Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Decoding the Saiyan ❯ Salad ( Chapter 18 )

Disclaimer: I don't own Dragonball Z.

A/N: The prompt for this chapter was `salad' from the Fruit Salad Challenge on Blue & Black.

Salad

Bulma sat in a chair in the living room, pushing a half-eaten salad around her plate with a fork as she frowned dejectedly at the mix of greens. What she really wanted was a big piece of chocolate cake with extra whipped cream and a cherry on top, not all this healthy stuff.

“I didn't think you were a salad kind of girl.”

She looked up at the comment, pouting as she watched Yamcha take another huge bite of pizza. Puar sat beside him on the couch, eating through a third can of tuna fish.

“I'm not,” she replied, and placed her plate on the floor with distaste. Stretching her body across the length of the couch, she sighed, and patted her slightly rounded stomach. “But I have to lose the baby weight. It's already been two months, and I'm still chunky.”

Yamcha didn't reply immediately, having just shoved an entire piece of pizza in his mouth. Bulma rolled her eyes at the sight, and screwed her nose up in disgust. “Ugh,” she spat, “I swear, sometimes your eating habits are as bad as Goku's.”

Yamcha laughed at the comment through his mouthful of food, but this quickly turned into a wheezing choke as he sucked something down the wrong way, and she watched as Puar thumped him on the back, a worried expression on the little cat's face. “You shouldn't eat so fast, Yamcha!” the cat squeaked as Bulma stood up and poured a fresh glass of water from the jug on the coffee table. “You could choke and die!”

Red-faced and wheezing, Yamcha shook his head, and gratefully took the glass of water she offered him. He was still chugging it down when the baby monitor on the coffee table lit up, Trunks' wails echoing through the device.

“I'll be back,” she said with a sigh, leaving Yamcha in Puar's flustered care.

. . .

Changed, dressed, and fed, Trunks lay contentedly on the bed, waving his little arms in the air as his bright blue eyes followed her across the room. She pulled off the shirt she was wearing, glancing at the clock on the way to her dresser. Between changing and feeding her fussy baby, who had just had the grace to spit up all over her shoulder, half an hour had passed, and she wondered whether Yamcha and Puar had bothered to wait around for her to come back.

She sniffed at her bare shoulder, decided that she didn't smell too much like baby shit and vomit, and pulled on a fresh shirt and jumper. She caught sight of herself in the mirror, sighed at the sight of her stomach- she had hoped she'd be back to her old size, by now- and told herself that she'd start exercising, even if it just meant taking Trunks for walks around the compound in his pram.

“Come on bubs,” she said, pulling a blue, cat-eared hat over her child's head, before picking him up in her arms. He gurgled and smiled at her, and her heart melted at the sight of his gummy grin. Kissing his chubby cheeks, she shut her bedroom door behind her, and headed back down the hall.

Yamcha had waited around. She stood just outside the entrance to the living room, watching him from across the room as he stood on the balcony, leaning casually against the railing. The cold winter wind had picked up; from where she stood she could feel it blowing in through the open ranch slider door, and she pulled the edge of Trunks' cap further down over his ears in automatic response.

Yamcha hadn't noticed her presence, and stood with his back towards her, looking up at the fading light in the sky. For the first time in a month it had been a clear- though still cold- day, and from where she stood Bulma could see the first emerging stars shining just above the horizon.

She took the opportunity to examine Yamcha without him noticing; even after a year and a half without contact, he was still startlingly familiar, and yet there was a sense of strangeness between them, a wall that had never been there before. She examined him with a sense of detachment; he had wide shoulders and a strong back, and the cock of his head, even as he stood in rest, betrayed both confidence and strength. No wonder so many women throw themselves at him, she thought suddenly, her eyes widening as she realised what she had just admitted to herself.

She still found him attractive. The sudden realisation sent a twinge through her and stirred up a sick feeling in her gut that left her more confused than ever. They had never really been right for each other- deep down, she had always known that, always known that in some way they had both just settled- and yet here he was at her house, eating her food and lounging around like he owned the place, as if nothing had changed ever between them.

And yet it had. Awkwardness hung in the air, conversations continuously lulled, and although she was sure that in time it all would fade, she knew that it would never truly go away. They'd both hurt each other too deeply the last time they'd been together, and there are only so many bouts of on-again, off-again one can take before throwing in the towel for good.

And now she had a baby to another man; a man she still loved, despite his sour demeanour and altogether lack of commitment. Her heart twisted at the thought of Vegeta; with only four months to go before the arrival of the Androids, she found herself in a constant state of tension, worrying about the impending battle, wondering if Vegeta had become a Super Saiyan at last, hoping- yet dreading at the same time- that Vegeta would return for the battle with Gero's machines.

And what then? She refused to think about the possibility that Vegeta might die in the battle, but if he survived- if he succeeded- what would happen next? Would he simply leave, and never return? Would he try to kill Goku? Or would he stay, and live here with her and their child?

She could have stood there- staring at Yamcha's back and trying to make sense of her feelings for either man- for a great deal longer, but Trunks had grown bored, and let out a single, loud screech designed to get her attention. The noise made her jump with fright, and Yamcha turned, catching sight of them.

She crossed the living room floor, gurgling baby in her arms, and stepped out onto the balcony. Trunks squirmed as the cold air hit him, burying his face in her chest in order to get away from the icy wind, and Bulma watched as the fur on his tail puffed out in response to the chilled air.

“Where's Puar?” she asked quickly to hide the fact that Yamcha had caught her standing and staring.

“He's got a date.”

“What?” she asked incredulously, not bothering to hide the look on her face. Yamcha laughed and scratched at his jaw absentmindedly, his eyes lit with humour.

“Yeah, I was about as surprised as you are when he told me,” he replied. “But then I guess we shouldn't be; he's in his mid-twenties, after all. Guy's gotta get some action, sometime.”

“But…” Bulma spluttered. “He's a cat.”

Yamcha laughed even harder at that, leaning heavily on the railings, his back shaking with mirth. “Where…” he began, collapsing into another fit of laughter. Drying tears from his eyes, he began again. “Where did you think kittens came from?”

She shook her head and lifted her face, watching the sky grow darker and darker by the second. Yamcha's laughter died down, and they stood in silence for a moment, taking in the winking lights of the sky above, mirrored by those in the city below.

“It's a cat-girl from the village where he was born,” Yamcha said suddenly, his voice quiet. “They're all like Puar, there.”

“Are they all shape shifters?” she asked. She was surprised, and a little ashamed, to realize that she knew so little about Puar's history. She'd always thought of Puar in relation to Yamcha, and it had never occurred to her that the little cat might need, or have, a love life. It seemed obvious now; he wasn't even really a cat, just a cat-like person, and she knew that there was many more of his kind in existence.

“Nah,” Yamcha replied. “Some of them are- the school isn't far from where they live- but most of them do other things. Act in cat food commercials and movies and other stuff. It's a lot easier to work with a cat that talks and actually knows what it's doing, rather than the regular ones.”

“Huh.”

The stood in silence once more, tension thick in the air. Trunks whined against her shoulder, and she rocked him gently, kissing his small, covered head.

“Have you met her?” she asked suddenly, looking up at Yamcha.

“Who?”

“Puar's date.”

Yamcha shook his head in reply, his eyes gazing over the view of the city. “Nah. We'll see how it goes. It makes me wonder, do you think they make condoms for cats?”

“Yamcha,” she replied with disdain, although she couldn't hide the smile on her face. “That's gross. I really don't want to think of little Puar like that.”

“I'm just saying. Don't want any accidents happening. It would be hard, I reckon, to have a kid with someone you hardly know.”

“Hm,” she muttered, shifting Trunks in her arms, knowing full well that Yamcha was no longer referring to Puar.

“People are entitled to make their own decisions, Yamcha.”

“I thought you said the kid was a mistake.”

“I thought we were talking about cats,” she replied pointedly. “And no; Trunks was an accident, but he's definitely not a mistake.” She looked down at the baby in her arms, who grinned up at her in response. “He was meant to be,” she whispered quietly. “I know it.”

“Whatever.”

She bit her tongue, only just refraining from saying Get over it. She had to give him credit for trying; after all, he had been exceptionally good to her when Trunks was born, and since then had visited every few weeks. It was nice to have their friendship back, and she didn't want to lose it.

“It's cold out here,” she said after another bout of silence. “We should go inside.”

“Yeah, I better head off anyway,” he replied. “I've gotta train in the morning. Hey look; the full moon is out.”

She had been facing Yamcha, but turned now in the direction he was pointing. She looked for only a moment before Trunks made a strange, strangled noise- almost a growl- that drew her attention.

“Oh kami!” she screamed, noticing for the first time that her baby's eyes glowed red, fangs suddenly protruding from his mouth. He grew suddenly, exploding out of his clothing, and she staggered, breathless and too shocked to scream, under his increasing weight as he began to sprout fur.

“Shit!” she heard Yamcha exclaim as she fell backwards, but her attention was focused solely on the growing creature- now the size of a gorilla- that was crushing her with its terrifying weight, its face growing more and more distorted as a harsh growl rumbled through its growing snout.

And then the creature was shrinking once more, snout and fur and glowing eyes disappearing with a dying growl that quickly became a scream, and she watched from the ground as Yamcha deftly caught her child in one arm, his other hand clutching a large, furry tail.

The tail dropped to the ground with a thud, and Yamcha reached out with his free hand towards her. “Fuck!” he exclaimed, disgust, horror, concern and shock all playing out on his features. “Bulma, are you okay?”

He had Trunks tucked carelessly under his arm like a football, and the baby was screaming, his little face bright red with the effort. She watched as a steady stream of blood ran from the open wound on Trunks' back, and felt the panic rise within her. She couldn't breathe properly, couldn't move her arms, and a hundred different places in her body burned as if she were on fire. Her vision swam, bright dots appearing before her eyes, and she heard herself cry “My baby!” once before she slipped into darkness.

. . .

A/N: Sometimes when I write, completely unexpected things pop up. Talking about Puar's love life was one of them, and although I usually chop bits like that out, I liked the scene too much to cut it. I have to say, the idea probably popped into my head because I've read catgirl26's Vengeance multiple times (it's the best BV I have ever read, and I've read A Lot). If you've read it, you know what I'm talking about in regards to Puar, and I applaud catgirl26 for daring to go there and want to give her credit for making me think of Puar as more than just a cat. If you haven't read it, definitely do!

In regards to the moon, Kami restored that after it got blown up in Dragon Ball (from what I remember werewolves and wolf-men were stuck in the wrong form, and having no moon would seriously mess with tides and the ecosystem etc), and I like to think that he restored it again after Piccolo destroyed it in DBZ.