expected reaction. The prince had managed to hold his calm, bored façade until the skin under his palm moved with the force of the life behind it.

"He's going to be strong..."There was awe in his voice that he hadn't thought to mask.

Bulma had just smiled. She wasn't surprised when the prince had released a volley of insults toward the mother and child to cover the momentary breach of his practiced self-control. Her continual smile had infuriated him more than any words she could think to say.

The young woman shook her head. Vegeta was like the brother she had never wanted--the affection she felt toward him was of a sisterly nature. Where other people saw a selfish, egotistical, arrogant bastard, she saw a man who had no where to go and no one to trust. They had come to understand each other well in his stay at Capsule Corporation, though the prince would never admit that. And she would never expect it of him.

Bulma groaned wearily as she turned from the sunny window to make her way toward the stairs. She had reached the absolute limit her body could coherently go without sleep. Her body was rebelling, and as she trudged up the steps to her bedroom, she welcomed the thought of collapsing on her thick, feather down comforter.

Goku fought back a fraternal wave of concern as he watched Bulma from the shadow of the doorway.

She looks so tired. I wonder how long it's been since she's slept...He knew from agonizing personal experience that pregnant women were not to be tampered with when having bouts of insomnia. Chichi had been even less tolerant than usual when she had been carrying little Gohan...Who's not so little anymore...

The tall Saiyan shook his head; he must remain focused. Vegeta wouldn't sleep forever and he didn't want the smaller man panicking and running off before he could return. Goku smiled, turning quietly toward the stairway. The thought of his prince panicking was both unsettling and oddly arousing. All the more reason to hurry and finish what he came here to do.

Dammit, how many clothes can one person own?

Vegeta's room was easily located by the searching Saiyan. He merely had to follow the faint musky sent down the long halls of Capsule Corporation. Now, rummaging through the prince's closet, he faintly wished he hadn't been able to find it.

Most of the articles had to be the work of Bulma--the Vegeta he knew would never consent to wear any of it.

Oh, Kami, Vegeta...stripes? The Saiyan tossed aside an ugly black and red striped button up with a snort of disgust. He no longer wondered why the prince continued to wear his blue fighting uniform in the absence of any real enemy. Goku sighed impatiently, shoving a rack full of disgraceful garments to his left. All he needed was a shirt and some pants, for Kami's sake! He may not have been brilliant, but Goku was pretty damn sure it wasn't supposed to be this difficult.

Bulma yawned tiredly as she shuffled down the halls of her home. One hand soothingly massaged at her stomach as the other trailed the pale blue wall on which she begrudgingly supported herself. The wallpaper was cool to the touch and the carpet beneath her feet a soft, welcome sensation. Yes, it was going to be a relaxing relief when she got to her bedroom.

The woman paused as she walked past Vegeta's room, two doors down from her own. Silently considering, Bulma raised her fist to knock. If he was there, then he was up. She had never known him to sleep in past dawn.

"Vegeta?" Bulma rapped her knuckles hard on the grainy wood of his bedroom door.

There were outfits in colours he had never seen before. Goku shuddered. He knew Bulma lacked in the taste department, but this was ridiculous. There were several of the prince's training uniforms, but Goku had long wanted to see the smaller man in something a little less confrontational. Besides, the tall Saiyan was positive the Ouji would never leave the room if he donned the bright coloured spandex in his presence. A shiver ran down his back at the thought and he grinned. Hell, Vegeta could consider himself lucky if Goku allowed him to get out of bed at all. Arching one brow and licking his lips, the Saiyan set himself to the task at hand. There had to be something in this cacophonous mess that was fit for his prince...

"Vegeta?"

Goku snapped to attention, the blood rushing to his ears as his body held the breath he had drawn.

Bulma.

The young woman scowled, obviously irritated. She could hear the faint movements of the Saiyan prince through the door; he was simply choosing not to acknowledge her.

Acknowledge?! I am not one of your subjects, you royal pain in the ass!

"Open the damned door, Vegeta! I'm a scientist, you twit! If you won't open the door, I will!"

Goku was, once again, in a fix. If he left, he would have to return--his mate still needed clothes and there was no way he was going to leave without something. The tall man blinked as Bulma's words infiltrated his thoughts. Did she always talk to him like that? Good Kami, and she's not only still alive to speak of it, she's pregnant with his child...

The exhaustion was readily replaced by the adrenaline that shot through her system. Taking a deep breath, Bulma grasped the doorknob and turned it sharply...only to have it give smoothly in her hand. She stumbled through the open door, catching herself on the paneled frame. The woman didn't move from her supported position--the shock was too great. Son Goku, the man Vegeta reviled most in the known universe was standing half-naked in his bedroom.

Goku bit his lip and plastered the trademark Son smile that Gohan had naturally inherited onto his blushing face as the blue haired woman fell through the door.

"'Morning, Bulma! What can I do for you?"

Bulma shook her head, her short, vibrant hair swishing around her ears.

"What are you doing here? And where's Vegeta?"

Goku swallowed--he hated lying, especially to those he considered family. Yet somehow the truth just didn't seem to be a reliable choice. There was Vegeta's pride to think of...and his own family...

"Vegeta and I were sparring and his clothes were...umm...destroyed." Goku's cheeks were emblazoned with a crimson blush and he looked quickly at the grey carpeted floor. Well, that much was true at least, even if he left some of the details out. Like how he wasn't truly upset to see the black spandex in pretty little streamers after their battle. The tall Saiyan shifted his weight and scratched the back of his head.

"My clothes faired better, so I offered to teleport here and pick another outfit up for him, that's all."

Goku was lying. She wasn't sure about what, but Bulma had known him long enough to detect the signs. His words were rushed, and he had that idiot grin on his face...and he blushed every time he mentioned Vegeta's name. The woman stood up straight and drew her brow together, taking another look at the Saiyan. Something was different about him...

Her blue eyes widened as they followed the pendulum like movement. Left, right, left, right...

"How on earth did you get your tail back??"

Goku watched his long time friend with the hope of a drowning man.

Please, believe me...

His entire body tensed at the sudden question and his head whipped to the side. This new appendage had a mind of its own--no, it reflected his mood. And right now it was jerking from left to right in nervous agitation.

With a shaky breath, he forced it to still; it obeyed him as he guided it around his waist like he remembered seeing Vegeta do the first time he had met the Saiyan no Ouji. Goku swallowed hard; he felt like an animal put on display and resisted the all too natural instinct to growl at the small woman.

He shrugged his shoulders in what he hoped seemed nonchalantly.

"I'm not sure, Bulma. We just woke up with them--"

K'so! You baka! Watch your words! The large Saiyan thought, unknowingly drawing upon the cursing words of his prince. Bulma's too smart. I'm a terrible liar and she's a Kami-damned genius. Oh, Vegeta's gonna kill me...

With a mental wail of dramatized anguish, Goku turned his back on the woman, blindly maintaining his quest for Vegeta's clothing.

Bulma echoed the man's words under her breath. "We just woke up with them...We?" Her brilliant mind latched onto the phrase, but was unable to decipher the meaning.

Well, if what he says is true, then maybe they knocked each other out and when they came to...

Her mental calculating crashed as the man turned, exposing his back. From the muscled shoulders to his lower back, there were dozens of thin, red welts.

Vegeta walked into the kitchen during an interlude in his workout in nothing but black spandex shorts. After last night, Bulma was better able to understand the power contained within that tight material. He strode past her without a word, grabbing a glass from the cabinet and filling it at the sink. She kept her eyes lowered to her tea. This was more than awkward--they had both agreed wholeheartedly that neither wanted anything more than a child out of their union, but the Saiyan prince had not made last night unenjoyable...Bulma shivered. Vegeta was a much better lover than Yamcha...and the cocky bastard knew it. She had never screamed like that for Yamcha...

The woman could feel the heat rising to her face. She detested many things about the arrogant prince, but she readily admit to his skill as a lover. Bulma chanced a look out of the corner of one blue eye. The Saiyan still faced the sink, the half-empty glass in his right hand. Her eye brows rose in surprise as she spun in her chair to face him.

"Vegeta, what happened to your back?"

The prince only glanced back at her with the shitty little smirk that reminded her more strongly why she wasn't with him.

"You did, woman."

Bulma almost choked as her brain reached a stunning conclusion.

"We woke up..."

"Oh, Kami-sama. I don't believe it..."

Just when all his efforts seemed hopeless, Kami shone pity on the poor Saiyan. There, nestled in the far corner of the prince's closet was an outfit that befit both his attitude and his station. Goku mentally checked himself to make sure he wasn't salivating as he tugged the pants, and then the shirt from their hangers. He would kill to see the prince in this, and maybe even die again.

If seeing you in this doesn't kill me first...

A purr began to form in his throat as he folded the soft material over his right arm. Vegeta had definitely hand picked this attire. Now was the perfect chance for him to show his artistic side. Not used to the addition, or the proper way to hold it, Goku's tail again lashed from side to side; its movements contained a pulsing excitement like the small child who eats his cake impatiently so that he may open the birthday presents he knows are waiting. Bending at the waist, the tall Saiyan sifted through the bottom half of Vegeta's abyss of a closet until it surrendered the footwear he had been digging for.

Perfect. Now I just need to convince Bulma that all is well so I can be there when he wakes...

Bulma's lips tried to shape words a thousand different times before the man faced her once more. The revelation was incredible and it never occurred to her that she could possibly be wrong. Her mind had taken all the twisted little pieces that Goku had unwittingly thrown her and completed the puzzle. But the idea, the actual thought of the two Saiyan's together was incomprehensible. She had seen the intensity under which Vegeta trained--over 450 times normal gravity for the sheer purpose of destroying the man standing not five feet from her. If there was even the slightest grain of doubt remaining in her mind, it was demolished at the sight of the garments Goku had chosen for the Saiyan prince. She silently envied the tall man--the vision of the Saiyan no Ouji in leather and silk was certainly not an unpleasant one.

The woman he had known nearly all of his life was giving him a look that he honestly could not interpret. He wished vaguely that Vegeta were here before he thought better of it. He knew what the small prince would say to the blue haired woman and it wasn't pretty.

Goku drew a breath, his hands clasping at the material in his fist.

"Bu-Bulma? Is something wrong?"

When the shock wore off, Bulma had to physically battle the laughter that threatened to bubble forth from her lips. She was too tired for this and it was all too funny.

"Poor Vegeta!"

Goku was confused. Bulma was laughing hysterically at a joke he must have missed and every now and then Vegeta's name was thrown into the mix. Pregnant women were strange...and Bulma seemed to fit that mold ideally.

Bulma would have continued if her stomach hadn't begun to ache. She shook her head smiling as she cradled her belly and leaned back against the doorjamb.

Goku was getting worried. The woman bore a strange look in her eyes, and it was unsettling. The Saiyan licked his lips and glanced around uncertainly. Vegeta kept a surprisingly neat room--nothing was out of place. The bed didn't even look slept in, the navy blue comforter folded down and creased almost professionally. There were no extra knick-knacks, nothing that showed this was more than a guest bedroom.

Hmph. Except for the closet, the man thought bitterly.

Bulma steadied her breathing and pushed herself away from the door.

"Well, Goku...you should get back to Vegeta. You know how impatient he can be." The woman walked through the doorway and paused, throwing him a smile over her shoulder.

"And make sure you keep his clothes on in the future."

His heart ceased to beat for a fraction of a second as her teasing words and their meaning were absorbed.

...you keep his clothes on...oh, Kami. He sunk to the carpeted floor with his hands between his knees. Good Kami, was it all going to be this stressful? Bulma knew; he had seen it in her insightful blue eyes the instant before she had disappeared around the corner.

The large man bit his lip as he brought his fingers to his forehead and centered on Vegeta's ki.

Oh, Vegeta, you're going to kill me...

He was warm, comfortable, and...safe. The Saiyan no Ouji yawned as he opened his black eyes. The light from the window no longer fell across the bed, but had moved with the sun to trace intricate yellow patterns on the floor. Vegeta stretched out on the bed, his body taunt, then relaxing before lacing his fingers behind his head. He wasn't surprised to see Kakarott already up; Vegeta had required a healing sleep, where the other Saiyan had only needed his usual amount of rest.

The prince watched the dust motes swirling in and out of the light rays, content to remain in bed a little longer. He rarely granted himself even a solitary moment of respite and it felt good to just exist for an instant before he was forced to deal with the events of the last day and a half. The Saiyan was glad Kakarott wasn't here--it gave him time to sort through his thoughts before the man returned.

He inhaled deeply and a smile found its way to the corners of his lips. The bed was scented strongly with the passionate activities of the night before and it added to the comfortable, safe feeling that enveloped the small Ouji. Vegeta licked his lips and swallowed. It was still a complete shock to him that he had chosen to bond with Kakarott.

Vegeta sneered at himself. I chose him. But the ferocity behind the statement stemmed more from confusion than revulsion, and the scornful look faded easily into thoughtful reverie.

The Saiyan prince could not deny the way he felt about the low class warrior. Kakarott made him feel at ease, understood--for Kami's sake, the man had seen the horrific events in his past and still could look at the smaller man with desire. The Saiyan grinned as he pictured Kakarott's face, devoid of that idiot smile he wore for the others. The prince didn't know when or how he had awakened the other man's Saiyan nature, but he wasn't sorry that he had. Vegeta laughed. Overall, he was a little sore from last night's revelation, but far from willing to apologize for it.

Vegeta yawned again, barring his teeth as he sat up and rubbed the gritty grains of sleep from his eyes. If he thought his life had been complicated yesterday, then he had almost no idea how to handle this new turn of events. Fighting with the sheet around his waist, the prince swung his legs over the edge of the bed and went to stand. Growling and cursing softly in the Saiyan language, Vegeta tried vainly to understand how the sheet was still keeping him from getting up; he had already removed it from his waist and still the damn thing was thwarting him. The prince twisted violently, ending up in an undignified manner on the floor of the Capsule house. Swearing, the prince rubbed his sore bottom as he stood, only to trip in surprise as his own tail wrapped itself around his forearm.

Instantly, Vegeta ceased all attempts to regain his footing, or his dignity, for that matter. He had not been conscious of the appendage, but now he allowed his body to go into an instinctive mode and the furry addition twined itself around his waist. The Saiyan no Ouji stared down at himself in wide-eyed amazement.

Nani? I have my tail. How the hell did that happen?

The Saiyan prince smiled and it widened as the reality sunk in. He really had his tail back!

Must have something to do with the bonding...

Suddenly, the small man had the almost irrepressible urge to dance around like a child. The Ouji had been silently devastated when his tail had been severed in the battle against Kakarott's brat and his bastard friend, but now the main source of his power was once again secured around his waist.

Climbing gracefully to his feet, the Saiyan no Ouji felt lighter than air as he walked into the next room--the kitchen. He was elated at his discovery, though part of him knew that the light feeling was caused, in part, by the simple fact that the Saiyan had not eaten in quite awhile.