Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Unlikely Bond ❯ Transitions ( Chapter 43 )

[ 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... ^-^


Chi Chi was surprised to see Goku home so early. It was not even five in the evening when he returned, slipped out of his coat and went to rest on the sofa. He seemed tired and sullen, and she got the impression that maybe she shouldn’t ask why.

Goku lay on the sofa, deep in thought. How could Vegeta refuse to spar with him just because he was...was carrying a child? Okay, the thought was a little weird to him too, but that fact didn’t change his ability to fight. It only altered the duration of the battle. Goku didn’t think he could go another five months without sparring. Certainly someone would train with him?

Even Chi Chi’s delicious cooking couldn’t ease his mind tonight. Since he entered the second trimester (if you could call it that) his appetite had only increased, and today was the last day he needed to be reminded that he wanted more food.

After supper, Goten went upstairs to finish his homework. In the living rooom in front of a crackling fire, Chi Chi was finishing up the last of the alterations to Goku’s pants. Goku just sat on the sofa, leaning against the arm, an open book across his lap. Absently, he thumbed through the pages without reading.

Chi Chi glanced at him from the corner of her eye. He looked exhausted.

“I think I’ll go up and have a shower,” he announced wearily.

“Well, I’ll have some nice warm pajamas laid out for you,” Chi Chi said, giving him an affectionate pat on the hip as he passed.

Goku made a small sound of acknowledgement as he moved to take the staircase to their room.

After stripping from his clothing, he stepped into the shower stall and turned on the water to a tolerable heat. For a moment he did nothing but stand beneath the spray, letting the warm water pour over him, hoping it could wash away his frustration.

How could Vegeta say that to him? How could he put an end to the sparring matches that they had participated in for years simply because...

Goku looked down at himself and the way his stomach had swelled to accommodate the life within. Objectively, he supposed that he did look unusual, his normally masculine physique exhibiting such a uniquely female attribute...

But he was still Saiyan! He was still more than capable of holding out against Vegeta - even without the benefit of his ki...unless...

Unless Vegeta was holding back...

Goku grimaced and pushed the thought to the back of his mind, grabbing the soap and hurriedly washing. He was not about to let something Vegeta said make him feel inadequate.

But...

What about what Goten said?

Goku’s hand come to rest on his belly as he recalled Goten’s distaste for the store that focused on catering to a man’s role in parenthood. Was the idea so horribly unnatural to everyone? It was true: his condition was even unique among other Saiyans...

Quickly, he finished washing and turned off the water. Stepping out of the shower, he wrapped a towel low around his hips and stopped dead in his tracks upon catching his reflection in the mirror that was hanging on the door. He really did look pregnant, and for a moment, he almost laughed. But the feeling was fleeting as he recalled why he was pregnant....and how...

How dare Vegeta...

“Honey, your pajamas are on the bed,” Chi Chi called, pulling him from his thoughts. Goku was suddenly very self-conscious.

“Uh...okay!” he called back, waiting for her ki to leave the bedroom.

When it appeared she had gone downstairs, he moved into the bedroom to quickly dress and get into bed. Just as he was pulling the covers over himself, she returned.

She didn’t speak as she readied herself for bed. Goku watched her, remaining silent himself.

Dressed in a simple, blue satin nightgown, she seated herself beside him on the bed. She glanced to her husband who was still watching her.

“You seem like you’ve had a bad day,” she commented, causing him to meet her eyes. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Goku considered it, but ultimately shook his head in the negative. The last thing he wanted to tell anyone was that he felt sorry for himself because Vegeta wouldn’t fight with a pregnant looking man.

“It was Vegeta, wasn’t it?” she asked with a slight frown, pulling the covers back and slipping her feet under them.

“What makes you say that?” Goku asked, slightly curious.

Chi Chi raised an eyebrow as she turned to him.

“First, you say you are going to be late because you are going to train with the arrogant ape, and then you come home early! And you didn’t look any worse for wear. So I can only assume you two fought before you had a chance to...fight.”

Goku shrugged and shifted to roll onto his side, facing away from her.

“Well...” he began weakly. “that is a very interesting theory.”

Chi Chi gave a small smile as she move to cuddle up behind him, laying a gentle kiss on his arm.

“But is it an accurate one?” she asked. Goku was quiet a moment. She heard him sigh softly, and his body relaxed before he spoke.

“Vegeta doesn’t think that my condition is...very...conducive to fighting.” He tried to be diplomatic. “Don't try and say you disagree.”

For a moment she was going to do just that, until she was struck with the realization that she agreed with the prince. But she doubted they had the same basis for that belief.

“And what factors does he believe support his conclusion?” she asked, slipping an arm around him, hugging him tightly.

Goku remained silent.

Chi Chi leaned her chin on his arm and looked down at him.

“Well? Why does he suddenly want to stop fighting? It can’t be because he’s had a change of heart.”

“No...he...he...” Goku sighed. “He has his reasons, I guess...”

Chi Chi rolled her eyes. Leave it to Vegeta to not give one good reason for his actions.

“Well, I certainly couldn’t imagine what they could be...” she mused. “That man is just exasperating.”

Goku didn’t feel the need to defend Vegeta from that statement. At the moment, he quite agreed with it.

Chi Chi leaned her head against Goku’s shoulder, holding him close. Idly, she ran her hand down his arm.

“Is that all that is bothering you?” she asked.

“I...I guess...” he replied. It was mostly true. Vegeta’s statement had only alerted him to how he should feel uncomfortable in his own skin...

“...And physically?” she asked. “Are you feeling alright?”

“Of course.” he answered, a little too quickly.

“Well,” she announced, pulling away from him and sitting up. “I think you deserve a nice massage.” She pushed up the back of his night shirt and pressed the heels of her palms on either side of his spine. Goku began to protest.

“That’s not nessess...oh...that’s...that’s nice...”

Chi Chi smiled, happy to be able to make him comfortable in any way. She had a feeling he wasn’t being totally up front with her, but she had a pretty good guess as to what was really troubling him. During her pregnancy with Gohan, all of the euphoric feeling of impending motherhood couldn’t stop her from feeling incredibly unattractive with each expanding inch of her waistline. But Goku had never made a comment that was contrary to his proclamations of her beauty.

Her eyes darkened for a fraction of an instant. Vegeta better not have said anything mean!

Goku made a small moan of appreciation as Chi Chi worked the tense muscles in his back. His tail thumped against the bed, but was not the only physical indicator of his feelings.

Chi Chi’s hands worked slowly, kneading the flesh beneath them. Goku’s skin was warming up and his breathing becoming deep and even. She moved her hands higher, her fingers pressing into his shoulder blades. The action pushed his shirt up further and he leaned back, stopping her.

“Thanks,” he spoke softly and with the intention of letting her know she didn’t have to continue. But something in his eyes looked...sad...

“Have I told you today,” she began, leaning over him, “how much you mean to me?” Goku smiled. “How much I love you?”

“I know,” he replied. She returned the smile before leaning closer and pressing a kiss against his lips.

“How long since I’ve shown you?” she asked in a low tone. Goku shifted under her.

“Uh...” he began, but his mind blanked. His tail bristled and pulled itself close to his thigh. Chi Chi continued to kiss him, moving her lips from his, down to his chin and along his jaw. “I...I don’t think...that I can...” he stammered.

Chi Chi smiled as she nuzzled against his throat, her fingers skimming over his ribs and coming to rest on his hip.

“I can,” she whispered.

Goku closed his eyes and let out a hissing breath as his wife’s hand slipped beneath the waistband of his pajama pants and delicately brushed along the length of his growing erection. He shuddered.

“Chi-” He spoke quickly, opening his eyes and looking up at her. “This...this doesn’t bother you?” He didn’t need to clarify ‘this’ for her to understand. She shook her head.

“Not being able to touch you would bother me,” she spoke softly, not halting her intimate caress and continued to lay hot kisses on his throat. Goku closed his eyes again and gave a groan of frustration. He felt incredibly undesirable, but...what she was doing felt so good...

“Are...are you sure...” he murmured, one hand nervously tugging on the hem of his nightshirt.

“I love every inch of you, Son Goku,” she told him, laying a soft kiss on his abdomen and shifting his pajama pants down his hips. “Every....inch...”


It was nearly dawn, and Capsule Corp. was dark and quiet across the entire compound. The bright white pinpricks of stars were beginning to fade as the deep blue sky began to turn a murky grey in the early hours.

Vegeta sat alone in the den, staring up through the skylite above him. He hadn’t slept that night, spending it instead second guessing his actions. He could understand Kakkarot’s anger and frustration with him, but Vegeta didn’t know what else to do. It was not within him to hold back in battle; even though he had suppressed his ki, he had always given one hundred percent to the fight. That just wasn’t possible anymore.

No one had enough information on the third class to assure him that there was absolutely no danger to the expectant Saiyan or the baby in an all out battle with a healthy, full blooded elite in his prime. And as much as Vegeta would never admit to anyone, he would never place any of his children in danger. Not even to save his own life, and certainly not to appease the clown’s desire to spar.

Yes, he supposed some might say he had grown soft in his time on Earth. But since he had never had children before, he would dare anyone to prove he wouldn’t have behaved differently. Even though he knew, in the back of his mind, that he had indeed become a different man.

Vegeta’s breath halted and his body tensed, alert, as he felt a sharp spike and fall in his daughter’s energy. He leaned forward in his seat, as he waited for her energy pattern to return to normal. When in a few moments it did not, he left the den and headed up to her room.

He knocked softy on her door and barely waited the span of a heartbeat before he knocked again, louder.

“Yeah?” came a soft, drowsy voice on the other side.

Vegeta pushed the door opened. Bulla was sitting up in her bed, having just turned on her bedside lamp. Her light teal hair was tousled from sleep, and her face was twisted into a grimacing pout. Vegeta raised an eyebrow.

“I thought you...were awake...” he began, watching her rub her eyes.

She was quiet a moment before she took a deep breath and rubbed her eyes once more.

“No,” she shook her head as she answered, sleep still fogging her mind. “No...”

Vegeta hesitated a moment before asking.

“You are well then?”

Bulla squinted at him as her mind worked out the question. She nodded.

Vegeta knew that, moments ago, she had not been. A nightmare or other such sleep terrors had obviously disturbed her rest. That he could sympathize with. He could remember in vivid detail the years he was plagued with horrors in his sleep. Such horrible visions that he would often go days without closing his eyes.

And he could remember when they had begun to fade...when he had discovered that someone could actually care for him, did care for him...more deeply than he had ever thought possible.

He couldn’t imagine what, in Bulla’s sheltered life, would be causing her troubles in her sleep. But he would be damned if he couldn’t put a stop to it.

“You were...dreaming of bad things?” he asked.

Bulla chewed on her lip as she considered whether or not she wanted to admit to that statement. Her eyes searched her father’s for the trick to that question.

“It was just a dream,” she answered coolly.

Vegeta nodded.

“A dream of what?”

Bulla began to chew her lip again. Vegeta sat down on the edge of her bed.

“You don’t want to tell me?” he asked. Bulla shrugged.

“I’m not scared, Papa,” she assured him. “It was nothing...”

Vegeta shrugged and stood. Bulla’s inner child debated with her inner pre-teen as she watched him go. Part of her wanted to show him she was strong, and the other half wanted him to be strong for her.

“Papa,” she spoke abruptly, stopping him in his tracks. He looked back at her over his shoulder. “Were you worried about me?”

“You should have no reason to dream of bad things,” he told her simply. “I don’t favor the idea. What...what was it about?”

“It was about school,” she began shortly. “I was at school by myself, and I couldn’t get out.” She patted the side of the bed where she wanted him to sit. With slight reluctance, he went and settled at her side.

“Don’t you enjoy school?” he asked.

“Sure. I get to talk to all of my friends and play sports in fitness class...but...” she grimaced, “most of the kids are kinda dumb and weak.”

Vegeta smirked.

“You don’t say?” he remarked. She gave him a look of unfortunate agreement and nodded.

“Yeah...”

“And...was that all?” he continued. Bulla stared at him a moment before leaning close to wrap her arms around him and bury her face against his chest. Vegeta tensed.

“...And then...” came her muffled voice, “and then they came...and you were hurt! And I couldn’t help you!”

Vegeta couldn’t tell if the emotion in her voice was fear or embarrassment, but his eye twitched at the thought of it being either. Instinct told him to take her by the shoulders and tell her sternly that she was Saiyan and she should not fear anything, let alone a random dream. But something else inside him, some other instinct, told him different. So instead, he sighed, wrapped his arms around the child and held her to him.

Her jolt of shock shamed him, but she didn’t pull away. She merely turned her face to rest her cheek against his chest.

“I know it was only a dream...” she began lamely.

Vegeta was quiet a moment after she said this. If he agreed with her, told her she should not feel fear, he would be a hypocrite. And while he may contradict such things to the rest of the universe, he would not use such tactics on his only daughter.

“Bad dreams are our mind’s way of showing us what we are afraid of,” he replied, in a low voice. “But you can use them as a tool to make you stronger. To steel yourself against things which might frighten you and prepare yourself in the event they should come to pass.”

Bulla considered this before asking, with only the slightest bit of unease in her tone.

“Do you ever have nightmares, Papa?”

Vegeta’s jaw clenched, but he forced out his answer.

“Sometimes...but I try not to let them bother me.”

Bulla pulled back and looked up into his face with wide eyes.

“What could you be afraid of!?” she asked in amazement.

The prince smirked.

“A daughter that asks too many questions,” he answered, wryly.

Bulla rolled her eyes before snuggling back into his side.

In the lull in the conversation, Vegeta took a moment to look down at the child. She was growing so big, so fast...where had the time gone?

“Was I born with a tail?” she asked abruptly. Vegeta blinked as the question sunk into his brain.

“...No...” he replied. Bulla let out a disappointed sigh. “You were born with a small patch of blue fur where your tail should have been.” At this, she stuck out her tongue and made a wretching sound. “But it fell out before you were a month old.”

“But you were born with yours, right?” she asked.

“Yes.”

Bulla was quiet, before continuing.

“So...there is no way for me to get a tail?”

“Why would you want one?” he asked, trying not to let bitterness seep into his tone. He could tell by the way Trunks avoided the topic that he was trying to avoid having to give Vegeta a definite answer on whether or not he wanted to regrow his tail. The prince feared that his son may not feel comfortable with the world knowing he was so different. “Don’t you worry about what people at school would say?”

Bulla pulled away from him again, but instead of a wide-eyed look of wonder, she wore a grimacing look of disbelief.

“Why would I worry about that?” she asked. “All the kids at school copy everything I do! It would be the one thing that they couldn’t! Besides...I’m Saiyan, Papa...and Saiyans have tails...”

Vegeta felt a tiny surge of pride. It was followed quickly by a surge of disappointment.

“You don’t need a tail to be Saiyan,” he stated. “Just because you were not born with one doesn’t mean that you are not a true Saiyan. You are a Saiyan princess.”

Bulla yawned, and replied grumpily.

“...I still want one...”

He nodded in understanding, and yawned himself. Bulla’s sleepy voice continued.

“...I want to be a Saiyan like you...”

Vegeta leaned his cheek against the top of her head. He was touched by her statement.

“You can be whatever you want to be,” he told her. But he wasn’t so sure he would want her to be anything like him. She was quiet for a long moment, and Vegeta wasn’t sure if she were still awake.

“...Can I learn to fight?” she asked. “...Will you train me like you train Trunks?”

Vegeta closed his eyes. This was the one question he would never have imagined her asking him. As she grew, she seemed to be more interested in dolls, make-up and clothes than training and fighting.

“You have to be very serious and dedicated if you want me to teach you. I cannot entertain whims.”

He felt her answer as she nodded her head.

Vegeta brought his hand up to her hair and gently smoothed it down from its disheveled state. Her deep, even breathing and her level energy pattern indicated that she was asleep. He turned off the bedside lamp and settled back against the bed. Bulla stirred, slightly, only to snuggle closer to her father.

At one point in time, Vegeta had considered himself the most cold-hearted being in the universe. He never thought there would be one fraction of a second in time that he would ever feel the strange warmth and overwhelming love he could feel for his child.

And he wondered how cold-hearted must his own father have been...


Bulma tapped her pen idly as she stared down at the papers on her desk. It was several pages of Saiyan social and family customs that Daikkon had written up the day before. She was no longer reading, but having a bit of a daydream sparked by the document, of early that morning.

She had, like every morning after her sunrise rituals, gone to rouse her youngest child and get her ready for school. The sight she found had brought a smile to her lips. Bulla was nestled quite comfortably in her father’s protective embrace. Bulma had barely a second to admire their sweet, dreaming faces before one became a scowl.

“Good morning, sunshine,” she quipped dryly as Vegeta extracted himself carefully from the bed. “I was unaware that last night was a pajama party.”

“Hmph.” was all he offered before he moved past her, stopping briefly to plant a kiss on her throat before he disappeared into the hall.

“Daikkon,” Bulma spoke suddenly, pulling not only the young Saiyan from his work, but her son as well. After his morning class and a bit of sparring with his father, Trunks had joined his mother and Daikkon in the lab where the three worked independently and quietly until this point.

“Yes, my lady?” Daikkon answered, turning his chair to face her.

Bulma held up the papers and gave them a small shake.

“It says here that Saiyan children sleep with their parents until they reach adolescence?”

Daikkon gave a nod.

“Yes, ma’am. It is one of our cultural customs that I see more resembles pack animal behavior here on Earth, as Saiyans are social creatures and live in packs, or more accurately, clans. Being as night is a prime opportunity for attacks, children were kept close to their parents for their protection. As Saiyans became more ‘civilized’, if you will, it was a custom kept, but not solely for the protection of the children, but also for the closeness of the family unit.”

“So I take it there were a lot of Saiyans who were only children,” Bulma laughed.

“I would say, on average, a Saiyan family would have three to four children, if not more.” From his answer and his unaffected expression, she could tell the joke was lost on him.

Trunks blushed and shook his head, turning away as she continued.

“How did they find the opportunity to...you know...” Daikkon watched her with intent, wide eyes as she spoke. “Make...make more...babies.”

The young man’s eyes grew wider, it seemed, as realization struck him. It was with a smile that he began to answer.

“You see-”

But Bulma, and even Trunks who had turned to listen, was denied hearing the answer as the door to the lab opened. For a moment the trio openly stared at the new arrival, out of both shock and disbelief.

“Vegeta,” Bulma spoke, rising from her chair. “What brings you to the lab?”

Vegeta gave a nonchalant shrug as he looked around the large laboratory where Bulma and Trunks did the bulk of their experiments and spent most of their time.

Bulma continued to watch him, but Daikkon had quietly turned back to his computer and Trunks to the device open in front of him.

“Anything I can help you with?” Bulma tried again, as her husband strolled leisurely into the room, giving half-interested glances over the work tables.

“No,” he replied casually. “I don’t need help.”

She watched him as he continued to move around the room, looking at this or that, but not seeming to find one thing that held his gaze for more than a few seconds. Finally, he slid into a work station in the corner of the lab and logged in to the computer.

Bulma’s eyebrows drew together as she watched him, curious as to what he could be up to. He was well within his right to work in the lab whenever he chose, but he usually refrained from doing it.

There had been a time, when Trunks was still a child and before Bulla’s conception was even a consideration, Bulma had offered Vegeta a position at Capsule Corp. She had worried that peace time and the lack of challenging battles was boring for the prince and wanted to give him something to occupy his time. She had to admit, too, that she was worried that he would grow bored with the gravity chamber or her. He had accepted her offer and was quite an asset with his mechanical know-how.

The pair discovered shortly thereafter that working together was quite possibly not the best thing for their relationship or her company. They couldn’t seem to exist in the same working environment without engaging in a vicious fight or...

Bulma licked her lips and stood, walking toward the terminal where her husband sat. Vegeta had declared, all those years ago, that sharing his knowledge was not worth the headache of working with her. He had never come into the lab now unless he was harassing her to finish one or another of his projects. But thankfully, he had never grown bored of her...

“Hey,” she spoke lowly, nudging him as she stopped by his chair. “What are you working on?”

“I’m not working on anything,” he stated matter-of-factly. “I am merely looking.”

Bulma smirked.

“What are you looking for?” she asked.

“Something to work on,” he shrugged.

Bulma gave him an incredulous look.

“Do you want me to leave?” he asked, with mock offense in his tone.

“No...” she replied. “But I would like you to be honest with me.”

“If you didn’t insist on asking questions that I don’t want to answer,” he replied as though it were all very simple, “I would not have to lie.”

Bulma rolled her eyes.

“Remind me, again, why I keep you around?” she queried wearily. Vegeta didn’t look up from the console as he answered.

“Not in front of the boy. Maybe later.”

Trunks and Daikkon turned at Bulma’s sudden shriek of laughter. She clapped a hand over her mouth and waved to them, signaling she was sorry for interrupting their work and for them to continue.

She leaned closer to Vegeta.

“It was that kind of behavior that made you leave the lab to begin with,” she spoke with laughter still in her voice.

Vegeta seemed unaffected by the remark.

“I couldn’t get much work done with you riding me...either way...”

Bulma suppressed another snort of laughter. This behavior seemed so much more amusing than it was fifteen years ago...

“Well, if you do need anything, let me know.”

He didn’t reply, so she returned to her own work station.

Vegeta logged into his personal database and began searching through the schematics. It didn’t take long to find the one he was looking for. He had left it incomplete years ago. His eyes gave a cursory look over the blueprint before he initiated the coding program. Thousands of lines of code scrolled over the screen. It had been ages since he had begun building this unit, and it had never worked like it was designed. But now, he hoped, he would have help from someone who just might know how the unit was really supposed to work.

Vegeta turned slowly to look at Daikkon, who upon meeting eyes with the prince, looked away.

The Saiyan had been smart enough to create a tiny device that totally erased his ki strength. Certainly the prince’s project wouldn’t be too much for him.

Besides, Vegeta was tired of Daikkon doing nothing except writing reams of Saiyan lore. It was about time the boy did something useful.

Vegeta printed a copy of the schematic and moved from his station to stand next to Daikkon. The younger Saiyan looked up at him.

“Yes, sire?” he questioned.

Vegeta set the blueprint down in front of him and was quiet a moment. Daikkon’s eyes moved quickly over the printout before turning back to the prince.

“Do you know how to build this?” Vegeta asked. Daikkon looked back at the paper with trepidation.

“I have studied its construction and programming in books, but I have never worked on one, sire, no.”

“Well, you are going to,” Vegeta said simply.

“Sire, doesn’t this facility already have a unit like this?” His eyes narrowed in concern. “Are you in need of-”

“I’m not in need of questions. I want you to assist me in completing this machine. Is that understood?”

Daikikon nodded.

“Yes.”

“Good.” The prince gave a sour look at the computer screen which held Daikkon’s most recent writing on Saiyan history. “You need to make better use of your time...”


Goku sat quietly in the living room of the Son house, sipping hot cocoa and reading. He felt much better today than the day before. True, he was still quite disgruntled over Vegeta’s rejection, but there were worse things to be rejected over, he supposed.

Last night had been a little awkward for him, but Chi Chi’s patience and enthusiasm more than made up for it. He wasn’t exactly sure that she wasn’t just trying to make him feel better in spite of her true feelings, but the gesture did not go unappreciated. He was grateful for her kindness. Although while she was pregnant, Goku found himself no less attracted to her new shape, quite the opposite. He had a feeling that this situation was not the same...

But he wasn’t going to dwell on it. Chi Chi loved him, and this was all happening far too fast for it not to be over before he knew it. These feelings of inadequacy were certainly the worst of it...

Without warning, the front door burst open, and Pan came barreling into the house accompanied by a freezing blast of wind.

“Grandpa!” she shouted, hopping over the back of the sofa and throwing her arms around him.

Goku chuckled, hugging her back, as a harried looking Gohan and Videl appeared, closing the door behind them.

“Pan, I told you to knock first,” Videl admonished, helping Gohan with his coat.

“She doesn’t have to knock,” Goku told them as his granddaughter settled at his side.

“How are you doing, Dad?” Gohan asked, sitting across from him.

“Oh, pretty good,” his father replied. “Can’t complain.”

Gohan glanced to his wife who was standing behind the sofa. She gave an incredulous look upon hearing Goku’s answer.

“I’m going to see if Chi Chi needs any help in the kitchen,” she said.

Gohan looked back to his father who was sitting patiently as Pan pressed both a hand and an ear against his belly.

“I can't feel anything...” the child mused. “Can you?”

“Yep,” Goku replied. “The book says that he might not be big enough for anyone else to feel. But he can recognize voices now, so if you talk to him, he can hear you.”

“Cool,” Pan breathed, turning her face down and cupping her hands close to her mouth. “Hi baby...” she cooed at his stomach.

“So,” Gohan began, a bit awkwardly, “is...is it a boy?”

Goku smiled, but shrugged.

“Dunno. Still can’t get a proper ultrasound.” He smiled then. “But boys seem to be my lot in life.”

Gohan smiled back, but felt it best not to point out that Vegeta was running 50/50 and biologically, they should be looking at his lot.

“I want it to be a girl!” Pan announced decidedly, sitting up. “It will almost be like having a sister.” She turned a cold gaze to her father, who expertly ignored the subject.

“So, how’s training going then?” he asked Goku. “It’s not getting too difficult, I hope.”

Goku’s cheerful expression faltered slightly.

“Well....I’m fine with training. I don’t find it very difficult....Vegeta, however…” He tried not to frown which only produced a grimace. “He is the one uncomfortable with training. So he has told me that he won’t spar with me anymore.”

“Oh,” Gohan replied sympathetically. Pan leapt to her feet.

“I’ll train with you, Grandpa!” she exclaimed. “I will come over after school every day!”

Goku’s smile returned, and he beamed warmly at the child.

“That’s very generous, sweetie,” he told her, “but I don’t know if that is necessary.” He was sure Goten would spare him an afternoon or two, and certainly so would Piccolo. Pan was strong for her age and a quick learner, but the idea of sparring with a little girl didn’t get his Saiyan blood pumping with excitement.

The front door flew open for the second time that night, and Goku’s youngest son stomped in, kicking his shoes off by the door.

“Hey, Goten,” Gohan greeted, receiving a grunt in reply.

“Goten, you wanna spar?” Pan asked eagerly, leaning over the back of the sofa. Goten gave a bitter snort of laughter before replying.

“No, not really.”

“Something wrong?” Goku asked, turning in his seat to look at the teen. Goten’s expression softened.

“Nah, I’m good, it’s just...just something stupid.”

He smiled reassuringly before heading up to his room. Gohan and Goku exchanged knowing looks before Gohan stood and followed his brother.

Goten was mumbling harshly to himself when Gohan reached the teen’s room. He watched the younger man a moment before speaking.

“What happened?”

Goten stopped muttering and pacing, looking toward his brother as though he were surprised he was followed.

“Whaddaya mean?” he asked.

Gohan smirked, crossing his arms.

“You’re not normally this angsty. What’s wrong?”

Goten’s answer was postponed by the electronic jingle of his cell phone. Goten looked at the incoming number and scowled, tossing the phone on his bed.

“Stupid,” he grumbled, before finishing flatly. “I broke up with Paris.”

Gohan nodded, understanding, but waited for Goten to continue.

“Why the hell are people so stupid, huh? You know, there are more important things in life than clothes and cars and...stuff...” He ran a hand through his hair, agitated. Gohan sat quietly in the chair by Goten’s desk.

“What happened?” he asked.

Goten made a sound of disgust in his throat and dropped onto the bed.

“I just...broke up with her,” he answered, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Did you have a fight?”

Goten was quiet a moment, staring down at his hands. His face was slightly flushed as he answered.

“Not...not really...” he began slowly. “It’s so weird...we were downtown and just walking around, and I realized...” He looked up at his brother. “That I don’t enjoy being with Paris. I mean,” he added quickly, “I do...I did....but, I mean, it was all superficial. I realized that I didn’t really know anything about her. Just her favorite designer, fashion icon and pop star...” He looked earnestly into Gohan’s face. “I tried to talk to her about other stuff - I tried to ask more in depth questions, and she wouldn’t respond! She just laughed and told me I was cute when I tried to be ‘intellectual’.” He groaned then, rubbing his forehead as if to ward off a headache. “I mean, I liked her and all...but...is it really fair to her, or me, to keep dating if there is no depth to our conversations? To our relationship?” Gohan could tell by his brother’s exasperated demeanor that there was more to the story.

“What made you decide this...today?” he asked. Goten sighed and rolled his eyes.

“I dunno. I’ve been thinking a lot lately...about who I am and what I want out of life...I guess...” He looked down again to where his hands were folded in his lap. “I can’t live a lie. I am Saiyan.” He looked up to meet his brother’s eyes. “And I am not ashamed. I don’t want to feel ashamed. I don’t want to hide what I am.”

Gohan was quiet a moment before he responded.

“I take it Paris wouldn’t understand?” Goten shrugged.

“She’s nice, don’t get me wrong, but she has a hard enough time glossing over the fact that we don’t have much money. I mean, there are only so many times I can hear ‘You’re lucky you’re so good looking’. My being from an alien race might be too much for her. I mean...” He shifted uncomfortably as he continued. “We were downtown shopping today, and she saw the store where we went to buy Dad’s clothes...well...she laughed and made a big deal out of how weird it was that it seemed like a store for pregnant guys...I dunno...I agree with her!...But it still hurt, you know?” He covered his face with his hands and fell back onto the bed.

“How did she take it?” Gohan asked.

“She was mad at me...asked me if there was someone else...Gah! I mean,” He dropped his hand to his sides and stared at the ceiling. "I feel bad if I have hurt her...but in the long run...we’re both better off...” He sighed again. “You probably think I’m being an ‘angsty’ teenager.”

Gohan smiled.

“Quite the opposite,” he replied. “I think you’ve said some very mature things. One, not wanting to continue in a superficial relationship and two...wanting a more profound one.” He gave the teen a pat on the thigh. “You’re growing up, Goten...maturing. You are perfectly fine.”

Goten sat up and addressed his brother in a serious tone.

“How did you find someone so fast who you knew would accept you?”

Gohan gave a mirthful laugh before answering.

“Well, Videl really found me - stalked me is more like it! To be honest, at first I didn’t know. And when I was ‘outed’ as a Saiyan and as part of the team that defeated Cell, she seemed okay about it. But, through weeks and months of talking and getting to know each other, I discovered her character and her values. It really just takes time.” When Goten rolled his eyes, Gohan continued. “Before today, you were looking for different values, Goten. Now you are looking for something more. Your plan of attack, so to speak, will alter to help you target what you want in a companion. I mean, unless you too are being stalked, you have to find her.”

Goten nodded in agreement.

“You’re right. I am looking for something different now.”

“You don’t even have to look until you are ready. Maybe some time alone to more greatly explore what it is you want. To get to know yourself. You’re still young.”

“Good advice from someone engaged right out of high school.”

Gohan grinned and blushed.

“That was different. I was ready. And we didn’t get married for a few years after that.”

Goten nodded.

“Don’t be in a hurry,” Gohan advised, standing. “Sometimes the best things are worth waiting for.”

“Right,” Goten agreed absently. Gohan ruffled his brother’s hair, earning him an irritated grunt from the teen.

“You should come downstairs, and we’ll play cards. What do you say?”

Goten pulled himself from the bed.

“Fine, but do you think you could slip me some sake to ease my troubled soul?” he asked in a dramatic tone.

“Right,” Gohan grimaced. “Like I want to be spanked by my mother in front of my wife.” Goten recoiled in mock horror.

“Keep your fetishes to yourself, dude! I just wanted to talk about relationships!”

Gohan scowled as his younger brother slipped past his reach and downstairs to join the others. He shook his head. Goten was almost a man now, and having always considered him something of a son, Gohan felt incredibly old at this moment. But he would be having a new baby sibling soon, more than twenty five years his junior...now, he felt really old...

A/N: Boy, I don't know about you guys, but I am SO ready for the birth!! LOL! Anyway, hope you all liked this chapter. I'm pleased with it. Thank you so much for all of the reviews that I recieved here and at the Salon. I love hearing what you think about the chapters and what you all think it going to happen next! You all really keep my spirits up! Also, I owe so much to my wonderful beta-reader, Rowina, I could not possibly express it in words. *hugs Rowina* Thanks again, ya'll! I am off to write some more! -B°