Also: A person on Fanfiction.net (where this fic is also posted, as well as on Media Miner) brought to my attention the fact that Vegeta is five years of age when Vegetasei is destroyed, which would make him quite young when he landed on R’haksin. However, I made him 15. This is because, although we all know a five-year-old Vegeta is quite capable of flying a Sayajin space pod and destroying giant Storkrins, I wanted him to be older for that. It may be that this messes up the entire timeline and whatnot of DBZ, but I am prone to changing whatever I feel like changing when I write Bulma/Vegeta fics. Could this fic be an alternate Universe? Perhaps. Perhaps it is just that it’s just a ‘Jesa Jaisai’ fic where many things get messed up. I’m just hoping you’re all still enjoying it despite that little age difference thingie.

Also: (Don’t worry this is the last ‘also’) Some of you are wondering why Vegeta is being such a softie in this fanfic. Well for one, I like softies, and two, there are too many B/V Fics out there where he is almost too mean for anyone’s liking. I hope you all like the slight change. Perhaps it’s something in the R’haksin air, ne? ^_^

Anyway, enjoy the chapter! I will try for some happier ones from now on, OK?

Bulma realized her first mistake in brining the Roctorn infants into the Capsule Ship was that she had no idea what to feed them. After setting them down in the bathtub where she could keep track of them all, she filled it up with an inch of lukewarm water to soothe their rattled nerves. Ghost sat perched on the edge of the bathtub, watching the tiny creatures with curious blue eyes. She watched them splashing and mewling around in the water for a while before she noticed Vegeta standing in the doorway.

"How does your back feel?" she noticed with some disgust that he had not yet changed his shirt or cleaned the wounds. She still did not know how to react to him saving her life AGAIN. She sighed, supposing she would never figure the man out.

He shrugged, eyeing the Roctorns. "So have you decided what to feed them yet?"

She shook her head. "I thought warm milk…because…" she shrugged and trailed off. "Don’t all newborn animals drink their mothers milk the first few weeks?"

"Hn." He nodded.

"So then we should bottle feed them."

Vegeta glared. "I don’t exactly have any ‘baby bottles’ stored around here." He caught her intent. "And don’t you dare ask me to bottle-feed a bunch of mangy babies." He spat. "I still can’t believe I let you do this."

He came down and sat down beside her on the edge of the bathtub as they both watched the Roctorn babies. The red and black speckled one, who Vegeta was secretly trying to find a name for, was charging around the perimeter of the tub, swatting and batting mischievously at his brothers and sisters. He sat back on his haunches, opened his tiny mouth wide and yawned deep.

Bulma sneaked a quick peak at the Sayajin out of the corner of his eye. Why had he allowed her to do this, considering it was completely insane? She knew they were both thinking about the night not long ago when the Forae had attacked Bulma, and the other night, when she had crawled into his bed with him. That was what had started the fight, and they still hadn’t solved anything. It was his fault, though. He had no right to say what he said to her. She watched the tiny smile on his face when he watched them playing. Something had happened to the Prince since they had arrived on R’haksin. Something peculiar that had somehow softened his heart. Was it her doing? She still didn’t know.

Vegeta caught her looking and she looked quickly away, her cheeks heating as they usually did whenever he looked at her with those certain eyes of his. She tried a smile.

"Vegeta. You saved my life back there. And Ghost’s, too." She inched her fingers closer to his own. "Thank you."

He looked down. "Of course I did. I told you, woman, I’m not going to let anything happen to you while we’re here." He smirked cruelly. "It’d cause too much trouble back home with your insane family."

She punched him, forgetting about his wounds. By the wince on his face they weren’t just scratches. "Vegeta…" she sighed. "Turn around."

"Why?" he raised an eyebrow suspiciously.

"Because I’m going to clean you up, that’s why."

He inched down the side of the tub and shook his head. "I told you, forget about it. Its nothing to be worried about."

"Don’t be so damn stubborn." In a movement too swift for even him to counter she grabbed his shirt and yanked it up, displaying the deep, ugly red gashes and purple welts that covered his shoulders and lower back. Vegeta glared at his feet as he heard Bulma’s sharp intake of breath.

"Vegeta! These aren’t ‘scratches’!" she abolished sharply. "These will get very infected if you don’t clean them…" her voice trailed off as he stood and pulled his shirt over his head and then bent to undo his pants. He slid them off in one fluid motion, standing in front of her clad in his black boxers. Bulma stared. He smirked.

"So clean me."

She recovered from her initial shock and lunged angrily at him. "Vegeta! I didn’t say you had to get naked for Kami’s sake!"

He shrugged. "As you wish."

Bulma dove for him and caught his hand just as he was about to pull the boxers off. "Don’t!" she cried, trying not to let herself laugh. Vegeta sat back down on the side of the tub and by now, all ten of the Roctorn babies were on their hindlegs, staring at him in awe, all 60 of their tails wiggling. Bulma giggled at the looks on their faces.

"Are you going to clean my ghastly wounds or not, woman?" Vegeta growled, but there was no mistaking the humor in his voice. Bulma wiped her hands on her jeans and nodded. "Ok. But let me change into something else." She said.

"What about these things?" he pointed to the babies, who all fought to be the first to sniff his outstretched hand.

"I don’t know." She left before he could get another word in, and reappeared moments later in a pair of ratty jeans with holes in them and a black tube top. Her hair was pulled back from her face in a sloppy ponytail. She stared upon entering the bathroom; the tub was filled to the brim with water, and all 10 of the Roctorn babies swam around leisurely around the relaxed (and quite naked) form of Vegeta, who was shoulder deep in the water.

"Uhm…" she stood in the doorway, nervously toying with the bottom of her shirt. He looked over his shoulder. "I didn’t know what else to do with them." he said casually. "And I needed a bath anyway." He sent her his best smirk. "Besides, I can’t reach those wounds by myself, you know."

Bulma flushed hotly and glared back at his smirk as she approached the tub, trying to decide if she was comfortable with this or not. She seated herself on the edge of the closed toilet seat and positioned herself above his shoulders where she took a washcloth and gently began wiping away the crusted blood.

"None of that wussy hissing and whining, now." She said softly with a smirk of her own.

"Humph."

He gestured to the Roctorn infants. "I didn’t know they were able to swim. Especially at such a young age."

Bulma nodded and brought a handful of water up, pouring it over the wounds. "It is strange. What do you know about them?"

Vegeta shrugged and the powerful muscles in his shoulders flexed as he hunched forward. He closed his eyes against the sensation of Bulma’s warm hands running over his back.

"Not much." He said finally. "Enough to know that they’re going to be nearly as big as their mother in a couple of weeks." He shifted and turned around in the water, startling the little Roctorn’s as the small waves pushed them into the sides of the tub. "I know a Storkrin who may be able to help you out with these little shits." He said.

"They’re not ‘little shits’, Vegeta." Bulma frowned. "Can’t you be nice to anything?"

"His name is Strifelon." He ignored her and continued. "He is a Storkrin…what you humans call ‘wisemen’ a sort of blend between all knowing guru and medicine man."

Bulma picked small pieces of gravel and debris out of the giant cuts on Vegeta’s back. "How could he help ‘us’ out?"

"Weren’t you listening? I said he’s a guru. He knows everything there is to know about R’haksin wildlife. I’m sure once they are big enough we could dump them on him."

She shook her head. "Could he tell us any hints about looking after them?"

"I’m sure." Vegeta rolled his head on his shoulders, working out stubborn kinks and aches.

"When can we take them there?"

Vegeta shrugged. The small red and black Roctorn with the glinting, mischievous eyes crawled up on Vegeta’s raised knee. Growling a tiny growl in the back of his throat, he suddenly lunged off of his perch straight at Ghost, who chirped frantically and fell over backward. The Roctorn landed with a loud splash and surfaced seconds later, ears flattened against his head, tiny whiskers drooping. Vegeta chucked evilly.

"I agree that there is one good thing about these Roctorns." He said smugly. "This one seems to know exactly what’s best for that lint ball."

Bulma reached into the water and picked the Roctorn up. He growled softly and swatted playfully at her hands as she lowered him onto the floor at her feet. His nine brothers and sisters whimpered at his sudden absence, raising themselves up to try and peek a look at their much braver sibling.

"He’s not very nice to Ghost." Bulma said disapprovingly.

"That’s why he’s got style." Vegeta smirked. "He needs a name."

Bulma set the washcloth down and gaped openly at the back of Vegetas head. "A name?" she sputtered. "You, Mister high and mighty, want to give one of these ‘ugly monstrosities’ a name?" she shook her head. "You’re getting soft."

Ignoring her, he continued to watch the two playing on the floor. "Spider." He announced. "It suits him."

"You seem to know everything about him." she said flatly.

"I can sense many things. For one, he’s smart. Two, he’s got style…"

"And three?" Bulma asked.

"He’s going to make a great guard-dog."

"WHAT?"

* * *

Strifelon proved to be a guru in his own sense, Bulma could tell that the second she had stepped inside the strange workshop that served as his home. But he was also a complete psycho, she also realized very quickly. He was not nearly as tall as the other Storkrin she had seen, and she guessed him to be only at a height of 6’5, which was, for Storkrins, quite small. One could tell at first glance that he was elderly by the way he shuffled about the little room in a slow, slightly crooked manner. Beady red eyes hidden by drooping armored eyebrows peered at them with the usual expression of annoyance that the elderly wore on their faces, hidden by the typical brown hood that always covered the Storkrins faces.

Strifelon’s house was a small hollowed out crevasse deep within the red earth of R’haksin. Bulma could not deny that the trip down into it had been terribly hard. Not being able to descend the rocky steps on her own, Bulma had had to pass each tiny Roctorn infant into Vegeta’s arms one at a time, and then had sat down to wait until he could offer his assistance to her. The stairs had wound down spirally for what seemed like hours. Bulma supposed that he never left his quarters often, due to the exertion it had caused both she and Vegeta, she couldn’t imagine what it would do to him.

Now, as she cradled Ghost in her arms and pushed the hideous, makeshift ‘baby carriage’ full of mewling Roctrons in front of her, she realized she felt terribly uneasy standing beneath thousands of pounds of rock.

Vegeta stood close by her, holding ‘Spider’ in his own arms. Bulma had applied fresh bandages and gauze to the wounds on his back. They now hid beneath the familiar navy blue spandex that covered his body. The wriggling impatient Spider struggled in his arms, growling and swatting at everything that moved.

"Well, what do we have here?" Strifelon shuffled over to them, startling Bulma. She had nearly forgotten that he was there. Now as he approached them, ignoring the frantic Spider, he leaned over and peered into the strange cardboard box with wheels that they had made to transport the infants. He retaliated in horror.

"OUT!" he shooed his spindly arms at the two of them, his muzzle twisting into a mask of hate. "Get them out!"

Vegeta narrowed his eyes. "No." he said calmly. "We need your assistance."

Strifelon drew himself to his full height and got right up into Vegetas angry face. "Thossse are Roctorn infantsss, Prince. They will grow huge within weeksss."

"I know." Vegeta said angrily. "That’s why we came here."

Strifelon threw his arms in the air and spun around on his giant heels, nearly crashing into a shelf full of potions and vials. Bulma giggled in spite of herself, trying not to notice the look on the elderly Storkrins face as he heard her. "Please," she calmed herself. "I have a favor to ask."

Strifelon considered for a moment, then turned to her. "What of you, Earthling female? Would you have me take the infantsss for myssself?"

She shook her head. "Not right away. We’ve decided to nurse them until they are old enough to survive on their own. We will be leaving in a few weeks."

"Ah," He nodded his head knowingly. "You are infected, yesss?"

She nodded weakly.

"You come for the Psssyrim?"

Another nod.

Strifelon was silent for the briefest of seconds before he threw his arms up again, shaking his head profusely. "No, cannot, will not have any of it!"

Bulma furrowed her brows and looked pleadingly at him. "Please, Strifelon? If you are willing, would you care for the Roctorns after we have left?"

Strifelon was walking around the tiny room, picking up random things and studying them as if for potential value. He muttered to himself, then turned back to her.

"No need, no need. None of it. The Roctornsss will grow in two weeksss time. No need to leave them in care. No need."

Bulma looked to Vegeta, her eyebrows raised. He shrugged. "So what you’re saying is, by two weeks time they will have reached an age where they will be able to care for themselves, alone?"

"That’sss exactly what I sssaid, Prince!" Strifelon cried. " No need! Leave the infantsss."

Bulma couldn’t help but notice that Vegeta didn’t look as entirely relieved as she thought he would. She watched as Spider clambered up his neck and onto his shoulder, vanishing into the upsweep of black hair.

"All right then. There are a few more things we need to know." Bulma said. "What do they eat?"

Strifelon threw back his head and laughed, a surprisingly loud, piercing noise that echoed off the chamber walls and sent Ghost and the Roctorns scurrying for cover.

"EAT?" he cried. Still laughing, he edged over to Bulma and grinned crookedly at her. "They eat anything, human. But no greensss. None of it!"

‘None of it’ seemed to be the catch phrase of the day.

"So, they like to eat anything, they hate Vegetables, and they grow really fast." Bulma said. "Anything else? I mean…do we need to know anything specific, such as…" she wanted to say it, she truly did. The thought had been nagging at her in the back of her mind ever since they had brought the Roctorn’s into the ship. She swallowed. "Will they turn on us? I mean…if raised from such a young age, will enough trust be stabilized that they…" she trailed off.

Strifelon shook his head. "No need to worry, earthling female. Worry isss a foolisssh thing. None of it!" he extended a long clawed finger and brushed aside a strand of hair from her face. "The Roctorn infantsss will trussst you, if you love them." It was said in such an oddly gentle voice that Bulma suddenly reached out and impulsively hugged the giant creature. "Thank you." She said, drawing away quickly. Ignoring the look that Vegeta had plastered all over his face, she stepped back, gathered up Ghost securely in her arms and turned to her waiting Prince.

"Well?"

"Are you going to come with me? Or are you staying here with Dr. Brothers?" he growled.

Strifelon chuckled in his strange grating voice again. "The Prince hasss much inssside for you, human." He tapped his chest slightly, startling both of them into silence, and then suddenly threw his arms in the air again, muttering and shuffling back into the glow of his potions.

With their newly acquired ‘family’, the disgruntled Sayajin Prince and the earthling female turned and headed back toward their ship and the warmth of their beds.

Neither brought up the Storkrin’s words on the way back.