Dragonball Super Z http://hometown.aol.com/juuhachigouda/dbszfic.html By: MiraiBulma Dragonball Z Interlude Three: Night Thoughts - In the middle of the night I go walking in my sleep Though the desert of truth to the river so deep We all end in the ocean we all start in the streams We're all carried along by the river of dreams In the middle of the night --Billy Joel ~*~ The bed is warm from our bodies, hers and mine. She's already dreaming, one fist curled loosely under her chin. I am not. There are many nights I don't sleep until the sun grows close; this, it seems, is one of them. So I rise from the bed-- silently, though I could probably make as much noise as a herd of triceras and she'd never budge. Not after what we've been doing this evening. Still, no use in rousing her, she would only want to know where I was going. And where am I going? To my son's room, it seems. At least at first my feet lead me there. The door opens noiselessly at my touch and after a moment my eyes pick them out, the pair in the bed. Trunks... and that damned playtoy of his. Jinzoningyo. Little artificial doll-thing. No fit company for a princeling, but he won't have another. I fail to see the attraction, but as long as she amuses him, she can be spared. Besides, there's a certain wisdom in keeping her close. That way I can watch her, every moment. If she makes a mistake, no matter how small, I'll have her. And I will have you, jinzoningyo, if you give me the least excuse to do so. I won't be as slipshod as Trunks was-- no. The boy had no idea they could resurrect themselves. He might have if he'd seen Metal Kuura, but that was well before his birth, and afterwards... Afterwards. I stand by the bed now, and look down, and in his sleep he stirs a bit, sensing me; good. His warrior's instincts are true. If I struck now he'd be awake in a second to defend himself, but he knows my ki and settles at once, quieting again. I have to fight an impulse to reach out, to lay a hand to his head for a moment, but though the motion is held back the feeling that prompts it isn't. It aches inside me like an old wound, which it is, I suppose. A wound that scars my soul, where none can see. I walked away from you and your mother--as much to preserve my pride as to spare your life. As Prince it was my obligation to kill you, admission of my weakness made flesh and blood. One moment's need and loneliness, woven together with her beauty and spirit... and she is beautiful, your mother. When she stood with us to watch Furiiza's coming, I knew there was more to her than any of the other stupid, silly wenches I'd seen previously on this planet. And that was the beginning of my wanting her. A wanting that I couldn't master or deny, that only gathered its strength till it could take me off guard. *heh* Not that she argued too much when it finally did. None at all, as I remember. If only I'd stayed, put aside my pride then. There might've been a chance to see you grow up. Instead, I'm handed a man and told this is the child I sired, who.... Who... Shoot. Idiot word for an idiot human emotion. How can anyone expect one word to stand for all the ways this feels? This fire that overrides my will and moves my hand out to brush the bangs from your eyes; and you smile, in your slumbers. You know I'm here. And knowing that you know--and welcome--my presence is like that sword of yours through my heart. I lock my teeth to keep my silence, put down this burning emotion. Unseemly to reveal, and dangerous too. Or it would have been on Vegetasei. But I lo...I... I love you still, my son. With all that part of my heart and soul I haven't given to your mother already. --Which isn't much, but it's enough, it would seem, to be almost more than I can bear. And you are a Prince, and the son of a Prince, and those who raise a hand to you will die. I take my leave, and walk the building now, feeling and scenting and looking around. All's well. The night is clear and cool, the seasons shifting. Harvest time soon, Bulma says. Then winter, and those stupid thick clothes she will insist on our wearing. They're hardly necessary, but I'll wear them. It does save me the effort, no matter how small an effort it is, of keeping myself warm with a ki shield. Clear skies, though I can feel the energy building in the air; there'll be storms tomorrow. --Hn? Well, well. Someone else awake. A surprise. I thought once you were asleep nothing but a bomb going off under your thick head would rouse you. Life is full of learning experiences, isn't it. I wonder what you're doing awake, Kakarott. Not enough to ask you, however. Not nearly enough. There's very little makes me willing to have your thoughts touch mine. Though... perhaps I should. There's something different about you this lifetime, Kakarott. Like putting my hand into what seems a shallow puddle, and suddenly I'm soaked halfway up to my shoulder. Something for another time. Tonight is mine alone. And now our bedroom again, and Bulma. The starlight's enough to see her clearly for Saiyajin eyes. So this is how you looked when you first met Kakarott and all the other fools that used to follow him. Yamcha really was a blind fool, then. He should've claimed you as his mate from the moment he saw you. His loss, my gain. I have you and I will keep you. And be kept. How my father must be laughing, if he's heard by now. Let him. I don't care. As I master, so I am mastered, and there is no one more worthy on this planet or any other. Do you have any idea what you could command of me, Bulma? A crown of a hundred stars, a thousand worlds. They would feel your shadow cross theirs and weep for joy and despair. But you want nothing more than my arms. So then. Yes..... look at you, curling into me as if you meant to be part of me forever. You will be, my mate, my queen, my Bulma. You will be. Nothing and no one in Heaven, Earth or Hell will ever take you from me again. If I have to shake the planet from its place in the sky to come back to you, I will. Sleep well now. I am here. And I'll do the same. End Interlude Three