Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ AFTER THE KISS ❯ Chapter 8 ( Chapter 8 )

Disclaimer: I don't own Dragonballz nor am I making any money off this story. I'm just having a wee bit of fun.

AFTER THE KISS

*Chapter 8*

Vegeta landed the space capsule outside the city, then encapsulated it and flew to Capsule Corporation. He had a pretty good idea of what kind of reception he would receive, but he knew he should at least try and return the capsule. After all, it isn't technically stealing if you return it, right? That's just borrowing without permission.

Everything looked the same, which he found oddly comforting. There'd been no signs of mass destruction as he orbited the planet and the lack of urgent activity seemed to confirm his calculation that the androids had not yet made an appearance. The Capsule Corporation compound looked different somehow and it took him several seconds to realize what had changed. The gravity room was gone.

Of course, it would be wouldn't it? No reason to leave it out with him gone. He wondered where it had gone and an image of Bulma smashing it to bits with a very large hammer went through his brain. He grinned at the thought, ridiculous as it was. The gravity room had been built of a titanium alloy and couldn't have been smashed by a weak Earth female with a hammer even if she spent the rest of her life trying.

He landed near the back door, hoping to pass unnoticed into the kitchen where he might get something to eat before facing anyone. He had eaten the last of his food fifty-two hours ago and he was ravenous. He pawed through the refrigerator and had just found some chicken that looked promising when Mrs. Briefs entered the room.

"Vegeta! How wonderful! Teddy said you'd be back soon. He's been monitoring your approach with the satellite system." She actually walked over and embraced him in a "hug", an Earth greeting he'd previously managed to avoid, but the open refrigerator doors blocked his escape.

"So what did you think?" Mrs. Briefs asked when she finally released him.

"What did I think about what?"

"Well, you know. . ." she hinted with an infuriatingly knowing smile.

"No, I don't," he said, beginning to get irritated. He hadn't eaten in over two days and this idiot wanted to play guessing games? He grabbed the chicken, dodged around Mrs. Briefs and headed for the table.

Mrs. Briefs snatched away the chicken, deftly avoiding Vegeta's grab to get it back. "Let me warm that up for you, Vegeta. You don't want to eat it cold." She put the plate of chicken in a cooking machine, punched some buttons and then turned to him with renewed vigor.

"I'm talking about Bulma's surprise, silly! What did you think?"

"I haven't seen Bulma," he said. "I wanted something to eat."

"You haven't seen Bulma? Oh! Well, you wouldn't know yet and I can't say anything." She put a fist to her lips and made an odd twisting motion. It was a gesture that was lost on Vegeta but every other being on the planet would recognize it as having to "lock" your mouth to keep a secret. The machine behind her beeped and she retrieved the food and then bypassed giving it to Vegeta to set it on the table. "Here you go! All warmed up and ready to eat. Now, as soon as you finish you go see Bulma, she's in her office in the business wing. Is this your bag? Silly me, of course it is! I'll just go put it in your old room for now. But I won't be surprised if you move it after you've seen Bulma!"

Her voice carried off down the hall, not that Vegeta had been paying much attention after the food had been given back to him. It did taste better warm, he had to admit, although it would have been superior to anything he'd eaten in the last year had it still been cold.

After he finished eating, he looked around for his bag of capsules before he remembered Mrs. Briefs said something about moving it to his room. Hmmph. It won't be my room for long, he thought. It may still be your house, Mrs. Briefs, but your daughter will burn the place down before she shares a roof with me again.

Which means I probably should shower now before she throws me out, he thought and headed upstairs. As the warm water coursed over his body, he wondered about the "surprise" Mrs. Briefs had talked about. She had acted like it was going to be something pleasant, which he knew couldn't be true. It was more likely that it was some machine developed with the exclusive goal of killing him. His lips twisted at the thought, amused, but unconcerned. Better races than humans had tried to kill him and failed. As much as he hated to disappoint Bulma by not dying if she attacked him, he would not miss his appointment with destiny. First the androids and then Kakarott. He popped the capsule that contained Earth clothing and dressed.

No, he corrected, first Bulma.

********************************************************* ***********************************

"He's back."

Bulma immediately recognized Chi-chi's voice on the other end.

"Vegeta? How do you know?"

"Goku said he felt his ki on Earth this morning."

"This morning! And you just now called me?"

"Sorry, but Goku actually hung around all morning and helped me in the house. Typical. He won't leave when I actually need him too. Look, I've kept your secret this long, which hasn't' been easy. I wasn't going to blow it now by calling and warning you in with him here. He has hearing that makes a dog look deaf."

"Sorry, thanks for the heads up. I suppose I need to have a conversation with my father about keeping this from me."

"Where's Trunks?" Chi-chi asked.

"He's here with me being a good little boy," Bulma said, smiling down at the baby in the baby seat on the floor by her chair. Being the boss definitely had its advantages. Some days she didn't want to leave her baby so she just brought him with her. She reached down to tickle Trunks's feet. He giggled with the absolute glee only babies and small children can muster.

"Well, if he hasn't shown up yet maybe he won't," Chi-chi said.

"If he has any sense of decency he won't; but I'll don't think he has any sense---"

Bulma suddenly heard elevated voices outside her office.

"Sir, you can't just barge in there!" Bulma heard her receptionist say.

"I don't think you can stop me, but I'm willing to let you try," a familiar voice said.

"I'll call security if you don't leave now."

"Listen Chi-chi, I've got to go. Bye."

"What---?!" Click.

Bulma opened the door to see her receptionist standing gamely in front of her door, arms held wide to stave off any possible penetration on the part of the intruder. Bulma made a mental note to give the receptionist hazard pay, even though she'd been hired months after Vegeta had left and couldn't possibly know she was putting her life in jeopardy.

The intruder stood in the center of the reception area, arms crossed over his chest, an all too familiar smirk gracing his features. It was like he'd never left. Bulma felt a rush of something course over her body as she looked at him. She refused to define exactly what she felt at that moment, but there was no doubt his presence affected her far more strongly than she liked.

"It's OK, Jean," she said. "I'll see him."

Jean turned with some surprise; Bulma never saw visitors without an appointment and certainly not visitors who looked like. . . that! This man somehow projected the relaxed menace of a tiger. She reluctantly dropped her arms and took her seat, but kept her fingers near the phone to call security-just in case!

Bulma turned and walked into her office, waited for Vegeta to follow her inside, then shut the door. She walked around to her desk and gave a quick glance at Trunks as she sat down. He was dozing, thank goodness. She finally looked Vegeta in the eyes.

They were black, as always. Were you expecting something else, Bulma? her brain asked. Or were you hoping for something else?

Shut up, Bulma thought. I don't need that shit right now.

"Well, what do you want? You must want something to come over here and terrorize my receptionist," she said.

She looked beautiful, as always. Her hair was cut shorter, but it suited her. Her figure appeared fuller somehow, but it didn't seem to be extra body weight; it was something else he couldn't quite describe. There is one other change, he thought. She didn't smile.

He wordlessly tossed the capsule containing her ship to her. Bulma snatched it out of the air and read the contents label.

"Does it still work?" she asked.

"It did when I landed, although the hydraulic system could use an overhaul. The thruster vents were slow to open."

They stared at each other, neither willing to speak, yet both unwilling to end the moment. All of the horrible things Bulma swore she'd say to him when he showed back up didn't even cross her mind. He looks good, she thought and she realized that she had unconsciously been worried about him the past year and a half. Worried that he might be hurt or even killed. Worried that he might not come back. He smells good, too, she thought, breathing in his freshly showered scent. No cologne could smell as good as freshly showered Vegeta.

When the urge to do or say something stupid became overwhelming, Bulma finally broke eye contact and reached down to pull open the bottom drawer in which she'd placed the gravity room capsule, bumping Trunks baby seat in the process. Trunks's eyes opened and he began to squirm, finally tired of the baby seat. Bulma quickly snatched the capsule from the drawer and tossed it to Vegeta.

"There! I suppose you want that."

Vegeta read the capsule contents, then tossed the capsule back to her. Bulma, distracted by Trunks who looked like he was about to verbally demand to be taken out of the baby seat, almost didn't catch it this time.

"The gravity room is no longer necessary," Vegeta said. "I have become a Super Saiyan."

Bulma stopped trying to rock the baby seat with her foot and looked at Vegeta. Her first reaction was joy for Vegeta (He'd worked so hard!) and for a nano-second she knew it showed on her face. She killed it quickly and tried to look indifferent.

"Congratulations," she said. "You must be very proud of yourself; but then, you always are."

Whatever Vegeta might have said was lost because at that moment Trunks wailed.

It was difficult to say who was more appalled at the sound---Bulma, who for some extremely short-sighted reason had decided this was not the moment to share Trunks with Vegeta; or Vegeta, whose sensitive Saiyan ears found the pitch to be particularly annoying.

"What the hell is that noise?" he demanded.

Bulma swallowed.

"A baby," she said helplessly.

"Well, shut it up!"

Vegeta watched as Bulma reached down beside her desk and picked up a child. She cradled it against her shoulder, rubbing its back as she made some soothing sounds in the baby's ear. Mercifully, it quieted immediately. He considered the child. If Bulma considered her coloring "unusual", this child's was bizarre. Purple hair. Even more bizarre was Bulma's apparent familiarity with it. There was a confidence to her movement that belied a comfort with this child that did not fit with the discussions Bulma and her mother had carried on during dinner occasionally. From what he could recall, Bulma's opinion on the matter of babies was "smelly and noisy."

"Whose child?" Vegeta asked.

"Mine."

Vegeta blinked, considering the implications. So she has moved on. The weakling or someone else? Jealousy surged as it sunk in that she had given herself to another. It didn't matter if that was what he said he wanted; for her to no longer be an opportunity for distraction. He was jealous and he hated himself for it.

"Who's the lucky father?" he asked because he could not stop himself.

He saw Bulma's jaw tighten into a grim line, then relax.

"No one you know," she said, meeting his eyes. There was something in them, he thought. A challenge? A dare? He couldn't decipher it and she looked away, back to the child. Her lips moved in a faint whisper against the child's cheek, but his Saiyan hearing caught it.

"I'm sorry, Trunks."

Something about that moment made Vegeta particularly uncomfortable and shifted his weight from one foot to the other. He should leave. . . .

"There is another thing," he said, remembering. "Your mother has invited me to stay at Capsule Corporation again. Given our. . .history, I wanted to know your feelings on the matter."

"Since I don't stay there anymore, I couldn't feel less."

"Where do you stay?"

"Somewhere else."

Vegeta clenched his jaw to prevent himself from demanding "Where?" This was pointless. Bulma Briefs, where she stayed, the father of her child and the child itself were no longer part of the equation. He had returned the ship. He had confirmed she had no objections to him staying at Capsule Corporation. Anything else should be beneath his notice. But I will always notice her, he thought truthfully. In an infinite universe with billions of beings, she will draw my eye. He looked at her. . .

And my heart, he admitted. I was foolish to think otherwise.

She was looking at the child again, softly rubbing her lips back and forth on his check. Her lips had grazed his body in the same manner so many times. He knew they were feather soft and her breath was warm; her hair had echoed the movement of her head, teasing shivers from him where it touched. . . . He was hard as a rock at the memory. He turned to leave before desire made him do something he would regret. His hand turned the knob and pulled open the door.

"There is one other thing. Your mother seems quite certain you have a surprise for me," he said without turning.

"I have no idea what she's talking about," Bulma said.

I thought as much. He left her office.

After he left, Bulma took a deep, shuddering breath.

"You know, Trunks, your mother may be a bona fide genius, but sometimes she sure can be stupid."

What was I thinking? How long do you think you can keep this secret from him? Five minutes? Ten? I've had months to prepare for this. I even practiced what I would say. Then he shows up and *BAM* I'm a puddle of goo.

That was, of course, the real problem. The "I'm Over Vegeta" celebration was a little premature. She wasn't "over" Vegeta. Now she wondered it she ever would be.

How can he still affect me like that? What is it about him that makes me throw common sense out the window? How can I protect Trunks if I can't even protect myself?

Now that Vegeta was back, Bulma's certainty that Vegeta would have no interest in his child began to waiver. He was certainly self-centered enough that you could believe no one else could interest him, but children had never been a topic of conversation between them. For all she knew, there might be some kind of Saiyan "honor code" where children were involved. He might think it his duty to take Trunks from her and raise him in some sick Saiyan fashion. Until he loses interest, that is, and until he gets bored with it. It might be something new to entertain him, like I was, but eventually it will become a choice between himself and Trunks and we all know who wins that contest, right?

I won't let that happen to my son. Better he have no father at all than one who'll throw him back when he's finished.

********************************************************* ******************************

Vegeta walked back to the Capsule Corporation living quarters disturbed by his encounter with Bulma. He'd known it would be awkward seeing her again, but he been surprised at how strongly their brief affair could still affect him. Nappa had been his loyal retainer for years-he practically raised Vegeta after the destruction of planet Vegeta (by Saiyan standards, anyway)-and yet he had felt next to nothing as he killed him for losing to Kakarott. He still only felt mild regret and then only because the man was one of the last surviving Saiyans, not out of any emotional bond.

As he looked into Bulma's unsmiling eyes today, however, he'd felt more than regret. He'd felt a deep sadness in his heart, like he'd broken something beautiful for no reason. There was a reason, he insisted. A warrior cannot have ties to claim him from battle. I cannot sleep in her soft bed with her soft heart. It will make me weak.

Yet somehow all his rationalizations felt false. Kakarott had a woman and he wasn't weak.

Kakarott is an idiot, he thought. And soon he will be dead.

"So you've seen Bulma! What do you think?" Mrs. Briefs appeared out of nowhere and latched onto his arm. "He's adorable, isn't he?"

Damn woman! How can she sneak up on me like that?

"Who's adorable?"

"Baby Trunks, of course. Isn't he just the cutest thing?"

The baby. Vegeta extricated his arm and tried to be about his way.

"Yes, he's the 'cutest thing'," he said in a tone he hoped conveyed his total disinterest in the topic.

"Oh, you're disappointed, aren't you?" Mrs. Briefs said. "Because he doesn't look like his father."

Now here was a topic Vegeta suddenly found himself interested in. Yes, the father, he thought jealously. If Mrs. Briefs was good for nothing else, she was a never-ending fount of information. He faced her and crossed his arms over his chest, letting Mrs. Briefs's mouth run its course.

"I know at first glance he doesn't take after you, but you should see him when he gets angry. I swear he looks just like you. And his lungs! That boy can wake the dead when he yells, but he could get that from Bulma too!" She smiled and waited for Vegeta to say something, but he didn't. He blinked slowly and cocked his head to the side, as if he was replaying some conversation in his mind. His brows furrowed and his lips drew into a grim line. Mrs. Briefs swallowed at the sight, but continued on.

"Or are you angry because Bulma cut off Trunks's tail? I told her we should wait on you (he did get it from you, after all,) but she said it would be best to do it when he was newborn rather than when he was older."

Again Vegeta said nothing. Then finally he reached out and held Mrs. Briefs by the shoulders and looked her in the eyes.

"I'm going to ask you something," he said with a calm he did not feel. "And you will answer "yes" or "no". You will not go off into some story about Susan Porter's party or how your roses won't bloom. Do you understand?"

Mrs. Briefs nodded wordlessly.

"Am I the father of Bulma's baby?"

"Vegeta, what a question---"

Vegeta held up a hand, silencing her.

"'Yes' or "no'," he insisted.

"Yes," she said, bewildered.

He removed his hands from her.

"Thank you. Leave me," he said.

Mrs. Briefs, relieved the odd exchange was over, nodded and scuttled out of his way.

She lied to me, he thought. She lied to me.

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Notes: This chapter took longer than I wanted, but I wanted to get just the right tone for their reunion. Thank you for reading (as always) and please send me a review so I'll know if you like the story. If you want me to email you when I update, just leave your email in a review.

And thanks to Ember for beta-ing. What a gal!