Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Lies, Deception, and a Baby ❯ Happy Endings are for Fairy Tales ( Chapter 19 )

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Warning: C'mon, it's the last chapter. I have to end it on a lemony note!! ^.^

Lies, Deception, and a Baby

Chapter 19: Happy Endings are for Fairy Tales

Nine Months Later …

Bulma solemnly gazed out the nursery window as her infant son, Trunks, drank greedily from her breast. She gently rocked back in forth in the old rocking chair, the same one her mother had used to rock her to sleep when she'd been a little girl. She'd moved it into the nursery, which adjoined her room, next to the window, so that she could look out at the spot where the gravity room/space capsule used to be, back when Vegeta was still living with them, before he'd gone off to train in space, leaving her all alone.

Sentimental fool, she cursed herself, even as her eyes remained fixated on the spot on the ground where the gravity room had sat for so long.

With a sigh, she finally managed to drag her eyes away from the window and pull them back into the room. They darted around the nursery, alighting on the cheery blue and yellow painted walls, the cute little white crib with the mobile atop, and the sleep sofa in the corner for nights when the loneliness in her bedroom grew so constricting that she had to escape her room and feel her son's presence nearby. For some reason, whenever she was near him, she didn't feel nearly as lonely as she did otherwise.

Maybe because her baby was a small part of Vegeta that would remain with her, no matter what. Unlike his father, he'd never leave her.

Until he grew up, and wanted to start spending more time with his friends that with his mom … then when he went off to college, and would hardly even call, let alone visit … and when he decided to start a family of his own …

Bulma choked back a sob. She hated this feeling that seemed to consume her more than ever as of late. She missed Vegeta all the time, and not a moment went by where he wasn't in the forefront of her mind, making the loss that much more profound. There was a loneliness, deep inside her, that clawed at her soul, hollowing it out, bit by bit. If this kept going on, then soon there would be nothing left. Just an empty woman, missing the most important part of herself.

Was that the kind of woman she wanted as a mother for her son?

Bulma's mind shied away from the subject, just as it had every time she had thought of it over the past nine months. Ever since she had told that last, horrendous lie to Vegeta, sending him away from her forever, she hadn't been able to forgive herself.

Why had she done it? Why had she pushed him away instead of letting him explain? Why hadn't she tried to work things out, not only for the sake of their child, but for the sake of her own heart and soul, which were withering away without him.

She still couldn't understand her own actions. She had been such a coward! Instead of having one final confrontation with him, in which she learned the truth about his feelings for her, she had chosen instead to avoid any conflict, driving him away from her with a brittle finality that still stung.

And he had gone, without a fight.

Perhaps that was what stung her the most. That he didn't even stick around to fight for her. He just gave up, just like that. When she told him to leave, he left. He didn't even care enough about her that he was willing to fight with her, for her.

As she put the sleepy little demi-Saiyan in her arms down for a nap, she told herself that she would stop going over all the `what ifs' and `could have beens' in her mind. Thinking about what she should have done now, much too after the fact to even matter, was just a pointless, fruitless endeavor that would only succeed in making her even more depressed than she already was.

Descending the stairs, Bulma walked to the kitchen, to prepare a bottle of formula for the next time Trunks woke up. Her simple, human mammary glands just couldn't keep up with her son's voracious Saiyan appetite, so she had to supplement her breast feeding with infant formula, for the sake of her own sanity. She wondered if Vegeta had been that hungry as a child, waking up every few hours in need of food.

That thought brought about another, about how it would feel if it were Vegeta suckling at her breast instead of Trunks, and Bulma could feel her body responding to just the thought of any possible contact with the man she loved.

No! she chastised herself, shaking the thoughts away. Stop it! Don't think like that!

But it was too late, thoughts of Vegeta had driven everything else from her mind. She felt as though she were watching him in her mind. Or rather, watching him watch her.

Bulma closed her eyes. There was something different about this Vegeta. He was a different man than the one that had left her so many long months ago. She couldn't quite pinpoint it, but the difference was there, and it was obvious.

For a moment, she thought she saw of flash of gold, but it was gone almost before it even started, and Vegeta vanished from her mind's eye.

Bulma blinked. Was she going crazy or something? She looked around, but she was all alone in the kitchen.

Then why had it felt as though he were really there, as though he was almost touching her, with his mind if not his body …

The shrill sound of the doorbell tore her from her thoughts, and she hurried to answer it, wondering who it could be.

Wondering if it could be him.

Could it be …?

It wasn't.

"Yamcha, how nice to see you," Bulma said with a fake smile pasted across her face. After the events following their failed sham of a wedding, the two had decided to remain friends, but nothing more. Yamcha had helped her out a lot during her pregnancy, taking her to Lamaze classes, making sure she ate right, and helping her fix up the nursery. But the pain of their breakup was still evident whenever anyone had unwittingly assumed that he was the father-the look of pain on his face was so comical sometimes that Bulma didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

She usually ended up crying.

Damn pregnant hormones, she would mutter to herself as the tears started falling, seemingly without cause.

"Happy birthday, Bulma!" Yamcha exclaimed, pulling her present out from behind his back and handing it to her.

Bulma blinked as she stared down at the colorfully wrapped package, drowned in frills and bows. Was it really her birthday already?

She sighed as she began the tedious process of unwrapping before the eager gaze of her ex-boyfriend. Great, now she was another year older, and with nothing to show for it! Not only was she alone and lonely, but she wasn't getting any younger, either.

Not that she could ever find a replacement for Vegeta in her life, even if she were …

When the last of the colorful paper fell away, Bulma gasped as Yamcha's present revealed itself to her. It was a framed picture of her and Trunks, taken the day she had first brought her son home from the hospital. The look on her face … she was trying to look happy, and a part of her was, but there was still that damn emptiness in her eyes. The emptiness that could only be taken away by the presence of her soulmate, a man who had left her for good nine whole months ago …

Bulma managed to hold back her tears as she thanked Yamcha with a hug.

Strange; she thought she heard a soft growl coming out of nowhere as she hugged the taller man.

She'd been hearing a lot of strange things as of late.

"Thank you, Yamcha, I love it. I'll treasure it forever." The smile she gave him was genuine this time, and Yamcha returned it with a goofy grin before waving goodbye and wandering out to his car.

With a weary sigh, Bulma closed the door and trudged back upstairs to put the picture on display in the nursery, where it belonged.

Too bad there were only two people in it, and not three.

But as she stepped over the threshold into the nursery, something caused her to look up, and she gasped, unable to move.

There, standing beside the crib where his son slept peacefully, stood Vegeta.

Bulma had never seen a more wonderful sight in her life.

He stood straight and proud, his arms folded across his chest, staring down at the sleeping child. He looked different, somehow, from the last time she'd seen him; a little more haggard, as though he'd been to HFIL and back. And the sheer power emanating from his well-muscled form was enough to make her think twice about arousing his anger.

Although, with all the feelings his sudden appearance brought to the surface within her, there were definitely some other parts of him that she would absolutely love to arouse …

"Why was he here?" He suddenly asked, abruptly, gruffly, never taking his eyes off his son.

Bulma blinked. "Who?"

"You know who," he growled.

He still refused to look at her, his eyes locked on his son's sleeping form.

"Oh, you mean Yamcha," she responded softly, her voice caressing her ex's name.

If Vegeta wanted to play games with her after being gone for so long, he'd find out that Bulma Briefs was a woman who could give as good as she got.

Vegeta growled at the way she said the human's name, but refused to reference it in his words. "Exactly. What is that asshole doing hanging around my son, my m-" He stopped himself abruptly, growling.

"At least he's around, unlike a certain Saiyan I could mention," Bulma shot out bitterly, before silently cursing herself. Did she really want to have this conversation with him, now of all times? Just when he comes back, would she drive him away again with bitter words that belied the truth in her heart?

His head shot up, and his eyes met hers. Bulma nearly withered under the awesome power of his gaze, but she steeled her spine and refused to cower in front of him.

"You told me to leave, Woman," he growled. "So I left. I respected your wishes. I'm not so masochistic that I would choose to spend my time with a woman who professes to hate me."

Bulma turned away; she couldn't face his gaze anymore. Not after listening to his words, and realizing just how true they were. She had screwed up, big time, in the midst of her pain, and as a result had caused her own sorrow for the past months. It wasn't Vegeta's fault, it was her own. Why did she always try to take the easy way out, lying through her teeth, thinking that it would be for the best?

Just look where all those lies had gotten her!

"I didn't mean it, Vegeta," she said softly, looking down at her feet, which had suddenly become incredibly fascinating. "I don't hate you. I just … I was just scared, so I lied about my feelings. I thought that if you went away, I could forget about you." She finally looked up again to meet his eyes. "But I couldn't. Just the opposite, in fact. After you left, I couldn't stop thinking about you." She couldn't stop the tears that began falling, either. "I missed you all day, every day. I kept wishing that you were there to see the birth of your son, or to hold me at night. I just … wanted you to be here." She shrugged, looking away again, uncomfortable with her admissions. Sure, this was no time for false pride or playing games, but telling the truth, laying her heart out on the line as she was doing, baring her soul … that was something that took a lot of courage. Especially when she didn't know what sort of response she would receive.

But all the same, she had to do it. She had to wash away all the lies and deceit that clouded their relationship. She had to tell him the truth for once, and let him decide what he wanted. If he wanted to stay with her and be a family, she would be overjoyed. If he couldn't overlook the past and wouldn't sully himself any longer with a human woman, then she would shed a few tears and try to move on.

Although, secretly, she thought moving on would be impossible. After all, she had been trying to move on for the past nine months, ever since he left. And all she had done was make herself sick with sadness. She didn't want to go through that again.

She wanted Vegeta to stay with her. To be her lover, to be a father to their son.

But she couldn't make him stay; he had to choose it, on his own.

A moment later, she felt something land against her foot. She looked down and saw a small, gift-wrapped box that Vegeta had tossed there. She looked up at him questioningly as she bent to retrieve it.

"Happy birthday, Woman," he murmured softly, intensely, his gaze locked on her face.

Bulma felt her heart skip a beat. He had remembered her birthday! Surely that had to be a good thing?

Slowly, she unwrapped the small present, revealing a square jeweler's box.

Bulma's heart began to race. It couldn't be what she thought it was … could it?

Opening the box, she realized that it could.

There in the center sat a beautiful diamond engagement ring.

"It's … beautiful," she whispered. Vegeta smirked. "But … how could you afford it?"

The smirk disappeared from his face, replaced by a scowl. "Stupid woman, didn't your mother ever tell you-what was that expression you humans use? Oh, right-to not look a gift horse in the mouth?" Then the smirk returned, along with a pleasant memory. "But to answer your question, let's just say that I got the ring, and the sales boy got to keep his pathetic weakling human life," he smirked.

Bulma had to hold back a giggle. "Oh, Vegeta! But … when did you get it?"

The smirk disappeared again, this time with no intention of coming back. "Nine months ago," he replied softly.

Bulma's head shot up in surprise. Nine months ago? That meant …

Her eyes widened. "You mean …" She stared at him helplessly.

Vegeta nodded. "I was on my way to give that to you when you decided you'd rather have the weakling," he growled.

"Oh, Vegeta, I didn't know! I thought … well, honestly, I thought you'd never marry me." Bulma blushed. "That's the only reason I went with Yamcha. I thought that I'd rather be married to anyone at all than to not be married." She shook her head and smiled at him. "But afterwards, I realized that I would rather be with you than married to anyone else at all."

Vegeta snorted. "It's true, I find your earth customs primitive and pointless, but …" he shrugged. "If it will get you to shut up and stop lying all the time, it's worth it."

Bulma giggled and smiled at him as she slipped the ring onto her finger, happier than she'd been in months. She was going to get married to Vegeta, and they would be a family!

"Oh, Vegeta, I love you so much!" she exclaimed, launching herself into his arms.

As he kissed her, she could feel his heated length pressing against his hip, and knew that he was just as eager as she was to be reunited fully as lovers. Neither of them needed any foreplay; the prolonged months of lonely waiting were enough anticipation for them.

"Please, Vegeta," Bulma moaned as his lips caressed her neck, "I need to feel you inside me, now!"

He growled against her throat, and she could feel him ripping apart her clothing.

When she realized that he meant to take her right there, standing, she said with a gasp, "Vegeta! Not here! The baby!"

His growl this time was more violent, filled with need, as he picked her up and stalked into their room, tossing her onto the bed before joining her.

His mouth hungrily enveloped hers as he tore away their lower layers of clothing and quickly plunged inside her.

Bulma let out a sigh of relief. It felt so good to have him inside her again, after such a long absence!

He started moving inside her, slowly at first, but increasing in pace until they moved in quick rhythm, synchronized. Bulma's fingers clutched at the rippling muscles of his back as she gasped and moaned beneath him, letting all the love she felt for him flow freely through her body. Surely he had to feel it; he had to know how she felt, after all they had been through.

But just in case he didn't know yet, she finally made her declaration as he burst within her.

"I love you, Vegeta!" she cried out as the force of her release swept over her body, making her shake and shiver at its intensity and sheer delight.

Vegeta simply groaned as he spilled into her, his face buried in the soft skin at the crook of her neck.

As they both descended from the pinnacle of heaven, her delicate hands stroked the sweaty, sculpted muscles of his back, releasing the tension within them, relaxing him.

She could feel his hot breath on the silken skin of her neck, as he breathed in her scent, kissing her there.

"Vegeta," she whispered, clutching his body to hers. "Please don't leave me again. I love you."

She felt his smirk against her neck. "Silly woman. Of course you do. I'm the Prince of all Saiyans!" he crowed smugly as he nuzzled the skin at the base of her ear. She noticed how he ignored her plea, and refused to respond to her declaration in any way other than through his pride.

She could feel a crack forming in her heart; slowly, it would break into two pieces. One holding her love for him; the other holding only tears and regrets.

She couldn't help the tear that slipped down her cheek, even as she turned her head away to shield it from his view.

But he noticed anyway.

Licking the tear away with his tongue, his husky voice filled her senses. "Hush, Woman."

She glanced at him nervously; there was something in his eyes that she had never seen before. Some strange emotion that he had kept well hidden until now. He seemed to be struggling with himself, an internal battle that played itself out upon his features.

"Woman, I … you …" he stopped himself, his face growing slightly red as a blush crept up his cheeks.

Then the familiar scowl returned, and he said with a deep-seated finality that she was sure he didn't feel, "You are tolerable, Woman."

With that said, he rolled over onto his back and pulled her into his arms, resting her head on his shoulder, so that she couldn't look into his eyes, couldn't see the expression on his face.

Bulma smiled. It didn't matter whether she could see them or not.

She knew the truth.

"I love you, too, Vegeta," she told him simply, pressing a small kiss onto his chest as she snuggled closer and let sleep claim her.

As she drifted into dreamland, she thought she saw a vision flashing past the backs of her eyelids, in a blur almost too quick for her to see.

Vegeta … smiling.

THE END

A/N: Well, there you have it. The last chapter of Lies, Deception, and a Baby. I'd like to thank all of my readers, ESPECIALLY everyone who reviewed (yes, even all those flamers! Some of them made me cry, but most of `em made me laugh after I got my sense of humor back! ^.~), but every reader counts, ne? So, should there be a sequel? Or should I give up writing fan fiction and climb back into my dark little whole? Maybe if you REVIEW, you can tell me what I should do! ^.~

Love, Tina