Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Unlikely Bond ❯ Certainty/Uncertainty ( Chapter 50 )

[ 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... ^-^

This chapter contains LEMON

Bulla moved quickly to keep up with her father as he strode through the hallways of Capsule Corporation. The employees gave both of them a wide berth and spoke salutations in an intimidated manner. Vegeta stopped at Bulma's secretary’s desk and cleared his throat. The young woman looked up from her day planner, shocked to see him.

“Mr. Vegeta, sir,” she began, standing. “Good afternoon. And to you, too, Miss Bulla.”

Bulla grinned.

“We’re here to see my mom,” she explained happily.

Bulma's assistant smiled back at the child.

“Of course, go right in.”

Without another word, father and daughter proceeded into Bulma’s office. They found her sitting behind her heavy oak desk in a large leather chair, phone propped against her ear and papers in her hands.

“I don’t care what the reason is,” she was stating firmly to the intimidated soul on the other end of the line. “But if we have to work around the clock, we will deliver the product on the schedule promised.” She motioned for the two Saiyans to sit in the chairs across from her and gave Vegeta a wink as she continued speaking. “Capsule Corporation has a reputation for delivering exceptional products when the customer needs them. If you cannot help me continue that, Tetsu, then I need to know.” She paused, and Vegeta and Bulla could hear the man on the other end of the phone stammering to assure her that he could. “Great.I have a very important meeting now, so I will be checking your progress in the morning. Goodbye.” She hung up the phone and gave her husband and daughter a sheepish grin.

“I know, I know. I should have been home an hour ago!” Vegeta merely shrugged in reply, but Bulla spoke up.

“Mom! Papa and I have something very important to discuss with you!”

“Don’t bring me into this,” Vegeta spoke, humorlessly. “This is all you.”

Bulma turned to her daughter, interested in what she had to say.

“Go ahead, honey,” she prompted.

Bulla grinned happily and looked her mother head on.

“Mom, I want a tail.”

Bulma’s eyebrows rose.

“...What?”

“A tail,” Bulla repeated. “Like Papa. I want one, too.”

Bulma’s shocked expression softened, and she smiled.

“You weren’t born with one, sweetie,” she tried to explain.

“I know. Dad told me,” the child continued with confidence. “But,” her face lit up with excited anticipation, “that regeneration tank that Daikkon built can grow me one!”

Bulma’s eyes shot to her husband. Vegeta stared evenly back.

“Really?” Bulma asked. Vegeta nodded, but remained silent. Bulma turned back to her daughter. “What brought on this new endeavor?”

“Because Papa grew his tail back,” the teal haired princess explained. “I like it. I’m proud that I’m Saiyan, and I want one, too.”

Bulma crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair. Vegeta narrowed his eyes as he watched her, trying to read in her posture and mannerisms how she was taking this turn of events.

“I see...so...how will you go about this?”

Bulla looked to Vegeta before turning back to her mom.

“Well...we’ll program the regeneration tank to fill in the broken sequence. You can set it to specifically regenerate a particular area.”

“But...you weren’t born with a tail,” Bulma repeated.

“That’s true,” the pre-teen said matter of factly. “However, I don’t have to tell you that it is still in my genetic coding to have a tail. We simply tell the machine that I had one, and it fills in the blanks.”

Bulma’s brow creased as she thought about that.

“And how do you get past the part where you have to have a wound in order to regenerate?”

Bulla continued, unfazed.

“It will only have to be a small wound.”

Vegeta noticed the way Bulma’s body tensed.

“Hmm....” she remarked, thoughtfully. “And you’ve given this a lot of thought?”

Bulla nodded.

“Yes. Besides, it's not like it has to be permanent. It’s not major surgery one way or the other. And Dad warned me that if I can’t control my ki, it can’t stay. But I’ve made up my mind.”

Bulma was quiet a moment as she observed the look of determination on her child's face. Her husband’s expression remained neutral.

“Sweetie, why don’t you go see what Grandma is planning for supper. I want to talk to your father about the reliability of the tank.”

“Sure,” Bulla replied. She knew that her parents were probably going to debate the issue, but she was confidant her father would stand strong for her.

When she was out of the room, Vegeta spoke.

“The tank is sound. I’ve gone over every line of data from the computer simulations, and I’ve tested it myself. Once on a major wound, as you witnessed, and several lesser ones since -- ”

“Vegeta,” Bulma broke in, “she wasn’t born with a tail!”

Vegeta paused, cocking an eyebrow before replying.

“Bulla explained that,” he said flatly.

Bulma groaned, pulling herself from her seat.

“Do you really know, for sure, if that machine can grow her a fully functioning tail? Because if it can’t, she will be bitterly disappointed. She idolizes you, Vegeta, in case you missed it. She worships theground you walk on.”

“I’ve mentioned that possibility; she accepts the risk.” he replied. “And her regard for me will only aid in my teaching her how to be a Saiyan that she can be proud of...” he added.

Bulma settled onto her husband’s lap, slipping her arm around his neck.

“Honey...I know you didn’t grow up on earth, but don’t you wonder what people might say if she stands out that badly? After all this time of not having a tail?”

“Raised on earth or not,” Vegeta answered seriously, “I don’t give a damn what the other people on this planet, or any other, feel about it. And I can guarantee you, the girl doesn’t either. Besides,” he added with a smirk, "with all of the unusual things humans do to their bodies, all of the piercing and scarring and surgery to change their appearances, I doubt anyone will notice the child’s tail.”

“You may have a point there...” Bulma agreed.

“Bulla has expressed pride in her heritage,” Vegeta began again softly. “I must admit that I feel pride in that myself. She has also expressed anticipating a strong connection to her unborn sibling, a full Saiyan...I don’t want to discourage such connections...but encourage them...”

Bulma pressed her lips to his forehead.

“I do, too, Vegeta. I just...” She sighed. “I don’t know...”

“Maybe,” he said slowly, “you care what other humans think?”

“Hardly!” she exclaimed. “I’m very proud of who, and what, you are.” She rolled her eyes at his incredulous expression. “Okay, so at first I was afraid that the military would come take you away. But now I worry what the scientific community would do. I mean, the last thing we need is for them to discover poor Goku! Alien or not, a pregnant man is something scientists have been pissing their pants over for centuries! They would want to put him in a lab and dissect him!”

“Let them try!”

The growl in Vegeta’s tone reverberated in his throat for a second after the words were spoken, and he sat awkwardly still for a moment. Bulma again pressed her lips to his forehead, kissing him gently.

“I know as Saiyans that you can protect yourselves from a vast number of humans,” she said, rising from the chair. “But I still worry.”

“You have no reason to worry,” he told her seriously. “No reason.”

Bulma smiled, looking down at him.

“The health and happiness of my family is all that worries me,” she explained. “Life is complex...everything else...I just go with the flow...as long as you love me...”

“What does that mean?”

She shrugged, leaning back to settle against the edge of her desk.

“It just means what it means...take it for what you will,” she said, picking up a pack of cigarettes and tapping them against her palm.

Vegeta stared at her as his mind processed that statement. What was the woman getting at? When had this conversation ceased to be about their daughter, a regen tank and a tail? Why did humans have to be so simple, yet so complex at the same time, especially this one?

“I take it that you see some change in life’s circumstances which will change the way in which I regard you?” His tone bordered on accusatory. Bulma shook her head.

“That’s not what I’m saying,” she replied. “I’m saying: As long as my family is happy and that you love me --” She paused, letting the words sink in. “-- everything else doesn’t matter.”

Vegeta was quiet as she waited for his response.

“I believe you changed the subject,” he stated dryly, causing her to grin and shake her head.

“I did,” she admitted. “If you think it is safe for Bulla to attempt to grow a tail, then I support you both.”

Vegeta nodded.

“I would never do anything to bring harm.” He stood from his chair and crossed to her, lifting a hand to caress her cheek. “To any of you.”

Bulma smiled, leaning into his touch. She brought her own hand up to gently draw her fingertips across the smooth skin of his temple.

“I know,” she stated, smiling at him. “But you have your work cut out for yourself, letting our daughter grow a tail. I mean, those things add a ton of sex appeal.”

Bulma felt a thrill at seeing his tail flex against his waist at her words, and his lips turned in a seductive grin.

Damn, he was handsome.

He had changed so little in the time she had known him. And what did change only became stronger, sexier and more defined. Since hearing Daikkon speak of Saiyan physiology, growth and lifespan, she had been thinking a lot lately about the large gap that separated them from humans. How old was the prince when she had first laid eyes on him? Daikkon had once described Vegeta as in the ‘autumn of his youth’. Did that make him a teenager by Saiyan standards? A youth? A young man?

And here she was in her fifties. An inter-species cradle robber.

Having been so focused on her own thoughts, Bulma didn’t notice her husband's curious expression. He narrowed his eyes as he looked into hers.

“What?” he asked, gently brushing his fingertips down to her jaw line. She shook her head, putting on a smile.

“Nothing. Just silly stuff...about how Bulla will need a whole new wardrobe to coordinate with her tail...about how she’ll tease Pan about it...”

“The novelty will wear off when she realizes that it is just another appendage and not an accessory.”

Bulma reached down to stroke the soft, sable fur of Vegeta’s tail.

“...yeah...”

The smooth, brown tail slowly uncoiled from his waist and moved to glide across her thigh before resting at her hip.

“You are an enigma, woman,” he whispered huskily, closing the small gap between their bodies. “To want to help others with their trouble, but hide your own.”

“I...I’m not...” she said lamely, bringing her hands up to his chest. “I just hope that everything works out.”

The prince tilted her chin up so he could look into her face.

“It will,” he assured her. “Because you are always telling me it will.”

She smirked.

“And you believe me?”

He smiled back, leaning in closer.

“Aren’t you a genius?”

Bulma’s laugh barely escaped her before his mouth was upon hers. She slipped her arms around his neck, partly to support herself as his weight forced her back against the desk.

Vegeta slid his hands up her torso, pulling Bulma’s silk blouse from where it was tucked neatly into her skirt. Bulma moaned softly, feeling his warm hands against her skin. She didn’t want to think about how much faster she would age than him. How much older she would eventually look...

“Vegeta,” she broke from their kiss and tried to gain his attention as he turned to her throat.

“Hm?”

“I...I don’t know if I can...” she said weakly.

“Don’t be silly,” he replied, his hands coming up to unbutton her blouse, his lips kissing each inch of the newly exposed flesh. “The child is far from here now, and the girl outside knows better than to disturb me.”

Bulma pushed him away, her brow furrowing in concern as she spoke.

“That ‘girl’ is thirty seven years old,” she informed him. Vegeta mirrored her look of confusion.

“And?” he asked.

Bulma gave an indignant huff before answering.

“Why am I always ‘woman’?” she asked. “Is...is it because I’m...old?” She felt actual fear rush through her as the word slipped from her lips.

Vegeta’s bewildered expression softened into an amused smile.

“No,” he purred, pressing his body back against hers, his arousal more than evident. "It is because you are my woman.” He kissed her deeply, momentarily taking the breath from her. “The only woman.”

Bulma felt her knees go weak as if she were just a girl, and she fell into his fevered pace. Shirts were quickly shed, and hands roamed over flesh as if it were newly discovered territory. There was no longer time or sense to think or concentrate on anything other than burning desire and the sound of deep kisses and shallow breaths.

Vegeta pushed Bulma’s skirt up to her hips and pulled down the delicate lacy panty underneath as her hands sought out the button on his jeans. He assisted her, unzipping the denim and moving the coarse fabric just enough to release his aching erection before pulling her back into his arms. Vegeta crushed his lips against hers, a need that went beyond the physical realm boiling within him. Pulling Bulma’s thigh over his hip, he leaned her back against the desk and buried himself within her.

Bulma let her head fall back against the heavy oak, gasping from the sensation. He knew exactly where to touch her, what angle to move against her, and drew forth from her many more gasps of delight with each deliberate thrust of his hips. She closed her eyes and basked in the sensation of a lover who knew her body sinfully well.

Bulma writhed in pleasure beneath her husband, her hands closing on his muscular forearms for stability and leverage as she pressed back against him. He had increased the pace of his thrusts, causing her thighs to tremble from the pressure of her impending climax. Vegeta lifted his hand to her breast and drawing his fingers over her heated flesh, dipping into the curve of her stomach before trailing down to where their bodies joined, his fingers adeptly seeking out her swollen clit.

Bulma arched her back off of the desk, biting down on her lip to contain her shriek of pleasure. Her hands fisted in her cerulean hair, devastating its expertly coiffed appearance.

Vegeta leaned back over her, grinding against her in the way he knew would bring her to her end. In a husky rasp, he whispered to her:

“Come for me...woman.”

She gasped, her body shuddering in release. Vegeta pulled her up into his arms, pressing into her to prolong the radiating waves of her orgasm until she relaxed against him. Bulma wrapped her arms and legs around him, turning her face into the curve of his neck and blissfully enjoying his continued movements until he too was brought to completion.

They rested in each other’s arms as their breathing calmed to normal and their heated skin began to cool. Vegeta gave a groan of satisfaction as he lazily nuzzled his wife’s neck, earning a giggle from her.

“Why is it,” he murmured. “that you make it impossible for me to know restraint?”

She sighed, shrugging her shoulders.

“I don’t know. But, I’m glad for whatever it is.”

The prince lifted his head to look into her face, and she smiled at him. So what if he was in the prime of his life? Hers was far from over, and she was going to enjoy every second of it. She was still beautiful. Still brilliant.

Still his.


“You’ll see, Piccolo,” Gohan spoke as he slowed his car and parked at the curbside. “This won’t be so bad. We’ll be in, we’ll be out, and no one will notice!”

Piccolo grimaced but didn’t reply as he, Gohan and Dende exited the vehicle.

Gohan suddenly made a startled choking noise, and he stopped in his tracks on the sidewalk.

“I...I might be wrong about one of those points...” he said glumly.

Standing in a rather obvious crowd in front of Manternity were Yamucha, Krillin, Master Roshii and Oolong. Gohan heard Piccolo give a grunt of annoyance and Dende sigh.

The three approached the group, who stood motionless, staringat the door.

“Is it closed?” Gohan asked, looking to the door for the store hours.

“No...” Krillin said in a zombie-like tone. “It’s open...”

The door opened, and 18 looked sternly at the group.

“Let’s NOT have this take all afternoon,” she demanded.

The group filed in after her, stopping once they were inside the door to be greeted.

“Welcome to Manternity!” Mal exclaimed, sweeping his arms open wide to indicate his establishment. “How may I help you all today?!”

There was too long a pause, so 18 spoke up.

“They’re with me...unfortunately.”

“I see!” Mal replied excitedly and turned toward a tall raven haired woman behind the sales counter. “Aurora! Please, more copies of Son Goku’s registry for our customers!”

The woman smiled warmly at them before turning to a small computer on the far side of the counter. Mal turned his broadly grinning face back to his guests.

“I am quite familiar with all of the merchandise that Manternity has to offer! I would gladly be of assistance with any of your shopping needs!”

Krillin paled slightly, but he quickly replied.

“We’ll just look around, thanks!” He took hold of Marron’s and 18’s hands and made a bee-line toward the toy aisles. 18 turned back to give Mal a bit of advice before she was out of earshot.

“I’d watch your mannequins around those two,” she said dryly, pointing to Roshii and Oolong.

“Here you are, darling.” Mrs. de Pavon approached the group, handing the stack of printouts to her considerably shorter husband.

“Thank you.” Mal began to eagerly disperse the registries. “If you need any help locating items, I will be happy to show you.”

“Hey,” Oolong chuckled, nudging Roshii, “I don’t see any breast pumps on here!”

Mal smiled earnestly as he replied.

“Well, we do carry several models, manual and electric, in a wide price range to suit every budget! If you would like to see them...”

Piccolo made a pained sound in his throat as Oolong mumbled a ‘never mind’ to their over excited sales rep.

Roshii frowned at the shape shifting pig and spoke to him in a low, harsh whisper.

“Hove some respect. Goku is like a son...some things are sacred.” Oolong blushed in embarrassment. “Now,” the aged martial arts master squinted at his list, “this task will be much more enjoyable if I can get that black haired beauty to help me out!”

“I’m flattered, to be sure!” Mal exclaimed. “But I’m happily married, so you know! I can, however, assist you in all of your Manternity shopping!” Before Roshii could utter a protest, Mal was sweeping him off toward infant bedding.

Yamucha chuckled, watching the group slowly spread out in the store. He looked down to his own list.

“Is there anything I can help you with?”

He looked up at Mal’s wife and blushed out of habit.

“Um...I’m...I’m just...gonna look...” he stammered. Aurora’s deep crimson lips gave a pleasant smile.

“If you need assistance, I’ll be at the counter,” she told him. “I’m also more than willing to receive autographs, if you are willing to supply them.”

Yamucha blushed brighter, watching her walk away. Why were all of the pretty women who remembered his run playing ball already taken?

He sighed, looking to his list, hearing Mal call out that shower gifts were always professionally wrapped free of charge at Manternity. He made his way to clothing, passing Piccolo, Gohan and Dende.

“See,” Gohan told his Namekian friends. “How much easier does it get than a list?”

“You were right, Gohan,” Dende replied. “I believe I will purchase the ‘Soothing Sounds Relaxation Station’ for 27.85 zeni in aisle 3b.” Gohan tried not to chuckle at Dende’s verbatim reading of the list. “I cannot think of a more wonderful thought than the peace of music for a newly born child.”

Gohan smiled as the guardian left.

“And you, Piccolo?” he asked. “What do you think?”

“I think this is ridiculous!” Piccolo grumbled in reply. “We’re not even certain that these are items that Goku picked out!”

“True,” the Saiyan replied. “And no one said we had to go by the list. Any gift, when given from the heart, is always appropriate and always welcome. Remember,” Gohan put a hand on his dear friend’s shoulder, “the most important gift we will be giving my dad is the gift of our kind thoughts and our time.”

Piccolo’s sour expression didn’t soften.

“Well,” Gohan continued with a sigh, scanning the registry, “I think I am interested in the ‘6 Piece Bathing Center’. If you need me, I’ll be in --”

“Isle 6a. I can see that,” Piccolo replied grumpily. He watched the younger man walk away before giving the store a surveying look.

“Finding everything alright?” Mal asked, appearing suddenly at his side.

“Fine,” Piccolo stated shortly, irritated at being approached by the exuberant clerk. It didn’t faze Mal.

“Mr. Son is certainly blessed to have such caring, supportive friends. It is an honor to be of any assistance, however small. So please, do not hesitate to ask.”

Piccolo looked down at the deceptively youthful looking human, and he did hesitate before speaking. But Mal was right. He did care, and he did support Goku in his decision.

In a low voice, the Namekian whispered:

“Where are the...blankets?”


Goten lay on the sofa in the Briefs' den, watching Trunks as he meticulously wrapped the gift that he had purchased for Goku’s baby shower.

“So what is that again?” Goten asked, pulling a pillow under his head and rolling onto his side.

“It is a ‘Musical Magical Potty Seat,' ” Trunks stated. “I’ve already told you. Since this baby is going to grow quickly, your dad will need this sooner than normal.”

“Oh, I know,” Goten said with a grin. “I just wanted you hear you say ‘Musical Magical Potty Seat’ one more time.”

“Jerk,” Trunks mumbled, taping the last open end. “What did you get him?”

“Nothing yet,” Goten replied, rolling onto his back again. “I’m really not sure what to get. Limited funds, ya know?” he said with a grim smirk.

“Well...” Trunks replied, standing, “how about clothes?”

Goten sat up as Trunks nudged him to move.

“What size do you get a baby that grows like mad? And they don’t sell baby shirts that say ‘Future Porn Star’.”

“Your mother would kill you,” Trunks told him seriously. Goten laughed.

I know...poor Mom. She’s really trying hard to be supportive of Dad in all this, but you can’t tell me it’s not getting to her. Especially when he just seems to be getting bigger every day.”

Trunks nodded in understanding.

“How do you think she’ll take this shower?” he asked his younger friend. Goten shrugged.

“Who knows. My money is on ‘simmering in silence’...that’s Mom for you. But Dad needs these things, and it’s not his fault this happened...or Uncle Vegeta’s...” The corners of Goten’s lips began to quirk into a smile as he said, “It’s not like your dad’s my dad’s ‘baby daddy’...ya know it?”

Trunks covered his eyes at the crude humor.

“That is so wrong,” he groaned. Goten shook his head to rid himself of the laughter.

“My bad...I’m sorry.”

Trunks gave a great sigh, leaning his head on the back of the sofa.

“This baby will be our little sister or brother -- together,” he spoke.

“...Weird,” Goten responded before asking: “What does that make us?”

“Friends,” Trunks answered.

“Cool!” Goten shouted, leaping onto the sofa. “We can still get married!”

Trunks laughed as Goten’s weight hit him, and the younger Saiyan began hugging him enthusiastically.

“You wear the wedding dress since I have to have the babies. You’re just prettier, anyways.”

“Get off me!” Trunks cried, with laughter still obvious in his tone.

“You’re not that delicate,” Goten assured him, leaning purposefully now to crush his friend. “Does this hurt?” he asked, giving a playful punch to Trunks’ rib cage.

“What are you two doing?”

The boys scrambled to their feet at the interruption. Goten grinned cockily, and Trunks ran a hand through his disheveled hair before answering.

“Nothing, Bulla. Goten was just being a freak.”

Bulla narrowed her eyes at the two before speaking again.

“You can have babies, too, Goten?” she asked.

Goten cleared his throat, dropping back onto the coach.

“Who knows, kiddo,” he stated. “I don’t ever want to find out.”

Bulla seemed to consider that information before nodding and turning to her brother.

“Are you gay?” she asked pointedly.

Trunks’ skin burned scarlet.

“No!” he exclaimed in exasperation. “Why aren’t you asking Goten!?” he demanded. “He was the one on top of me!”

Bulla folded her arms across her chest. Goten noticed it made her look remarkably like her father.

“Because I’ve seen Goten go out with girls. You haven’t dated anyone since that mousey girl from the library, and she dumped you.”

Trunks scowled, looking to his friend for support.

“She did dump you, man,” Goten reasoned. “Maybe you should have donated some books to her branch, if ya know what I mean?” Trunks was openly scowling now.

“I don’t think that would have worked,” Bulla stated matter-of-factly, settling next to Goten. “She broke up with him because he wouldn’t do more than kiss.”

“What!” Trunks nearly shouted. “Where did you get that idea?”

Bulla shrugged.

“I heard you telling Mom.”

Trunks groaned, and Goten laughed heartily, throwing his arm around the young girl and giving her a half hug.

“He was right though, sport,” he told her. “That girl was not the one.”

“I know.” She turned to Goten and spoke gravely. “She really needed a stylist...and an eyebrow waxing.”

Goten laughed again at his friend's expense.

“What do you want, Bulla?” Trunks asked her with a sigh.

“Nothing. I’m just waiting for Papa to finish convincing Mom to let me grow a tail.”

There was silence among the Saiyans before Goten spoke.

“Wh-what?” he asked, turning to look at her.

“Papa said to keep it a secret until we asked Mom,” she explained joyfully. “But that regen tank that Daikkon built can correct where in my genetics that it said not to grow a whole tail.” She looked happily between the two young men. “You can, too, I bet!”

Trunks and Goten had expressions of a more serious nature than she was expecting.

“Isn’t that cool?” she asked.

“Papa thinks...” Trunks began hesitantly, “that this would be...safe?”

The petite princess rolled her eyes.

“Well, he said I would have to have intense ki training like Uncle Goku, and then he would have to take me on a trip to test my control -- just the two of us -- to see if I turn Oozaru and whether or not I can control it...” She smiled brightly then. “Papa says that I have the makings of a proper elite! Cool, huh?”

Trunks and Goten exchanged weary looks.

“Cool...” Goten agreed.

“And what did Mom say?” her brother asked. Bulla shrugged.

“She asked about all the safety stuff...but she and Daddy usually agree in the end.”

“No, they present a united front,” Trunks corrected. “There’s a difference. If Mom says no, Dad will support that...Are you sure this is what you want?”

“Look,” Bulla stated firmly, standing. “I am eleven years old! When Dad and Uncle Goku’s baby is born, it will just be a baby. It will have a tail, and no one will care because it is Saiyan. Well, I am Saiyan, too!”

“I understand that, Bulla --”

“I like being Saiyan,” she cut in. “You can like being human.”

“We are both half human,” Trunks reminded her gently. “You should be proud of that, too.”

Bulla frowned before turning on her heel and stalking from the room. Trunks settled wearily next to his friend.

“She’s got a point,” Goten remarked. “There is no one to say that this new baby should have its tail removed. It’s Dad’s and Vegeta’s decision. Not your mom’s or mine...”

“That decision was made in the best interest of our, and this planet’s, safety,” Trunks said diplomatically. “It would have been very hard to control us since they couldn’t go Oozaru and overpower us.”

“But,” Goten added, “it’s not like they couldn’t ascend.”

“Yeah, but it would have been my dad and Gohan against two ornery Oozaru.” Goten sobered.

“Oh yeah...we were pretty bad,” he added with a grin.

“Yeah, so I could only imagine Bulla...” Trunks sighed. “It’s a big decision, but I’m sure that my dad knows what he’s doing.”

“Agreed,” Goten stated. “But...I still think he could have taken us.”

“But at what expense to the planet?”

The teens sat in silence a moment, both staring blankly across the room.

“Trunks,” Goten began hesitantly, “how bad do you think things are going to change?”

Trunks turned to his friend.

“What do you mean?” he asked. “What will change?” Goten sighed.

“Everything. Once this baby comes...I mean, things are already so different...but when this baby is here...Gah, yaknowit?”

Trunks nodded slowly, years of being nearly inseparable helping to find clarity in Goten’s words.

“It will work out, though. Our dads are two of the strongest men in the universe. They’ll make it work.”

“And I’ll be a big brother.” Goten grinned.

“It’s only a good thing when it's not a girl,” Trunks informed him. “Otherwise, you spend all of your time being a servant, worrying like a parent and being as overprotective as you can.”

“Ah, Bulla’s a strong girl. And a smart one,” Goten told him, nudging the other’s knee with his own. “She’ll make good choices...that, and she will always have the ‘scary dad’ factor to help out.”

Trunks sighed.

“We’ll see...”

Goten was quiet a moment before he began chuckling. Trunks raised an eyebrow as the younger teen spoke.

“I can’t believe she just asked you if you were gay,” he sniggered.

“Shut up, it’s not funny.” Trunks folded his arms, pressing himself back into the sofa. “Because even if I was, I still couldn’t find a decent guy who can see me as more than just the face of Capsule Corp.”

“I’ve told you before,” Goten replied, lying back onto the couch, dropping his head into the older boy's lap and looking up at him. “There could be worse obstacles in finding a mate. But I’ll tell you what,” he grinned roguishly. “If you’re still single when you’re old, like twenty five, I’ll make the sacrifice and marry you.” Trunks rolled his eyes. “You can wear the wedding dress, ‘cause I gotta have the babies. But I’m gonna be a stay at home, kept man, okay?”

Trunks shook his head, but was smiling.

“Whatever,” he mumbled. “Of course, we already have my father’s blessing.”

Goten’s brow furrowed in confusion upon hearing this.

“What?”

Trunks blushed and began nervously twisting the spikey hair atop Goten’s head.

“Well, once we were having a talk - about Saiyans and your dad - and he asked me, well, because I think he was concerned because this whole ordeal was news to him,” Goten’s eyes remained focused on his friend as he rambled. “And well, he asked me if you and I were...well...close, and I said no, and he said that it didn’t matter to him or that it didn’t matter...or something like that.” Trunks looked down to meet his younger friend’s eyes. Goten was smiling.

“That just made my day!” he said with laughter in his tone. “That means your dad really likes me!”

Trunks grimaced.

“Dad loves you, Goten. Just as much as he loves me.”

“Oh, is that what he means when he calls me the ‘second spawn of Kakkarot’?”

“He hasn’t called you that in years!” Trunks replied. Goten sighed contentedly.

“Yeah, but there is a difference in loving me/tolerating me and loving me/thinking of me as family.”

Trunks nodded, still absently combing his fingers through the teen’s raven hair.

“We’re like real family now...”

“Yeah...” Goten closed his eyes, contented with the pleasant feeling of Trunks’ fingers in his hair. Trunks remained silent, thinking about that statement. His father and Goten’s father would have this baby together. Their child. It was a hard concept to grasp.

“We can go out tomorrow and look for a gift if you want to,” Trunks suggested. “I only have one morning class.”

“Sure,” Goten replied. “We can pick up the cute sales girls that try an’ help us.” The younger boy sighed then, rubbing his eyes with his fingertips. “I sure hope my dad takes this as well as I hope he does,” he said. “He really deserves to know that we support him and love him...and really respect that he’s got the balls to go through with all this, despite what has happened and despite what everyone might have thought.”

“Well, my mom thought really hard about what to include and what not. There were some games that were pretty far out there in terms of tastefulness.”

“Like what?” Goten asked with a grin.

“I don’t know...” Trunks thought. “Like melting chocolate bars in disposable diapers and trying to identify the candy by smell.”

Goten let out a laud bark of laughter.

“Holy shit! Could you imagine anyone doing that?!” he exclaimed, tears welling up in his eyes. “Like Gohan...or Piccolo?”

Trunks smiled as well.

“No. But Mom must have, because she sure laughed as hard as you before saying no to that one.”

“Too bad,” Goten sighed.

“Well, the games she did pick are pretty tame and traditional. Hopefully, it will be fun.”

“Hopefully,” Goten echoed, a smile still on his face. “I can’t wait.”


Goku walked slowly through the forest, enjoying the spring breeze and the late afternoon sunshine. The small burst of energy he had felt after lunch was beginning to wane as he strolled, and he started to think about stopping to rest. He couldn’t imagine much better than a nap in the fresh air.

The baby kicked sharply and twisted, causing Goku to stop in his tracks. Only one thing caused such animation in his unborn child.

Its father.

A grin lit Goku’s face as he headed toward the nearby cave that held Vegeta’s ki signature. When it was within sight, he paused.

He had experienced two more dreams about Vegeta that were not romantic but intimate in nature. He had read in a pregnancy book that bizarre dreams were to be expected. But did overtly sexual dreams about your child’s father count as bizarre?

Goku was starting to believe that he should just settle for being confused through the remainder of this process, and possibly for the rest of his life.

He continued on toward the cave, calling a greeting to his friend who was sitting in the cave's threshold.

“Good afternoon, Vegeta!”

Vegeta gave a nod in return.

“It’s almost evening. What are you doing out?”

Goku took a deep breath, looking up into the sky.

“Nah, there are still several good hours of daylight left,” he reasoned. “I just had lunch!”

Vegeta smirked, amused.

“How many lunches have you had today?” he asked.

Goku considered a moment.

“Oh...uh..two. Yeah, you’re right. I --” Goku stopped short within a few feet of Vegeta, his sensitive nose catching the older Saiyan’s scent. The prince’s natural scent was stronger, mingled with the sweeter spice of his wife’s. It stunned him to have Vegeta’s own comforting, warm scent to be muted by another’s. But it was the underlying hint of sweat and sex that made his stomach twist with unease. While the realization of his pregnancy, for at least the last six months, was impossible to ignore, it had been easier to forget what he and the prince had to do to conceive a child together. And while the dreams had been vague, the smell was powerful in smacking him with the memory.

“What’s wrong?” Vegeta asked, concerned by Goku’s sudden change in demeanor.

“Oh --” Goku shook his head and smiled. “Nothing...so...how...how has your day been?”

Vegeta stood, allowing the younger Saiyan past.

“Not disagreeable,” he replied.

“Huh...good.” Goku settled down on the floor in front of the fire pit they had assembled some months back. He stared down into the charred timber and ash. “The weather is getting warmer,” he stated. “It will be nice for Bulma’s barbeque.”

Vegeta didn’t respond as he leaned against the wall and folded his arms.

“So,” Goku continued, “what are you doing here?”

The older Saiyan frowned at the invasion of his privacy, but he understood now that this was the way of friendship.

“Thinking.”

“About what?”

He sighed.

“I am going to start ki training Bulla after this week. She wants to grow a tail.”

Goku’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Cool!” he exclaimed. “That will be awesome! I bet it took some convincing Bulma.”

Vegeta shrugged.

“She was relatively easy to convince. Most likely because she understands the science...”

Goku pulled his tail over his belly and stroked it affectionately.

“It is so different to have this...it reminds me of how I was when I was younger...more in tune with the planet and with myself.” He looked up at his fellow Saiyan. “Of course, I don’t know how much is the tail and how much is the pregnancy. I mean, I’ve been through so many changes. Things taste different. My hearing is more sensitive....so is my sense of smell.”

Vegeta shifted uncomfortably.

“Don’t be embarrassed,” Goku implored. “I’m glad you two still love each other.”

Vegeta grimaced.

“What do you mean?” he asked defensively.

“Nothing. I mean...if I wasn’t the size of a dinosaur, I might have sex with my wife in the afternoon, too.”

Vegeta brought a hand to his head as if feeling the beginnings of a headache.

“Don’t...be vulgar,” he spoke wearily.

“It’s not vulgar,” Goku defended himself. “It’s a fact of life. Husbands and wives have sex. No one cares.”

“This is not something we should discuss,” the prince snapped, pushing himself from the wall. “It is personal.”

“I’m not asking you about your sex life, Vegeta,” Goku retorted, a little surprised by his own emotion. Was it anger? “I mean, should there really be anything we can’t talk about? I am having your child, and we did have sex.”

Vegeta’s face became impossibly white before flushing deep red.

“What happened between us was not sex!” he shouted, his hands clasping into fists. “It was rape! A punishment! There is no connection between the two!”

Goku scowled, wrapping an arm around his rounded abdomen as if Vegeta were assaulting him physically and not verbally. He had not expected such a casual meeting to escalate into something like this.

“I’m not accusing you of having sex with me. And I am not trying to get you to tell me your personal stories. But it is a fact. What I meant was that we have been through everything together, now. You shouldn’t feel as if you can’t speak freely with me.”

Vegeta sighed, pressing his palm to his temple.

“You are so naive, Kakkarot,” he spoke. “And there are things which I do not care to explain.”

Goku frowned, blushing.

“I’m not so naive that I don’t know about sex between men,” he grumbled.

Vegeta turned and stared at the younger man with a look that was part shock and part disbelief.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he advised. “You have no idea what you are talking about. This conversation is over. You are not the size of a dinosaur and will be back to yourself in a matter of weeks.”

Goku felt a pang of guilt in Vegeta’s listless manner. He hadn’t meant to force any unpleasant memories for the prince. His emotions just seemed to get the better of him.

“I’m sorry,” he said honestly. “I didn’t mean to make you angry, and...I didn’t mean to imply that you and I...I don’t know...”

“You didn’t,” Vegeta told him. He looked down at Goku, who stared back at him with eyes that did speak regret. The prince wished now he hadn’t raised his voice. But old habits die hard, and the new habits seemed to be fighting every step of the way. He turned away from those large, pitiful eyes and leaned in the archway of the cave mouth. “I just don’t want you to confuse the two. Rape is about power. Sex can be, but the two are not related in any way. It is not a subject that I think appropriate, even among friends.”

“I wasn’t trying to pry...” Goku said quietly. “I guess...I don’t know...maybe I watch too much T.V.” He sighed. “I don’t do much else these days.”

Vegeta didn’t turn as he asked:

“You...you talk to your human friends about such things?”

Goku shook his head, smiling sheepishly.

“No. But you’re different. I just...I just thought you and I would understand each other better.”

Vegeta turned, looking shocked.

“Because of...that?”

“Oh, no!” Goku said hurriedly. “Because we are Saiyan! I thought, or maybe I hoped, that I was becoming a bit more like one...and that you would actually see me as someone you could be real friends with...”

Vegeta’s voice sounded tired as he spoke.

“You are Saiyan, Kakkarot. And...we are friends...I suppose.”

Goku felt his heart skip with happiness.

“You really feel that way?”

“I said so, didn’t I!” the prince grumbled. Goku smiled.

“Don’t worry, Vegeta,” he said. “We won’t talk about anything you don’t want to. Especially personal stuff. Well, some personal stuff. Sometimes you just need someone to talk to about things.” Vegeta focused on the surrounding trees as he listened to his companion ramble. He was beginning to think he could just tune to the other out, but it was almost impossible. “I don’t think I’ve ever wanted to talk about ‘that’. Well, maybe at first, a long time ago...but everything worked out...I don’t really need to talk about that...I mean, I’m a little confused about some other stuff...I guess there has to be something to it...but...I don’t know...I couldn’t imagine being happy with a man...like Bulma’s friend...but I see how that could be real love...since...since it’s so unpleasant...bad really...and they stay together...seventeen years, she says...” Goku had been staring into the dry fire pit as he ran off at the mouth, but when his eyes darted to the older Saiyan, he froze. His words quickly died out. Vegeta looked horribly offended. Goku swallowed hard, his mouth having gone bone dry. “What?” he croaked.

Vegeta’s voice was a quiet, serious whisper.

“I would never - never - be so monstrous as to force your body to betray you, Kakkarot. What I was required to do was heinous enough on its own without inflicting further shame on you by making it a pleasure.”

Goku felt his chest tighten with uncomfortable embarrassment.

Vegeta’s eyes looked so horribly sad and full of regret. He continued.

“You are so naive...but I’m glad for that.”

Goku shook his head in disbelief, his voice choked.

“What did he do to you?”

The question sounded like a gunshot in the dead of night.

Vegeta’s face contorted into a mask of pain as a myriad of emotions passed through his shining, black eyes. Just as suddenly, he relaxed, and his expression softened into nothing but exhaustion.

“Not what you think.” He grimaced. “Not how you think.”

“Vegeta,” Goku breathed. “I am so sorry.”

“Feel sorry for those who did not survive. I lived, Kakkarot. Do not feel sorry for me.” Vegeta crossed to the center of the cave and looked down at the younger man. “You need to eat and to rest on something other than this stone. I’m escorting you home.”

Goku stood, wiping the dust from his pantlegs.

“You don’t have to.”

“Nonsense. You look as though you would pass out from sleep deprivation, and I can’t have that on my conscious.” He smirked. “How could I live with myself, knowing you were finished off by a hungry carnivore and not by my own hand?”

Goku grinned.

“Right.”

He smiled at the prince for a minute, his emotions still coursing unbidden throughout him. He was overcome. Vegeta has suffered so much. He was right; Goku was naive. Even after all this time, there was so much he had to learn...and Vegeta actually wanted to protect him from that.

Without warning to either man, Goku reached forward and embraced the startled royal. Vegeta’s entire body stood shocked and still as the taller Saiyan squeezed him in an impulsive hug. Again, Vegeta’s mind ran the gamut of emotion, beginning with anger and ending with intrigue. From this vantage point, he could feel the tiny child shiftingwithin his fellow Saiyan. His child. Full of power and life. Instinct urged him to raise his hand to Kakkarot’s belly and connect with the baby, but before he could act, Goku pulled away.

“I’m sorry! I don’t know what came over me!” he apologized. “I just felt you...needed it.”

Vegeta smirked, covering his momentary lapse with his usual cool facade.

“I’m still taking you home,” he threatened. “But touch me again, and I will need to beat you down.”

Goku nodded, embarrassment coloring his cheeks.

“Are you really going to let Bulla grow a tail?” he asked, following the prince back out into the fading daylight.

“Yes.”

“What about Trunks? Or Goten?”

“They haven’t suggested it.”

“Of course, if it doesn’t work out, those suckers pop right off!” Goku pantomimed what appeared to be plucking a root vegetable from the earth and made a popping sound with his mouth.

Vegeta flinched, his tail contracting.

“That is quite enough, fool.”

Goku continued to chatter as they walked, neither feeling the need to re-address the events of moments ago, but falling back into their normal pattern of conversation in the way of old friends.


A/N: Yay!!! I updated!!! And I can't believe this is chapter 50!! Big number! ^_^ I’m so sorry that it took so long. Some times real life can be a real bitch. On top of all of the RL stuff, my computer totally blew itself up and I lost all of my story (this is the second time!) and my beta’s computer was struck by lightning and she was without the internet for several long weeks. So, I hope you all liked this chapter. I know it’s not the baby shower (which is the next chapter, I promise!) but some expressed an interest in hearing the shopping scene and I had a few more things to add in before the shower. So, chapter 51 is being beta’ed right now and hopefully I will have it up by next weekend. Hope everyone had a happy Thanksgiving!!! -B