Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Unlikely Bond ❯ The History of Trunks - Part 2 ( Chapter 38 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ or any of the characters! If I did, the anime would never end and GT would have never happened!

Story notes: This takes place ten years after the Buu saga. The only differences I can think of is that the whole thing with the world tournament in the last episode never happened and Goku didn't leave to train Uub. I wouldn't count on anything from the movies being part of this story's time line either, 'cause I haven't seen them all and they usually don't fit into the show's time line anyway. Especially that Broly crap. Vegeta cried through, like, that whole movie! That certainly didn't happen in this story....but, that's a different rant altogether. Hope you enjoy!

PLEASE heed warning in story description!! If you missed it, this story is not for children! It is also not for people who do not like stories that contain elements of violence, strong language, adult situations, references to sex and sexual activity between men and women, and men and other men. Oh, and fictional alien men having babies...'cause that's a'happen' here folks...

To my wonderful, wonderful beta-reader, Rowina: Thank you, thank you....thank you... ^-^

Extra notes: This chapter contains flashbacks. The flashback scenes are separated from 'real time' scenes by three astrisks at the beginning and it will be all in italics.



~~~~~***~~~~~

“Mom,” Bulla broke into the conversation, “tell us how happy Papa was when you told him.”

Bulma chuckled.

“Well, to be honest he already knew,” she replied. “But for a few moments, I got to pretend that I was informing him of something that was so important to us...”

~~~~~***~~~~~


Bulma peered into the gravity capsule. Even though the red warning lights flooded the room, indicating the increased gravity, Vegeta wasn’t training at the moment. He was standing over the control panel, punching in new specs. Bulma tapped on the glass, and he turned to look at her.

Their eyes met, and she watched him drop his head before turning back to the controls and disabling the gravity. The red lights were replaced with natural light, and the chamber door slid open. Bulma ascended the ramp inside and snapped the panel to shut it behind her.

Neither spoke for a moment. Bulma merely smiled, and Vegeta retained his even, expressionless stare. Finally she spoke.

“I need to talk to you.”

Vegeta gave a nod and leaned back casually on the control panel.

“That’s obvious if you interrupt my training,” he replied humorlessly.

“I’m sorry about that,” she replied. “But I really couldn’t wait.” She crossed the room to stand next to him. She bit her lip nervously, so confident in her own feeling of elation, but not so sure about how he would react. Her hand came to rest on his forearm. “I...I went to see my doctor today,” she began, not looking into his eyes. “And...and she told me...” With her last two words she lifted her eyes to his. “I’m pregnant.”

Vegeta gave one slow nod, but didn’t speak.

“Well,” she started, “what do you think?”

“What do you think?” he returned. “You are the one carrying the child.”

Bulma narrowed her eyes at his comment.

“Me? I’m excited!” she replied. “I’m going to have a baby! We - we are going to have a baby.” His eyes looked into hers, and she couldn’t quite make out the emotions she saw in them.

“You are pleased, then?” he asked. Bulma stepped close to him, laying her cheek against his damp chest and wrapping her arms around him.

“Of course I am. I told you that night that it didn’t matter if I got pregnant. I love you, Vegeta.”

Bulma sighed when she felt his hand come to the back of her head.

“I was wondering how you would take this.”

Bulma looked up to him.

“You knew?” she asked, incredulous. “When...how?”

“Your scent changed only days after. I have known.”

“Why didn’t you say anything!” she exclaimed, giving him a half-hearted slap on the chest.

“I didn’t know if you would want to hear it,” he replied simply. “I didn’t want to be the one to tell you that you were carrying the child of a murderer and a maniac.”

Bulma grinned.

“An ego maniac.” She leaned up and kissed his mouth. “I’m very happy to be carrying your child.” She placed her next kiss on his throat. “I’m honored that you picked me to share your blood and give birth to your heir.”

“You are saying things that you think I want to hear,” he said dryly. Bulma shrugged.

“That doesn’t mean that it’s not the truth.”

“Bulma,” Vegeta’s tone dropped a bit, becoming quiet. “It pleases me that this news excites you. But be warned that I cannot be the father that perhaps you think I should. Humans and Saiyans do not parent the same. It will be your responsibility to care for the child. My role will only be to protect and provide.”

Bulma pulled back and looked into his face.

“I wouldn’t dream of asking more of you than you are willing to give. I am just really happy to be having a baby. I don’t expect anything.”

Vegeta nodded.

“I need to return to my training,” he stated, letting go of her. Bulma nodded.

“Vegeta,” she began tentatively before she turned away, “will you sleep with me tonight?”

Vegeta considered the question a moment before responding.

“I can’t make any promises. I am behind in my training.”

Bulma nodded and turned to leave. She shouldn’t be upset. This was a happy day.

***

“I wouldn’t have guessed Vegeta, either.” Krillin admitted. “Not that I thought it could be someone else, ya know, I mean...I would have sooner assumed it was a miracle.”

“All babies are a miracle!” Mrs. Briefs told him, leaning across the table to pat Goku on the arm. Goku felt his chest contract from the unease of having attention brought not only to himself, but to his condition. It was actually feeling pretty good to be able to focus on someone else.

“So, uh, how did you find out, Mrs. B?” he stammered, trying to propel the story forward and away from himself.

“Bulma told us after dinner the day she found out! I can’t say we were surprised...”

***

Bulma thought it was odd that Yamucha wasn’t at dinner that night, but she was happy that it gave her a chance to tell her parents her news alone. She waited until the end of the meal to get their attention.

“Before you leave, Papa,” she started, as her father stood to go back to the lab, “I have something very important that I want to tell you and Mama together.”

Dr. Briefs sat back down, and Mrs. Briefs turned her smiling face to her daughter.

“What is it, pumpkin?” Dr. Briefs asked her. Bulma took a deep breath and wrung her hands.

“Well, I got some really good news today that I think will make you both very happy as well,” she began. “Really, really great news that I am very excited about.”

“How nice!” Mrs. Briefs chirped. Dr. Briefs made a guess.

“Your newest capsule prototype passed the phase I was testing?” Bulma giggled and shook her head.

“That would be nice, but no. Better than that. Much better.”

“My!” Dr. Briefs looked impressed.

“You see,” Bulma tried again, “I...I am pregnant. I’m going to have a baby.”

Dr. and Mrs. Briefs just stared at her as though she hadn’t spoke yet.

“I’m going to be a mother!” she exclaimed. “You are going to be grandparents!”

“Oh, my baby girl!” Mrs. Briefs shrieked with glee and rushed around the table to pull Bulma into her embrace. “Oh, you’re so grown up!”

“Mother...” Bulma grimaced under the crushing hug. Dr. Briefs patted her hand affectionately.

“That is happy news, dear.”

Mrs. Briefs kept her arms around Bulma.

“You and Vegeta are going to make such a cute little baby!”

Bulma felt all of the air leave her body with one gasp of shock.

“What!” she cried. Mrs. Briefs elaborated.

“Well, you both are so attractive! Any baby of yours couldn’t help but be cute as a button!”

“What makes you think that it’s Vegeta’s!?” she asked.

Dr. Briefs was fidgeting with the cigarette that he had stamped out into the ashtray.

“Isn’t it?” he asked.

“Well...well, yes,” Bulma replied. “But how did you know?”

Mrs. Briefs smiled widely.

“Parents know these things, dear.” Bulma looked back to her father.

“And...you’re okay with that?” she asked.

“The important thing is,” he answered, “that you are okay with it.”

Bulma smiled.

“I am. Even though he is an ass a lot of the time.”

“Yeah!” Mrs. Briefs chimed in. “But what an ass!”

Bulma took that minute to excuse herself from the room.


***

“Those two kids had it bad,” Mrs. Briefs continued. “It didn’t take a genius to figure out they had the hots for each other.”

“Obviously,” Vegeta grunted.

“Well, anyway,” Bulma butt in, “thirty nine weeks later, on the eighteenth of December, the world was blessed with little Trunks Briefs.” she hugged her son again.

“Awwwww!” Goten gushed, before chuckling at Trunks’ expense.

“Now I remember that day,” Yamucha spoke. “It was pretty scary. Your mom was pretty scary...and incredibly pregnant...”

“You try being thirty nine weeks pregnant, and see how you feel about it!” Bulma snapped. Yamucha shook his head.

“No, thanks. I remember how big and miserable you were. I will forgo that honor, thank you very much.”

Goku again felt the tight pull of uneasiness. Thirty nine weeks was such a long time...and Daikkon said a Saiyan could be pregnant as many as forty four weeks...how big would he be?

“Well,” Yamucha continued, addressing Trunks, “your mom had been having some pains, and I took her to the hospital ‘cause we thought she was having you. The doctors told us she wasn’t even having contractions, so they told us to go home and have her relax. Well, I followed that advice and got her out of there before she started spewing fire from her eyeballs.”

Bulma laughed as did many others in the room, except for Vegeta and Goku. Vegeta narrowed his eyes, trying to discreetly watch the younger Saiyan, who fidgeted with the stuffed bear he held in his hands.

“I think the doctors wanted to give it time to snow five feet so it would be hard for me to get back to them,” Bulma told her son. “Because that is exactly what happened.”


***

“Can you believe this?” Bulma shrieked, staring out of the living room window at the blizzard outside. “I think we’ve gotten a foot in just this last hour!”

“Calm down, Bulma,” Yamucha spoke soothingly, trying not to incite her wrath. “You’re worrying over nothing. The doctors told you that you weren’t in labor. It doesn’t matter how much snow we get.”

Bulma grit her teeth at the pain that passed through her. Yamucha knew that all of the color had drained from his face as he watched.

“I...I think they were wrong, Yamucha!” Bulma bit out as she sank back onto the sofa. “They were really wrong!”

“Maybe, uh, maybe you should lie down for a bit, huh?” he suggested, nervously wiping his damp palms down the front of his pants. “How about that?”

Bulma grimaced as pain pulsed across her abdomen, but nodded in agreement.

“You...you want me to get Vegeta...or anything?” he asked.

“What the fuck would he care!” she snapped, tightening her grip on his arm as he led her up the stairs. “The baby will be walking by the time he comes out of the GR!”

The pair stopped at the top of the landing as Bulma’s legs began to shake, and she squatted down in pain.

“Not here!” Yamucha exclaimed, pulling her back up. “Just a bit further, babe.”

“This hurts too much to not be labor!” Bulma wailed.

Yamucha pulled her into his arms and carried her the short distance to her bedroom to lay her gently on the bed.

“I’m calling the doctor,” he told her.

Bulma didn’t reply. She closed her eyes and tried to breathe through the pain as she had learned in class. Why was this happening so fast?

Yamucha fumbled with his cell phone, cursing the lack of service.

“I’ll be right back,” he assured her with a pat on the head.

“I’m not going anywhere,” she grunted in reply.

Yamucha moved quickly back downstairs to the living room and grabbed the phone. He dialed the number for emergency.

“Emergency services. How may we assist you?”

“I need an ambulance!” Yamucha spoke hurriedly. “My friend is having a baby!”

“She is in labor right now?” the operator asked.

“Uh, yeah. I think so, She’s in a lot of pain,” he replied, starting to pace the floor as far as the phone cord would allow.

“How far apart are her contractions?” the operator continued to question him.

“Um, I don’t know...” he answered. “She just seems to constantly be in pain.”

“Has her bag of waters ruptured?”

Yamucha grimaced.

“I don’t know! I just need an ambulance! I don’t know how to deliver a baby!”

“Sir,” the operator spoke calmly, “I need you to calm down. The weather has caused a lot of accidents, so if you stay on the line I can assist you in delivery procedures if needed until we have a team available.”

Yamucha panicked at the idea of having to deliver Bulma’s baby.

“That won’t work!” he shouted into the receiver. “The woman having this baby is Bulma Briefs! Can’t you send a helicopter or something?”

There was silence on the other end before the operator spoke again.

“Sir, I am dispatching an emergency vehicle to your location. But due to the blizzard, there are major delays. Help is en route.”

“Thank you!” Yamucha sighed.

“Sir,” the operator continued, “depending on where she is in the labor process, you still need to be prepared to assist in the birth. The weather could delay the emergency team for hours. I need you to time her contractions and tell me how far apart they are -”

“Shit!”

Yamucha slammed the phone down and rushed back up the stairs, taking them two at a time, to return to Bulma’s side.

Bulma was breathing heavily and clutching her belly, sweat dampening the hair around her face.

“Help is on the way, babe,” he whispered, taking her hand and smoothing the hair off her forehead.

“I’m scared,” she panted. Bulma lifted her eyes to Yamucha’s, and he could see the uncertainty in their teal depths. “I’m really scared.”

Yamuch felt his stomach turn from his own fears over the situation. He had his doubts, in the beginning, that he should even be her labor coach. Although giving birth at home was covered in class, he knew he wouldn't do well in that situation and he couldn’t guarantee her that help would get there in time.

“I’m going to get a doctor,” he told her.

“No!” she exclaimed, grabbing hold of him. “Please, don’t leave me!”

“It’s okay, babe, it’s okay,” he replied, gently pulling her hands from his shirt. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

Bulma didn’t appear confident, but nodded, leaning back against the pillows and holding her stomach.

Yamucha kissed her gently on the forehead and backed out of the room. Once he was in the hallway, he bolted down the stairs, dashed through the living room and kitchen and threw open the back door. He used his ki to propel himself across the snow covered lawn to the gravity capsule.

He peered through the glass. The warning lights cast a red glow over the room. He could sense the prince’s presence, but he couldn’t see him. Yamucha smacked the flat of his hand against the window.

“Vegeta!” he shouted, hoping to be heard, wherever the Saiyan was inside. “Vegeta! Bulma needs you! She’s in pain!.....I think the baby is coming!” He pounded the glass again. “I’m going to get a doctor!.....Vegeta!!”

Yamucha banged on the window loudly, one last time, peering into the empty gravity chamber.

“Fine.” he grumbled, turning from the domed capsule. He gave one last look toward the house. “Hold on, Bulma. I’ll be back soon,” he whispered, before taking off for the sky.


***

“Well, your mom was sure she was in labor,” Yamucha continued the story, barely skipping a beat from the memory. “And I wasn’t about to argue with her.”

There was laughter from his comment, most noticeably from Bulma.

“Good call. We know now that I was, indeed.”

“And I couldn't find Vegeta,” Yamucha added, thinking it probably best not to mention that he knew where Vegeta was, but the prince was most likely
ignoring him. “So I rushed to the hospital as fast as I could to get a doctor.” He turned to Trunks, addressing him, as it was his story. “It was really hard to fly through the blizzard. It was colder than I could ever remember, and I couldn’t see worth a darn. My ki was melting the snow around me, and I was getting soaked, water in my eyes and whatnot.” Yamucha shifted Bulla on his lap as she turned to watch him speak.

“Did you find a doctor?” she asked.

“Well, I got to the hospital and must have looked like a lunatic! My hair was wet and frozen on the ends, my clothes soaking...and here I was screaming for a doctor. They thought I needed help. When I got through to them that I needed help for a woman delivering a baby, and it being Bulma Briefs, at that, I had a couple of volunteers.” He smirked. “Well, I didn’t know whether or not to get a male or female doctor...I just knew if I brought back a man, Vegeta would kill me on the spot for letting some ‘pathetic, weakling human’ look at his woman.” More laughter filled the room, and Vegeta scowled. “And I knew that if I brought a woman, Vegeta would kill me on the spot for bringing some ‘silly female’ to deliver his child.”

“So what did you do?” Trunks asked him. Goten leaned his arm on Trunks’ thigh, and he grinned at the story teller.

“So you got Piccolo, right?”

The Namekian warrior, who until now had been standing silently in the background, narrowed his eyes at the young Saiyan. Goten burst out in a fit of laughter.

“No,” Yamucha continued, “I got one of each. It took some time for them to gather supplies, and I had to fly slower carrying a doctor under each arm. I had to spend more time using my ki to form a solid barrier against the weather so I wouldn’t deliver two people with hypothermia and frostbite. All in all, it took a little over an hour.”

“But you made it in time,” Bulla commented. “Right, Uncle?”

Bulma smiled, her eyes resting on Vegeta as she spoke.

“Oh, I would say that his timing was perfect...”


***

Bulma began to pant or hyperventilate, she wasn’t sure which, as Yamucha disappeared from the room. After all the birthing classes with him, all of the preparations with her mother, she would have never guessed that she would be having her baby alone. And this labor was nothing like she had anticipated. While she herself had been through medical school, she knew that all pregnancies and deliveries were different. But this...this was not right...not normal…

When the dull ache began two days ago and turned into a persistent pain yesterday morning, she was sure that labor had begun. So when the doctor told her that she was not having contractions and to go home and rest, she tried to assure herself that she was right.

She should have taken her father’s advice and had a nurse on duty these last few weeks, but Bulma had been sure that she wouldn’t need one. Her pregnancy had been a breeze thus far, except for the occasional backache, and she was certain the entire birth would go off without a hitch. Her body would wait for her parents to return from their short holiday in the tropics, she would go into labor naturally and within hours be holding her little bundle of joy. She was Bulma Briefs, after all.

But her baby was half Saiyan...

Pain seized her, and she gasped aloud, trying hard not to push. Yamucha said that he would be back soon...the baby had to wait.

Bulma grunted, trying to find a comfortable position in which to sit. With the constant thrum of pain through her belly, nothing was comfortable. She huffed heavily in irritation.

“It is coming?”

Bulma looked up to her doorway where Vegeta stood. His expression was unreadable. Bulma hadn’t seen him in days as he was locked in the gravity capsule, but the uniform he wore looked as though he hadn’t even attempted to train.

“I...I think so,” she grunted, shifting again in her discomfort. “Yamucha went to get a doctor.”

Vegeta looked past her to the blizzard outside the window.

“Vegeta,” Bulma spoke quietly. “Do you know anything about Saiyan births?”

Vegeta turned his dark eyes back to her but did not reply. Bulma grimaced.

“Yamucha will be back soon,” she snapped. “You don’t have to stay.”

The smirk on his face was a welcome change from the unreadable expression.

“He won’t make it in time,” the prince spoke quietly, coming to the bedside.

“Yes, he will!” she insisted as a rather sharp pain shot through her. She closed her eyes and tried not to hold her breath until it passed. “I can’t do this alone!”

Vegeta stared at her a moment, and she suddenly regretted her choice of words.

“I mean, you didn’t go to the classes....” she explained. “You don’t know what to do...”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he responded. “There could be a roomful of people, and the only person who will be pushing that brat into the world will be you. You can do it alone.” His tone almost bordered on irritation. “Your body knows what it is supposed to do.”

Bulma opened her mouth to challenge him, but nothing emerged but an agonized scream. She leaned forward, a sob of self pity escaping her.

“How can this be happening!” she cried, her breath beginning to come in gasps as she tried not to cry.

“You really enjoy working yourself up over nothing,” Vegeta remarked, slipping his arm under hers and pulling her from the bed. Bulma squealed in protest as he placed her on her feet.

“You sadistic son of a bitch!” she managed to shout, her legs unable to support her as she clung to his arm. “Just leave me alone!”

“I thought you didn’t want to be alone?” he replied, holding her against him as he used his other hand to pull the comforter and sheets from the bed. “Look, this child is coming out whether you like it or not. Quit fighting it.”

Bulma sighed, the beginnings of exhaustion creeping up on her. She didn’t fight him as he undressed her from the waist down.

“Vegeta...” she moaned. “I can’t do this.”

Vegeta squatted down on the floor, pulling her down against him, supporting her thighs against his.

His tone was emotionless as he replied.

“You have to...I can feel his head.”

Bulma wanted to cry. This was not the perfect scenario she had in mind of meeting her baby for the first time: squatting on the floor with Vegeta over a mass of bed covering.

“I need to lie down,” she gasped, her body curling forward as the contraction hit.

“Lean against me,” Vegeta instructed. “Gravity will help you. Let your body do the work...push when you feel you have to.”

Bulma pushed with the contraction, trying to remember her classes and push through her abdomen instead of giving in to her desire to just scrunch up her face. The pain was intense as she counted silently to herself, sighing heavily when she could push no more.

“Damnit, it hurts,” she cried, pulling Vegeta’s hand into hers. “Bad.”

“Physical pain fades,” he replied. “It is temporary. Pain in nothing.”

“That is SO easy for you to say!” she snapped as she felt another contraction strike.

“Yes,” he murmured, “it is easy for me...”

Bulma ignored him as she concentrated on pushing. She could feel the progress the baby was making, but it was hard to believe the pain would ever end.

Vegeta remained silent as Bulma struggled through the process. He let her squeeze his hand through her pain, and his other he had beneath her. He could feel the baby’s head was almost completely out.

“Vegeta,” she panted, pulling against his arm for attention, “I need to lie down...”

Vegeta pulled his hand from hers and yanked a pillow from the bed to place under her. Gently, he moved to let her settle on the floor, keeping his hand beneath the infant’s head.

Bulma gave a shocked gasp of relief as her baby's head emerged. She was half way there...this was almost over...

She internally gave herself some words of encouragement as she waited for the next contraction.

“I...I need you to...to hold him with both hands...” she gasped. Vegeta nodded, cupping the tiny head in his hands. He didn’t have time to focus on how surreal this moment was for him. It was only moments later and Vegeta could only gape in shock as he held his newborn son in his hands. Bulma gave a sighing laugh of delight at the sight of her baby before collapsing back against the comforter and pillow behind her. She lay there a moment catching her breath.

Vegeta leaned forward and placed the baby gently on her chest, pulling a sheet over them both and kneeling by her side. Bulma pulled her arms around the slick, wriggling infant and felt tears slip down her cheeks. He was beautiful, from the top of his bald head to the tip of his lavender tail. Bulma giggled as the tiny tail lashed around, before curling around her wrist.

In a rare moment of unguarded emotion, Vegeta whispered:

“Thank you...”

Bulma looked up at him and smiled, getting to catch a glimpse of the awe in his eyes before he stood and turned. There were noises coming from the first floor, and she could hear Yamucha call her name as he ascended the stairs.

“Vegeta,” Bulma spoke quickly, and he looked down at her. “Thank you...”


***

“He was barely gone five minutes when the pain became so unbearable I thought I was going to die!” Bulma laughed, the feelings now only distant memory. “You were determined to come out, kiddo,” she teased the teen.

“So,” Goku spoke, hoping he didn’t sound as panicked as he felt, “you did it alone?”

“Nope,” Bulma smiled. “Vegeta showed up and helped me through it.”

“What?!” Chi Chi gaped before she could stop herself. Bulma laughed.

“Yeah, while he wasn’t the most traditional labor coach, Trunks came out just fine, right into his daddy’s hands.”

“Gross...” Goten commented, wrinkling his nose. Trunks turned to his father.

“What did you think, Papa?” he asked.

Vegeta shrugged, irritated by the eyes that were now on him. He hated being on the spot, particularly at a moment like this when he wanted to tell his son how he treasured the moment, but he didn’t want to give these fools the pleasure of witnessing his sentiment. Trunks’ blue eyes never left him. Vegeta cleared his throat.

“I witnessed the birth of a new generation of Saiyan royalty...my heir...my son...” He nodded at Trunks. “It was an honor, boy.”

“And an honor to be born into the hands of the king, young prince.” Daikkon mentioned with awe. Vegeta’s low growl silenced any further remarks. Trunks smiled.

“Wow...thanks, Dad...thanks, Mom...”

Bulma hugged him again, tightly.

“You are more than welcome, baby,” she replied.

“Hey!” Pan jumped up from her spot on Gohan’s lap. “Since Mr. Vegeta is a king or whatever, that means that my grandpa’s baby will be a prince or princess!”

The room became deathly quiet. Goku’s eyes rolled skyward and he said a short prayer that everyone was not looking at him. They weren’t. He shared the spotlight with the mortified prince of Saiyans.

Gohan pulled Pan back into his arms, giving her a stern look while the girl merely grimaced in confusion.

“Who wants cake?” Bulma announced.


Vegeta stood on the patio outside of the kitchen, staring blankly at the gravity capsule. He wasn’t thinking about anything in particular, trying his best to keep his mind blank, yet still listening to the voices in the front room as Bulma and Trunks said goodbye to their guests. Kakkarot, his wife and their youngest son, as well as Yamucha were the only ones who remained now.

Goku looked over his shoulder at where the prince stood on the other side of the patio door. Something inside of him told him to go over there...speak to him...but he didn’t have any idea of why or what he wanted to say.

Vegeta sighed as he felt Kakkarot’s energy drawing nearer to him. There was the gentle hiss of the door sliding in its frame, and Vegeta was no longer alone.

“Hey,” Goku greeted, coming to stand at the older Saiyan’s side. Vegeta gave him a grunt and a sideways glance in reply. Goku pushed his hands down into the pockets of his coat, and the two stood in silence.

Vegeta closed his eyes, trying to ignore the way the crisp winter air carried the warm, earthy scent of his companion or the slight thump of Kakkarot’s tail against his leg.

Vegeta turned to the younger man.

“What do you want?”

His tone was neither harsh nor kind.

Goku opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He closed it as he considered.

“I...I don’t know,” he finally admitted, meeting Vegeta’s gaze. Vegeta frowned and turned away.

Goku continued to watch as they returned to standing in silence. Goku felt the urge to step closer to his companion, but knew it was better to stay put. But Vegeta’s scent was warm and smelled of fire, heat, energy...of power...and it comforted Goku and made him feel...safe.

The thought brought a smile to his lips. There wasn’t always a time when Goku felt he could count on Vegeta, but he was glad those days were few and many years behind them. As much as Vegeta hated to admit it, he was no longer the evil, power-hungry man he once was.

Okay, so he was no longer evil...

Goku studied the prince’s profile as he stared out at the capsule on the lawn. He wasn’t sure how much older Vegeta was than he; there were quite possibly ten years between them. But Goku knew that his own face still held too much youthfulness. Vegeta, however, had the defined, angular features of a proper adult. The wisdom of his lifetime echoed in his eyes.

He was rather handsome, Goku decided, as he wondered vaguely what their child would look like...

Vegeta flinched away from the feeling of soft fur across his knuckles and quickly crossed his arms over his chest. His movements alerted Goku to the unconscious actions of his tail, and he gathered it in his hands, holding it close to his body.

“I...I’m sorry...” he stammered.

Vegeta scowled.

“You want my attention, Kakkarot. You have it. What?”

Goku furrowed his brow as he stared back into Vegeta’s eyes. Finally he sighed, dropping his gaze to the ground.

“I don’t know, Vegeta...I...”

“We will meet tomorrow,” Vegeta responded, abruptly. His voice softened as he continued. “You need to learn how to control that...keep it to yourself.”

Goku looked back up and grinned. Vegeta’s face was still serious.

“And we can spar?”

“Yes, Kakkarot. We can spar,” the prince replied. “Go home and sleep.”

Goku’s hand came to the back of his head, and he chuckled.

“Right...good night.”

Vegeta gave a curt nod and turned to look back out into the night as Goku returned into the house.

Bulma took note of Goku’s happy countenance, as did Chi Chi.

“Are you ready to go?” she asked her husband.

“Yep. Good night, Bulma, Yamucha,”

“Take care, man,” Yamucha replied, giving him an affectionate clap on the back. “See you soon.”

“Yeah...where’s Goten?”

“He and Trunks have just gone off to bed.” Bulma told him. Chi Chi frowned.

“He probably wanted to make himself scarce before I changed my mind about a sleep over!” she spoke. “Seriously! Teenagers these days!”

Both Yamucha and Bulma tried to suppress their laughter. Chi Chi had been mortified by Goten’s gift to his friend.

“Well, I’ll make sure he is home before noon,” Bulma assured her. “Thank you again for coming.”

“Thank you for having us,” Chi Chi replied.

Bulma hugged Goku tightly as he passed.

“Sleep well.”

“You too, Bulma.”

Chi Chi took Goku’s hand in hers as they left the house and walked to their car.

“You sure seem to be in a good mood,” she commented.

“I am,” he replied. “Nothing makes me happier than spending the evening with friends.” He placed his arm around her and gave her a squeeze. “And the night alone with my wife.”

Chi Chi smiled, Goku’s last words erasing the twinge of jealousy she felt over having to now share him with the brutish prince of egos.

“Oh, Goku...”

A/N: So, what did ya think? Don't kill me too much for bad description of the labor process. Again, I have no children nor the desire to after watching 'A Baby Story' on TLC. Ouch. And I cringe to think about the stuff my beta had me change. I am clueless!!! Anyway, I hope ya'll like it. To be honest, I can't wait for Goku to be more pregnant. I think that will fun to write. But, that is a few chapters off. Thank you all for reading! I'm going to write more now!! ^_^ B°