Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Only What You Can Give ❯ Yamcha Returns ( Chapter 9 )

Yamcha could not keep the smile of anticipation from his face. Homecomings with Bulma were always earth-shattering. No matter how bad their parting might have been, he could always count on her effusive and enthusiastic greeting, accompanied by a night of the best sex Yamcha had ever experienced. He rang the doorbell at the front and her mother answered. He gave her a warm smile.

"Hi, is Bulma home?"

"Yes, but I'm not sure she can see you right now."

He shrugged. "I'll wait."

Brushing past her even as she tried to politely refuse him entry and he found the kitchen and sat down to wait. Nine months was a hell of a dry spell for him. Usually he managed to find something pretty in the villages near his desert training sight, but this time the fathers had been wise to his tactics and flatly refused him entry into the village proper. He picked up an apple and bit into it, savoring the sweet taste. He missed fruit in the desert. One day he would find himself a woman who was more than a good lay, until then, Bulma would do. Speaking of which, where was his horny little bitch?

Impatience overriding what few manners he did possess, he decided to go look for her. The gravity chamber sat empty and in one piece, so she was not making repairs there. Her workroom was dark, which was strange because it was not even midday yet. Her room was as untidy as ever, and just as empty as they rest of the place. A frown now permanently fixed to his face he descended into the basement to see if she was in one of the bigger robotics workrooms.

He found her bent awkwardly over a desk, her eyes almost level with the circuit board she was working on, her back to him. What she was doing looked delicate, but he didn't care. He wanted to throw her over the desk, enter her from behind, and fuck her until he came. Knowing her, though, she would not like that at all. She wanted things like a relationship and foreplay. So he cleared his throat softly to announce himself. She glanced over her shoulder at him then turned back to her work.

Yamcha felt anger bubble up inside him. The bitch was ignoring him! She couldn't still be mad at him. He cleared his throat again, to give her a second opportunity to acknowledge him and redeem herself. She didn't so much as look at him this time.

"You really ought to see a doctor. It sounds as though you picked up a nasty cough. Please stay away from me. I can't afford to get sick right now."

"I'm not sick."

"Then stop hacking like an asthmatic dog and leave me alone. I think I made it quite clear that you were no longer welcome here. In fact if Vegeta were to return here, I would not try to stop him if he decided to separate your head from your shoulders."

"You hate me that much."

"I do not love you if it is the same thing."

He entered the room, slamming aside a partially finished robot that blocked his path. "So who is he? Huh? Was he a good fuck? He must have been good if you won't even look at me!"

"Go away, you wouldn't understand."

"Oh I wouldn't, would I?"

He made a grab for her shoulder, but he never made it. He had the strange sensation of being jerked backwards and flying through the air under someone else's power. Then his head contacted the wall and he blacked out for a second. When his vision cleared again he saw Bulma standing with her back to him, talking to Vegeta. Yamcha swore softly as he pushed himself to his feet, the Saijin had gotten in his way for the last time. Vegeta noticed the movement and looked up. Dark inhuman eyes met and held him. Yamcha knew suddenly that any wrong move now would mean his life. Bulma laid a gentle hand on Vegeta's forearm.

"Vegeta, I fear all this excitement may have had an adverse effect on me."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean I think I need to go to the Infirmary and have my mother call the doctor."

She winced and he gripped her gently and Yamcha got his first clear look at her. Bulma was very, very pregnant. He knew his mouth was hanging open but he didn't care. He was speechless. Vegeta lifted her gently, cradling her against his chest and carried her from the room. It took a moment to for Yamcha to follow and another full minute to remember where the Infirmary was. His brain simply wasn't functioning. Was the child his? He paused in one of the many gardens around her house. Was it possible he was a father? The idea terrified him.

He was no good with children, and as to Bulma being the mother, they were poison to each other and he knew it. There was no way any child of theirs could be raised properly. Would she want to marry him? Could he marry her? He didn't think he could do this. He wanted to leave, to run away and never come back. She couldn't lay this at his feet if she never saw him again. But what about Goku and Vegeta? They would hunt him down to the ends of the universe if need be. As different as those two were, they both had a highly developed sense of honor. His failure to do his part would not be tolerated.

Swallowing down a rather large lump of fear he made his slow way to the Infirmary. The sight he found was both relieving and enraging. Bulma lay on a bed, the doctor between her legs with a blanket draped over her for modesty's sake. Vegeta sat on a stool by her head, his hand gripping hers. Yamcha watched as a contraction ripple through her body, but it was Vegeta's face that contorted with pain. Confusion helped dispel his fear and he managed to relax his mind enough to take a good look at her ki. Vegeta had tied his own ki into her and was taking the pain of the birth upon himself. She squeezed his hand gently.

"You don't have to do that. Women have been having children this way for eons on Earth."

"This is my fault."

"Funny, I could have sworn I was there too."

A smile tugged at Vegeta's lips and Yamcha couldn't help the relief that flooded his system. The child was Vegeta's. Even as the thought calmed him, he could feel the beginnings of pure rage boil up. The child was Vegeta's. Vegeta had touched her, tasted her. Vegeta had taken her away from him. He wanted to lash out at something, but instead he continued to watch them. It took almost three hours for the child to arrive, and by the end of it all, Yamcha knew the truth. Though neither would ever say it, they were in love, their child had been conceived out of love. That was something Yamcha could never have hoped to offer, Bulma. The doctor wrapped the boy in a blanket and handed him to Bulma.

"Well, Vegeta, what should we name him?"

"Seeing as how you had to go through all this alone, I think you should have that honor."

"Good. Besides, I already thought of a name." She smiled down at her son, a smile unlike any Yamcha had ever seen grace her face. "Hello Trunks, welcome to the world."