It was well past midnight.

I stared at him; he stared at me.

"Vegeta," I said finally. "I have something to say to you. As you know, you're a powerful Saiyan, and I'm a simple human-"

He cut me off. "You're not just a simple human. You're a magnificent warrior."

I don't mean to be boastful or conceited, but it was true. My mother had been accepted as a Faye - a race of peaceful healers and few warriors; however all of their warriors were kind and just; never cocky. She had been only half, though - she got it from her father - which leaves me only twenty-five percent Faye... and seventy-five percent human.

"Vegeta, I'm mostly human, and that would mean having non-purebred Saiyan children," I admitted. He had always wanted to have a perfect, purebred son of Saiyan descent. With me, his dreams could not be accomplished.

"Ramie. You know I- I..." He turned away from me. It broke my heart to know that he, whom was always so strong, was crying. I had brought him to tears.

"I love you, too, Vegeta." I extended my arm to caress his strong jaw line and turned him to face me. Though his face showed the marks of many battles, I still thought he was magnificent. Tearstains graced his calloused cheeks, and it reminded me of how fragile it all was.

Our love was a modern-day Romeo and Juliet story of epic proportions - Instead of two different families, we were two entirely different species. Saiyans always dove head-first into war; even their planet's main source of commerce was dominating other worlds and selling them to power-hungry tyrants that were rich enough to afford a "private island" that utterly huge. Even though it was business, it still revealed the dark side of all Saiyans.

It was only last year when Vegeta and I had first met. He had been trying to take control of Earth; I had looked on from the safety of a shelter and had found it both terrifying and exhilarating to watch how incredibly powerless we were against them... and how seemingly-immortal the Saiyans were.

Contrarily, The Faye race were a nearly-ageless people of healers and trustworthy individuals. We were very peaceful, and only a select few were ever chosen to be warriors. But for those who were; the results were astounding.

I had been the first mixed-race warrior chosen with less than fifty percent Faye blood running through my veins. The ceremony and training sessions were met with uncertainty and anxiety by many citizens, but I had eventually proved that my human determination increased my power to levels beyond prior limits.

They had all been shocked when I had left their planet to reside permanently on Earth, and they would be utterly disappointed in me - and maybe banish me forever - if they found out that I left solely for Vegeta... my love.

I snapped back to reality when he took my hands in his. My hands were dry and calloused from many years of healing, battling, and - my secret talent - playing the piano.

"Within these hands is the purest of energy; the ability to heal. It is an ability that, with every passing day, I wish I could possess more and more." I was going to tell him that the energy actually originated from my stomach chakra and then flowed to my hands through a microcrystalline thread, but it didn't matter.

I looked at him. "you know that one cannot heal themselves. Even the most prestigious masters of the art of healing can't even repair their most shallow paper cut."

"I want to be able to heal you, for once." Ah. So that was it; his secret dream. He wanted to be able to pull me from the brink of death as many times as I had for him. I had originally presumed that he wanted to be able to heal himself, and no longer need me on that behalf; considering how independent he absolutely adores to seem. I had been way off. I sighed.

"Vegeta. I love you. Whether or not you possess that ability or not isn't going to affect how I feel for you; we've already overcome so much together." Like age difference. He was almost thirty, while I appeared to be fourteen. Now I must reflect back to my earlier comment of "nearly-ageless people." Because of my Faye heritage, I looked fourteen. In actuality, I was well over eighty. Social standards said I was much too young to be with him, whereas factual ones replied that I was much too old. But, of course, we had fallen in love, so it didn't matter to us what anyone else said.

He furrowed his eyebrows in his contemplating fashion, and asked: "What will happen when I'm old, and you'll only appear to be what my age is now?"

I should tell him that we're lucky; that purebred members of the Faye species could live easily a thousand years without appearing a day older than ten... but that wouldn't change the facts. I honestly hadn't the faintest clue how to repeal the age issue, no matter how many nights I lie awake until sunrise attempting to come up with new solutions to the problem. None were found to be realistic, however, and these days I was starting to feel panicked. Soon the lines of his fiery anger, the graceful dimples when he really smiles, and even crow's feet trailing from the corners of his stark eyes would appear and never go away; meanwhile, I'll be here and not reveal the visible effects of aging for a few hundred years.

But I was willing to do anything to keep us together. "Well, then, I guess we'll have to make it work, as we have with everything else."

"What about future children? What will they think?"

"You mean our chunky medleys of Saiyan, Faye, and Human blood?" He chuckled at that. "Well, actually, I've been meaning to tell you something."

His eyes grew wide. "You... are you pregnant?"

"The name is non-negotiable if it's a girl; I'm naming her Margot."

"You're PREGNANT?!?!"

"Um, yes. thanks so much for your obvious enthrallment."

His eyes softened. "I'm sorry, Ramie. It's just that I didn't expect it so soon-" We fell into each other’s arms. "How long have you known?" he managed after about a minute or so.

"A few weeks," I answered honestly. "Sorry for keeping it from you; I was just waiting for the right moment to..." I trailed off as I was distracted by his beautiful, deep maroon eyes. A lock of my gently curled ebony hair came loose from behind my left ear. He retained his gaze into my snowy violet eyes as he tucked it back into place, and then he advanced towards me. I did the same.

Our lips met with one of the most passionate kisses either of us has ever experienced together. I was so lucky to have him as my own. I completely, utterly, and irrevocably loved him, as he loved me. And that would never change, as long as we both shall live.