Author’s Note: 4/29/04 - I've revised the Prologue and it's more detailed than before. Enjoy and tell me what you think.
PROLOGUE
Sitting here, my hands resting upon the keys, I face the screen before me. The dark room I inhabit is lit with an eerie light, the monitor sparking to life. I know I should remain calm; this sense of anxiety dwelling in my gut has grown. Each day passes and I am alone, lacking the company of a sole individual.
My lips are moving, voice softly droning out the commands that I’ve set for the computer’s search engine.
“Log recording, begin.”
My destination is met and a window pops open, a blank slate save for the solitary cursor blinking at the top left hand corner. Without losing eye contact, I distractedly sip from a straw poking out of a soda bottle and am dismayed to find its contents empty. Damn, all gone. No matter, I’m not that thirsty anyway.
I wonder if it is possible that I can even cope with the fact that he is gone. I would’ve never known this had happened a week before. Then again, I should’ve expected it. This is his royal ass-ness I’m referring to...the ass I happen to be in love with…
Vegeta, the prince of a dying race is everything but average. He is strength and pride consumed. He is everything… everything that I thought I didn’t want. What happened? Why did he have to go? He left Trunks and I without a word.
I know. You think, ‘Oh, it’s just been a week. He’ll be back! You’re worrying over nothing!!!’
He might come back, but for some reason, deep within the place that Vegeta had taken to dwell inside my heart. He’d said that I was something special and at the time we were having sex. So, the validity of his statement is still under question; I hope he meant it.
He will be back, but somehow, not as someone I’d expect. What is this…this terrible pain in my chest? Is it the sense of foreboding; I’ve been told in the past that I shouldn’t ignore my instincts and listen to what they have to say. What I’m being told is nothing good and something I wish I didn’t have to hear. But, it’s there, a feeling of dread.
Vegeta isn’t easy to predict, but since that night, a year ago, the night of our son’s conception. I’ve always had an understanding with him and I believe in my heart we’d bonded somehow. We had something between us.
In the beginning we were hesitant in revealing our secret affair, but it really didn’t take a genius for anyone to guess that we were an item. Internally, I was screaming to the world that I was mated to the saiyajin prince. I knew he wouldn’t have approved of my gossip so I obediently heeded to his request of silence. Naturally, everything pretty much blew out the window the day I discovered that I was with child.
I smile, remembering that day. If only I could turn back the hands of time…
Vegeta may…no, WILL return, but perhaps not as the man I once respected. Every time he leaves to go somewhere, he returns a changed man. Sometimes it’s for the better and others… well, you get what I mean. I can only pray that he’ll confide in me. After all, I’m the only one other than Goku who’ve been able to understand him at a personal level.
The door to the study swings open, jarring me from my reverie of thoughts. Clutching my chest to restrain the labored pounding of my heart, I risk a look over my shoulder. Despite being used to the moving about of a saiyan, I am still prone to being startled from time to time.
My temper flared, speak of the fucking devil…
I can hear Trunks crying in the background, yet I dare not move. Rising steadily to my feet, I lower my hands, fisted tightly, nails digging viciously into nervously sweating palms. Those eyes, they are cold and lifeless, staring back at me in the contemptuous way that I am loath to acknowledge. I equally meet his gaze with my own glare. I’ve never cowered beneath him before and I refuse to start now.
That perpetual frown deepens, obscuring the sublime youth of his face. It’s funny how much it seems that that stupid expression seems pasted on his face… makes me sick sometimes thinking about it. Christ, I wish he’d just get off his high horse already and roll in the dirt like the rest of us.
Thin lips soon part, the creases at the corner of his mouth fading.
Yeah, say something, ANYTHING you sonavuh bitch! I soon find myself and quickly shorten the distance between us, raising a hand to strike him. The pain that spears its way up my arm is a swift reminder that he isn’t human, but at the moment I could care less. He deserves it, even if I may have only given him more than a tickle.
He is unphased by my so called ‘weakling attack’ and continues to stare at me as if I could simply disappear with a mere thought.
Hell, my knuckles smart. I am aware that I may never possess the ability to physically harm him, but he can rest assured that I am a woman who never backs down. I will make my displeasure known to him even at the cost of my own discomfort. I will never show any signs of disadvantage to this man. I am determined to prove that I am worth his time even if this dreadful feeling worsens. “You’ve been gone a week,” I hiss.
Slowly, he lifts one hand from his side, reaching out to me. At first, it appears as if he’ll cradle my chin with the butt of his hand, reassuring me against my claim.
I’m not too sure what his intentions are, but I can only pray that this is his way of showing his affection. He has no idea how much his absence affects me. Almost wishing that my fantasies were true, I move to embrace him. Please, hold me and tell me everything is going to be okay.
A swift motion of his arm, quicker than my eyes can detect, I find myself flying through the air. I’m dreaming. I must be… maybe I’ll wake up any second, realizing the stupidity of my assumptions and laugh about it long and hard. Heck, Vegeta may even join me, telling me how I’m a fool for worrying over nothing.
Sad chance.
The world around me darkens, stars dancing in my vision as I find myself lying face down upon the floor. Ouch… did anyone get the license plate number of the bus that just hit me? Barely conscious, I assess the situation, wondering what could’ve possibly triggered such an action. What had I done wrong?
Vegeta, the prince of saiyans had always dealt an empty threat toward me in the past; he did it more to scare me. Apparently I’m wrong, for once he means business.
“Shut that god damn child up, will you? I have training to do.”
Buh?
My temples throb. I know I’ll have one helluvah bruise on my face, but at this moment I don’t care. The tightness in my chest has grown stronger, reminding me of my doubts. This isn’t him... It is and yet, it isn’t. He feels wrong somehow, call me crazy if you want. I just know that it isn’t…. he even looked wrong. Nothing was right about what he just did and I’m sure Son Kun would agree if he were here.
Gently, I touch the side of my face, wincing against the sharp stab of pain. …don’t think anything’s broken…
Slowly, I pull myself up from the floor, tossing my throbbing head back and revealing the growing welt beneath my left eye. I will let him see it and I will not shed a damned tear for it; I wear his mark proudly. “You haven’t fooled me. Not even for one second.”
He tilts his head and smirks beguilingly, then turns swiftly upon his heel and marches towards his training quarters.
Smart-ellic…
Once I am sure he is gone, I find myself in Trunks’ nursery, looming tiredly over his crib and reaching down to scoop him up into his arms. He’s the spitting image of his father, sporting a lavender mop of soft curls atop his head. I am unable to restrain a smile of pride, “I’m sorry Trunks. Daddy isn’t feeling well and I don’t he’s going to be around much. Mommy thinks he’s in disguise.”
My child stares up at me, his lips quivering. The tiny thing he is, so vulnerable, but far beyond human normalcy.
My eyes steal a glance at the lavender tail wriggling beneath him. I thought I’d had it removed when he was born…. My hands rest over it, feeling the soft hair bristle against my touch.
Trunks whimpers, his blue eyes wide and pleading.
Does he know what trouble this will cause if I allow him to keep it? I hold up so that we’re face to face, “You don’t know what you’re getting into, you know?”
His tiny nose twitches, taking in my scent. Strange, saiyans use scent more than any other sense to identify others. How funny it would be if I let him keep that beautiful little tail as a mockery. I nuzzle his chest, receiving a delighted giggle. Yes, he will be greater than that lie.
“I will show you how to be better than him once you’re old enough. I will train you to be strong. Your mommy knows a thing or two about karate because she’s been around Son Kun and the others since childhood.”
I know I must be insane in thinking I can do this. What mother would make this kind of decision for her son? Again, I have to remind myself that the laws of humanity shouldn’t restrain him. He was born to fight and to deprive him of something that comes so completely natural to him would be unthinkable.
I take a seat in the rocking chair beside his crib, feeling a little mouth rooting against my chest. Ah yes, another thing he inherited…
“Mommy knows what you want.” …a voracious appetite.
I unbutton my shirt, unclasping the front of my bra and allowing him to begin breastfeeding. An inborn instinct has already taught him what he must do to find nourishment and in an instant his mouth has latched upon an awaiting nipple. Suckling away, I cradle him gently, humming a lullaby.
He’s a smart boy, the son of Vegeta, the man living a lie.
TBC…