Vegeta is indeed Prince of 'all' Saiyans--but following the deaths of Raditz and Nappa, he and Kakarot ('Goku' in Earthen terms) were not the only ones to be spared their home planet's fate.
There is yet one more survivor from his royal family; one...
"Eat your breakfast! We're going for a morning training today! Quickly!"
The man barking orders, already dressed in 'normal' Earthen clothes, is Vegeta. He is--or at least still considers himself to be--the prince of 'Saiyans', a very warlike race whose primary occupation is to colonize or otherwise destroy other weaker planets; if they did not decide to sell them outright to the highest intergalactic bidder.
Presently, however, Vegeta's planet had itself been destroyed, and he is one of its few survivors--suddenly finding himself stranded on a fertile planet called 'Earth'. Assimilation took quite some time, but by now he had became pliant enough to be willing to form a relationship with an Earthen woman, Bulma, who is also daughter to the owner of Earth's most prosperous entity, the Capsule Corporation.
Out of such a relationship, they had had a son, Trunks: lavender-haired, blue-eyed (mostly from the mother's side), eight years old--and presently groaning as he dressed in his daily yellow training clothes.
"But Dad, we trained nearly all day yesterday... and you promised to take me to the amusement park too!"
"Hmph! Then we'll train again! At that, I didn't say exactly when we'll go."
"Aww..."
Vegeta smirked, then almost instantly became somewhat thoughtful.
"Besides," he added in an undertone, "you might want to be in top shape before they get here..."
"Huh? They? Who are they?"
"...I-it's nothing; I was talking to myself. Nothing of your business, really. Now, have you had breakfast?"
"Geez--patience, Dad; I'm not a full Saiyan, to be so thirsty of fighting!"
"Well, GET TO IT THEN!"
"Urk... O-okay!!"
While Vegeta fretted at the delay, his wife appeared in her usual costume, apparently unfazed by what had happened. She waves a cell phone.
"For you, dear."
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He caught it mid-air, and was surprised to find it still buzzing. The caller's name was not visible. Bulma, however, could content herself with the fact that her husband knew just how to use the device, given his previous warlike nature.
"Who could this be?"
"How would I know?" she glared, hands on hips. "Got only one call from that number yesterday; a female voice said she's going to visit today, so I guessed it had to be for your ears. But come on; you're not seriously initiating a double-play, are you, Vegeta?"
The Saiyan prince faltered. Of all, this woman's anger is not something to toy with--even he had to admit that much.
"A..." he gulped, "--a female voice, you say? And she's coming today, eh..."
He got only glares for answer. "What does this mean?"
"I... think we'd have to see the guest first. Gauge her purpose."
"...Really, if I hadn't known you better, I'd bash that thick Saiyan head of yours! Inviting another woman before your own wife--"
"...Listen! I had not known anything of this until you told me just now, okay?! If this woman guest turns out to be little better than a wench, I'll blast her off myself! Got that?!"
She scoffed. "We'll see. Still got a call there--"
"Hello?!" Vegeta screamed down to the phone now, not even bothering to lift it to his ear; such was his irritation.
"...My, that was indeed quite a bicker," the same mysterious female voice answered. "Next time, don't press the 'Call' button unless you're quite ready to make the call. Got it?"
"Crap... Just tell us who the heck you are!"
"*Grunts* Still unpolished as ever, I see. It's me. I'll be there very soon."
"Like I said, WHO ARE--"
His sentence was cut short by rings on the bell--two, three times.
"Tch... hold this, wife, I'll get it. And she better be a good guest, because if not..."
He trudged to the front door.
"What's Dad up to now?" Trunks, who had taken his breakfast quietly amidst the shouts, now came up beside his mother.
"Seems we're having a visitor."
"What, so early?"
"She's phoned."
"Wanna go see!"
"Me too. Let's go."
However, when they both reached to where Vegeta is, they found the Saiyan prince speechless before a slim green-eyed woman with blond hair that reached down to her waist; and her son--who appeared to be of Trunks' age and possessed much the same physical features to his own mother. Neither of them wore 'scouters' nor Saiyan armor; instead, the woman contented herself going around in light colored blouse, black jeans with double pockets on both sides, and bright red low-heels. The child beside her wore beige shorts and a light-green shirt.
"Long time no see, Vegeta. You been fine? Oh, meet my son Bana."
"Morning, Uncle!"
Even to these salutations, Bulma's husband failed to immediately respond.
"...Hello? Hey, I'm talking to you. May we have the pleasure of coming inside, or is this the new Saiyan way of treating guests?"
"Ah, it's--"
Vegeta, instead of blasting away the 'wench', slowly gave way; apparently unmindful of the shocked looks of his own wife and son behind.
"Big Sister Saui... how pleasant it is to meet you. You too, er... Bana. Come inside, please."
"Thank you--and wipe off those beads of sweat. Disgusting to look at, really. Let's go, Bana."
"Right behind you, Mom."
***
Well, how do you like that? :D This is my first try in making a DBZ fanfic, but we all improve. Meantime, it'd be nice to hear your thoughts on this and the incoming chapters! Enjoy! ^^
