Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Whatever It Takes ❯ Chapter 5

AN: Okay, here we go: the first major turning point in the story. Actually, the first two.

I can't claim to know what Dr. and Mrs. Briefs' first names are. You probably already caught Dr. Briefs calling his wife "Bunny" in Chapter Four. I am going to call him Shatsu, which means "shirt" in Japanese.

One more thing- for some odd reason, when I posted Chapter Four, it ate the name of the city out of the first line and left it as "This is the best butcher in ." It did it again when I first posted this chapter, so I am giving you the name like so: S.a.t.a.n. C.i.t.y. I've also had trouble with W.e.s.t. Capital C.i.t.y. with one chapter but managed to resolve it. Very strange. Hopefully everything will show up this time now that I've completely weirded up the names. At least you get the idea now. Has anyone else had this weird problem?

I am updating this chapter because I realized too late that I included Goku's existence during Bulma's conversation with her parents at the dinner table, even though as far as they know, he had died. Whoops. I've changed that.

Thanks again to my hubby for his assistance in making this chapter just right. :)

Enjoy!


Disclaimer: Dragonball Z was created by Akira Toriyama. It is owned/licensed by Toei, Bird Studios, Shonen Jump, Funimation, and Viz, not me. However, you will see some characters that weren't created by Toriyama-san, and those are my brainchildren. No money was made in the production of this work, more's the pity.


Chapter Five

"How much longer, Woman?"

The foot poking out from underneath the control panel twitched and Vegeta couldn't help but grin, knowing he had irritated the blue-haired scientist again. She got a fire in her eyes when she was angry that he enjoyed both seeing and provoking. It reminded him of the look in the eyes of a female Saiyan he'd once seen knock a rather burly male Saiyan out cold with a single punch to the jaw when he had annoyed her. "Vegeta," she began calmly, "if you ask me again I will deliberately disable this thing to the point that it will take even my father a month to figure it out," she growled. He was worse than a child in the car on vacation asking "are we there yet?" on a continual basis.

"No, you won't," he contradicted her, reaching out with his foot and rolling the dolly she was laying on out from under the control panel. "This is your project. How would it look if you couldn't fix it?"

She looked up at him and sighed in exasperation. "Sometimes I rue the day I invited you to stay here, let alone build this stupid training capsule for you," she groused. "You do nothing but eat, sleep, train and complain that 'it broke again, Woman' when you mess it up. I hardly ever see you anymore, except when you want something from me."

"Aww, I know that you really would miss me if I were gone," Vegeta teased. He reached down and hauled her to her feet, pulling her body up against his. "Wouldn't you?" He nuzzled his nose against the side of her neck, chuckling from deep in his throat when she trembled in his arms.

"You're such a bastard sometimes," Vegeta," Bulma complained, but she made no move to elude his attentions.

"Mmm-hmm." His hand moved down to swat her on the backside, and she jumped. "Just fix the thing, got it?"

Despite his selfish attitude, Bulma couldn't help but feel a sense of loss when he let her go and strolled out of Capsule Three, which she and her father had converted into this gravity training room she'd affectionately dubbed the 'GR'. She wasn't feeling all that affectionate toward it right about then. Lately Vegeta had been a pain in the ass, but when they were alone together, he could be so ardent in his attentions to her. It was those times that outweighed the annoyance and hurt she felt when he ignored her to train in this stupid GR, and kept her coming back for more of him.

Bulma lay back down on the dolly and wheeled herself back underneath the panel she'd been working on. She'd meant it when she said she hardly saw him any more, and actually found herself missing the arrogant Saiyan prince. She and her father had worked diligently on the GR for two weeks to get it ready for him to test, and test it he had. He'd broken the darn thing for the fifth time in little more than a week's time. ~Well, at least he's finding any deficiencies in the design. But when we do get it right, I really will never see the man, will I?~

She sighed and took a deep breath. ~I've got to calm down before I make myself sick.~ She'd caught a touch of the flu which had made her tired, cranky and physically ill, and working herself up only made it worse. "Stupid Saiyan," she growled to herself as she screwed the cover back onto a sub-panel she'd opened. "He'd better not break this again, because I don't feel up to fixing it right now." She wheeled herself back out and powered up the main console, pleased when the newly repaired room powered back on.

"Are you done yet?"

Bulma didn't even bother turning around. "I swear to Kami, Vegeta..."

He'd never tell her, but she was even more beautiful when she was angry, her little fists clenched tightly shut and that luscious fire in her eyes. He chuckled and came back into the room. "Can I use it yet?"

"There's no getting through to you, is there?"

"Nope. I'm a hopeless case," he drawled, curling his arms around her waist.

She shivered when his lips brushed over her shoulder toward her neck. "No argument there."

"Well?"

"I need to run some diagnostics, then you can have your precious training room back," Bulma told him bitterly. Now that he was in a rare good mood, she had to be in a sour one.

He didn't miss her tone. "Woman, you asked me to test this room. Why are you allowing yourself to be hurt when I am only doing as you wanted?"

Bulma turned to face him. "Because like I said, I never see you anymore, not unless you want something. You don't pay any attention to me unless it's to roll me over and hop on board."

"What do you want from me, Woman?" Vegeta growled, pulling away from her. "What was I doing just now, if not paying attention to you?"

Bulma felt guilt washing over her. He had stayed in the room for a while with her while she performed the repairs that day. Granted, he'd annoyed her by asking multiple times if she was done yet, but he'd been there rather than flying off somewhere to do whatever it was he did when he flew off. And he had put his arms around her just now and showed her affection, something he wasn't oft to do. Why was she complaining? "You... You're right, Vegeta. I'm sorry. I guess I'm just feeling irritable because of this flu or something I ate. Whatever it is, I don't know. But you have been paying attention today and I apologize." She stepped back over to him, putting her arms around him and burying her face against his shoulder. "Please hold me."

He drew in a deep breath.

"Please?" she whispered, looking up at him with those large, soft, oh so blue eyes.

He scowled at her but complied and curled an arm around her shoulders.

It was enough for the time being; after all, she had offended him. "Thank you." Bulma rested her head back down. "Vegeta, will you do something for me?"

"What is it, Woman?"

His deep voice rumbled beneath her ear. "You don't have to spend all day with me or skip any training, just... it would be nice to see you before you go," she explained. "Maybe just cuddle with me first for a couple minutes in the morning."

Vegeta's reaction would have been better had she asked him to shave his princely locks. "Cuddle? I don't cuddle, Woman," he objected.

Bulma said nothing. She should have known he would say that but still couldn't help but be disappointed. Rather than object, she kissed him on the cheek and slipped out from under his arm to run the diagnostics. She swallowed, determined not to let herself break down in front of him.

They stood in silence for a few minutes until the computer finished. "Everything looks fine. Let me know how high you set the gravity at and how the room responds to different levels and methods of your training, okay? That will help me better ascertain your needs and work on upgrades accordingly."

He grunted in response.

"Okay. I'm going to go lie down a little before dinner. I don't feel the greatest right now," she told him. "See you later."

Vegeta watched her go, then set the security lock so no humans could come in while the gravity was on. He set the gravity all the way up to 150 G and began to do katas. "Cuddle, hmph."

***

Bulma barely made it to her room and flopped down on her bed face first before promptly bursting into tears. "What's the matter with me? He is only doing what we asked him to. This is why we converted Capsule Three. So why am I letting it bother me so much?" she mumbled into her pillow. "I'm actually jealous of an inanimate object, how pathetic is that?"

There was a knock at her door. "Bulma? Are you all right, sweetheart?" her mother's voice issued through the door.

"I'm fine, Mom," Bulma responded, even though she felt anything but fine.

"May I come in, dear?"

Bulma held in a sigh. Her mother was way too perceptive and wouldn't back down until she was absolutely certain her little girl was all right. "Sure, Mom. It's open."

Mrs. Briefs came in and sat down on the edge of the bed. "What's wrong, dear?" She grabbed a tissue from the nightstand and dabbed at Bulma's cheeks with it.

"Thanks, Mom." Bulma took the tissue from her mother and sat up. "I guess I just don't feel very good today, that's all." She sniffled into the tissue.

Mrs. Briefs put her arm around Bulma's shoulders. "Oh, my dear girl," she began softly, "don't be so sad. It's just a new toy for him, like when your father gets a new piece of lab equipment. I've just grown accustomed to the fact that I won't see him for a while because he'll be tinkering with it. It doesn't mean that your father loves me any less, just that he's excited by something new. You'll see-" She paused when Bulma began to sob into her shoulder, and stroked her daughter's hair. "Sweetheart, I know you love Vegeta. You don't have to explain. But I also see the way he looks at you when he thinks no one is noticing. He hasn't lost interest in you because of the training room. It's just a new thing, and you know how all of your fighter friends are about training-"

Bulma began to wail. "That's the point! He's obsessed with training!"

Mrs. Briefs continued to stroke Bulma's hair. "Shhh... It'll be okay, dear. Don't cry." She laid her sobbing daughter down on the bed and covered her with the sheet. "Rest for a while. You'll feel better soon." She kissed Bulma's cheek and headed for the door. "I'm here if you need me, okay?"

The door clicked shut and Bulma let herself cry for a little longer before falling asleep.

***

Vegeta flew up to Bulma's balcony and pushed the bedroom window open. The room was dim, but he had detected the woman's ki inside. It had felt weak; sure enough, she was asleep on the bed.

He entered through the window then went over to the bed and looked down at her, unsure as to why he felt compelled to do so. He pushed the thought to the back of his mind and frowned when he saw the trails left by long-dried tears on her cheeks. The woman had curled herself up into a little ball and cried herself to sleep! Why? Why did she keep taking everything so personally, allowing herself to be hurt? This was especially the case recently. She was happy one moment, crying the next, fiercely amorous the next, then went right back to some sort of angry or weepy behavior.

Females were such an enigma, most especially this one.

He pulled some clean clothes out of a drawer and went into the bathroom to take a quick shower before heading downstairs to the kitchen. Once there, he immediately opened the refrigerator door with every intention of raiding it.

"Oh, there you are, Vegeta!"

Wonderful. Did the blonde woman have some sort of sensory perception that alerted her to his presence or something? She was always there! He glanced up at her briefly over the top of the open refrigerator door and grunted in response before going back to sifting through the leftovers from the day's meals.

"You must be hungry, dear. Let me fix you a little something before dinner," Mrs. Briefs offered. "It won't be ready for another couple of hours, and you've been training so hard, haven't you?" She fearlessly shooed him away from the refrigerator.

Vegeta would have been irritated by her dismissal had the words 'let me fix you a little something before dinner' not issued forth from her mouth. He sat down on a barstool at the counter. "Very well."

Mrs. Briefs pulled the remains of a roast from the refrigerator and placed a generous portion of the meat on a plate, followed by an equally generous portion of mashed potatoes and gravy. "So, how do you like your training capsule, Vegeta?"

Vegeta wasn't sure why the woman was attempting to make small talk with him, but he figured he should probably acknowledge her, since she was making his food. "It is serving my needs for now, but it requires further modifications."

Mrs. Briefs nodded. "That's usually what happens when Bulma and her father work on something brand new. Lots of trial and error." She placed his plate in the microwave and pushed a few buttons. "Bulma has worked so hard on that capsule. She only wants to please you and see you happy, you know." She looked up from the loaf of fresh bread she was slicing.

Vegeta shifted a little uncomfortably. What was he supposed to say to something like that? He knew where the conversation was heading. "I know," he admitted. "I do not know why she continues to take things too personally. I am only testing the capsule as she asked me to."

"Of course you are, dear." Mrs. Briefs got some leftover salad from the refrigerator and placed it in a bowl. "But you have to understand that Bulma has been feeling a little under the weather lately, not to mention that her womanly time is approaching. That usually makes her a little, well, emotional right around now." The microwave sounded and she hummed to herself as she got his food out.

Vegeta suddenly realized what the woman's mother meant- her monthly cycle was approaching. This explained much; he wasn't completely ignorant of such things. "I see."

"Also, since she's been here at home or in the lab working ever since she got home from space, I think she's a little lonely. She really likes you." Mrs. Briefs winked at Vegeta as she set his food in front of him.

Vegeta couldn't help but blush slightly at her insinuation. "Sure..."

Mrs. Briefs giggled. He was so cute, trying to avoid the issue. "Speaking of Bulma, she laid down for a nap a little while ago. I think she's still sleeping. I should wake her up soon so she'll be able to sleep tonight," she mused thoughtfully.

"Let her sleep. I will go speak to her after I finish my snack," Vegeta told her as he picked up his knife and fork.

Mrs. Briefs looked pleasantly surprised by this. "All right, dear. Would you like anything else before I start on dinner?"

Vegeta shook his head. "No." He paused. "What is for dinner?"

The interest in his voice was obvious and Mrs. Briefs giggled. Such a dear boy he was! She just loved feeding him. He'd try anything she made, and even though he never came right out and said so, she knew he liked her cooking. "I was thinking fried chicken with potato salad and coleslaw," she offered.

To her delight Vegeta perked right up. "Dinner rolls too?" he asked hopefully.

"Oh, of course!" Mrs. Briefs assured him. "I'll make the cheese flavored ones you like so much. What about dessert?"

Vegeta realized that he had been licking his lips in anticipation and quickly stopped the behavior. "Apple pie," he told her without hesitation. "The kind with the crumbly topping."

"You mean Dutch apple pie," she told him. "Sure, I can do that."

He grunted in approval and continued to eat his meal. "Good."

"All right, that's settled then." Mrs. Briefs opened the refrigerator and pulled out a bag of apples. She hummed contentedly to herself as she began to wash them.

Vegeta continued eating and watched as she got out a rather strange looking device, which she clamped down onto the edge of the countertop. She then skewered one of the apples on a sharp spike at one end and turned a handle to spin the apple. He watched with interest as the fruit was simultaneously peeled, cored and transformed into a long, thin spiral.

She caught him watching and held up the fruit. "Isn't that neat, Vegeta? When that's done, all I have to do is cut the apples in two and I have the slices for your pie." She seemed pleased with herself.

He grunted again, forced to admit that it was a useful little device she had there. "Good, because I like pie."

Mrs. Briefs laughed merrily and came over to take his now clean plate. "You're such a dear boy," she informed him. To his surprise, the blonde woman gave him a kiss on the cheek as she removed his plate. "I'm so glad you like the pie. Oh! I found some nice fresh pineapples at the market," she continued without missing a beat. "I have a pineapple pie recipe that's quite good. I'll make that tomorrow, maybe with a ham and yams for dinner."

Vegeta had been momentarily taken off guard by her open display of affection but managed to shake it off without her noticing. "I do not know what pineapple is," he told her.

"Bulma said you had pineapple topping on your avalanche sundae at that restaurant where you had the big steak," Mrs. Briefs reminded him. "The tangy yellow citrus fruit?"

"Oh, yes. I found it to be acceptable," Vegeta agreed. "You may prepare it for dessert tomorrow."

Mrs. Briefs beamed, not at all taken back by his 'permission' to make the pie. She figured it was just his way of saying that he thought he would enjoy trying something new but was too shy to say so. It didn't quite make sense to her, since he didn't seem to be shy at all about some things, while he was about others. Bulma had confirmed that the poor dear had experienced a harsh childhood, so she didn't pry. If Vegeta wanted to talk about it, he would. Meanwhile, she would just continue to attempt to get him to open up by trying to involve him in what she was doing and engaging him in general conversation. One never knew what he might say. "Wonderful. Did you want anything else, Vegeta? One of these apples, maybe?" She held the freshly washed fruit out to him. "I really enjoy feeding a strong young man like you, with that nice, healthy appetite of yours."

Vegeta hesitated for a moment, again taken back by her statement, then took the fruit and bit into it. He wasn't used to being pampered because the one doing the pampering actually enjoyed doing it. "Thank you," he told her quietly.

Mrs. Briefs smiled fondly at him. "You're very welcome, Vegeta." Without another word, she went back to making her pie.

Vegeta truly didn't know what to make of this woman. She was as much of an enigma as her daughter was. One minute she acted like a simpleton, then the next she did something that took him completely by surprise. Oftentimes she said something quite insightful; there was no way that she could truly be as silly or dimwitted as he took her for at times. It was evident that she was fond of him and liked to take care of him. Why that was he was at a loss to explain, but it did explain Bulma. Bulma behaved the same way in that respect- she was eager to please him however she could, and he realized that it took very little to do that, just as it did to make the blonde woman happy. He rose from his stool and disposed of the apple core. "I will rouse the woman," he informed Mrs. Briefs before leaving the kitchen.

"Thank you, dear," Mrs. Briefs called after him.

Still a little shaken by his revelation about the older woman, Vegeta's mind was running a mile a minute as he trudged up the stairs to Bulma's room. Part of his mind nagged him that it had always proven to be to his favor when he'd made efforts to please the little blue-haired female even in small ways, while the rest of his mind screamed that he was no one's servant and that someone beneath him like Bulma should be honored that he even acknowledged her existence, let alone graced her with his presence in her bed. His hand closed around the doorknob and he opened the bedroom door.

Bulma was still asleep, although she had turned over and was now on her back. He shut the door behind him and approached the bed, looking down at her. She was fond of him. She tried so hard to please him. While she had a temperament that reminded him of a Saiyan female's more than any other woman he had ever acquainted, she was kind, considerate and loving. She was intelligent and resourceful; the GR proved that. And she was beautiful, achingly beautiful, there was no denying that.

She was everything that he had ever imagined a mate to be.

Was that truly what he wanted? He knew she wanted to be near him and was forced to admit that he felt good around her. Would it be so terrible to claim her as his mate? Again, his mind was warring. Part of it said that he was free of Frieza's slavery and the hindrance it would bring to having a mate. It told him to claim the woman and enjoy her, her home and all that she offered him. She would be pleased by the gesture and the knowledge that he wanted her and only her for his own. The other part of his mind argued that she could never be as good as a Saiyan woman was, even a third class Saiyan woman, and that he should not lower himself in such a way. It would be disgraceful to take an alien as a mate. He didn't need a mate. In fact, she was a weakness to him!

He suppressed a sigh and sat down on the edge of the bed beside her. He did want her, damn it, and it made him angry. Would having her truly be such a bad thing? She was supportive of his desire to become a Super Saiyan and was even trying to help him do it. She had resources at his disposal that offered him a very comfortable life. His mind drifted back to her beauty, her sensuality. No woman had ever managed to provoke feelings in him like this woman had. He wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad one. He sighed, and reached over to stroke an errant piece of hair away from her face.

Her large blue eyes suddenly opened then widened in surprise when she realized who was with her, and what he was doing. "Vegeta?" she whispered.

Embarrassed at being caught by his 'weak' behavior, Vegeta stood up. "Your mother wishes for you to rouse yourself now," he told her before turning to leave.

She could sense the discomfort in his voice. "Wait!"

Vegeta turned back to her but said nothing.

"What is it, Vegeta?" Bulma also got up from the bed.

He frowned. "I don't know what you're talking about, Woman," he growled.

Bulma shook her head. "Mom would have come and woke me up herself," she pointed out. "Instead, you're here."

"Is that a problem with you?" Vegeta responded dryly. "You mother is making me pie. She didn't need the distraction."

"Oh." Bulma sat back down on the edge of the bed, her eyes lowered.

Vegeta could hear the disappointment in her voice that she made no effort to conceal. Why did it bother him so much to see her so upset- especially so since he knew that not only was he the cause of it, but that he could so easily change that? "I told her I would rouse you, Woman, but it wasn't because of the pie," he admitted, his confession coming out as a mumble.

She looked up at him then, her eyes wide and shining. "Vegeta?" A tear trickled down her cheek.

The hope in her eyes made his stomach twist. The woman really was that devoted to him; there was no mistaking it. Vegeta found himself imagining for not the first time claiming her for his own, her screams of pleasure as his teeth pierced her, the salty taste of her blood in his mouth, the feeling of her soft, warm body clinging desperately to his. Was that what he wanted? Wordlessly he walked back over to her and took her by the shoulders. "Stop crying, Bulma," he told her gruffly.

She only started crying more then. Again, he had used her name. He so rarely did that. "I- I'm trying to," she managed. She closed the gap between them and slid her arms around him.

Vegeta decided not to argue. Instead, he ignored his head and wrapped his own arms around her. "Don't cry."

Bulma felt like she was dreaming when he placed a gentle kiss on her hair and let his chin rest atop her head. A smile trembled at her lips. "Vegeta," she whispered, turning her head slightly to place little nips and kisses on his chest wherever her lips could reach any exposed skin.

Hormones winning out, he tilted her chin up and kissed her, pleased when she responded aggressively. It didn't take long before she began to pull at his clothing, almost tearing it in her haste to remove it.

They feverishly shed their clothes and fell back onto the bed, hands roaming. A low growl rumbled in his chest; her aggressive behavior was seriously turning him on. He kissed her harder, then worked his way down her jawline to that spot beside her ear he knew drove her wild. It wasn't that far from her neck... His mind continued the war with itself. Should he continue this?

Bulma was moaning loudly now and a small shriek escaped her lips when he bit her earlobe, hard, and tugged on it, flicking his tongue against the edge of it. Instinctively she buried her face against him to muffle her vocal response to his attentions.

His body jerked above her, and he lifted his head and gasped.

Bulma's eyes widened in shock. ~What the hell did I just do?~ she panicked. Vegeta was staring down at her with a surprised look on his face. She certainly couldn't blame him.

She had just bitten him.

Horrified when she saw what she had done to his neck, she lifted her hand to check whether or not there was blood on her mouth. There was, and she wiped it away hurriedly. "K-kami, Vegeta, I'm sorry," she stammered. "I've never done that before. This isn't even some kinky thing I've thought about doing, I swear. I didn't want everyone to hear us so I put my mouth against your shoulder to muffle myself and you just tasted so good and I guess kind of lost control," she babbled on nervously. Pinned beneath him on the bed as she was, all she could do was stare at the blood welling from the good-sized wound she'd made where her teeth had pierced his skin at the junction of his neck and shoulder. What would he think of her? What would he do?

"You must think I'm some sort of vampire, or a psychotic loony bin." She let out a nervous little laugh and forced herself to meet his eyes. "Aren't you going to say anything... Vegeta?"

The look of surprise he'd had when the blue-haired female had bitten him had been replaced with a look of pure lust. He leered at her and lowered his body down closer to hers, nipping and kissing the corresponding spot on her neck.

"You're not mad? You mean you're turned-ah! turned on by this?" she asked incredulously.

"Extremely," he breathed in her ear. Oh, yes. This little one was more like a Saiyan woman than he'd ever dreamt of finding. "You've got fire in your spirit, not like some pathetic, weak excuse of a woman. I've thought of marking you myself on several occasions." He licked the sweat from the spot, making her shudder.

"M-marking me? Do you mean that this is like some sort of Saiyan mating ritual?"

"Not like," his deep voice rumbled, making her completely weak. "Saiyans bite each other to leave a scar showing that they are mated and off limits to other Saiyans. Saiyans also mate for life, so a permanent scar is a fitting indication."

He was breathing heavily, his hot breath on her neck making her shiver and tremble beneath him. ~He wants to bite me? Is he actually going to do it? What exactly does he mean by mated?~ "Oh! Oh, Vegeta," she moaned as his sharp teeth grazed her neck. She could feel his arousal pressing painfully hard against her as he pressed his body firmly against hers. She arched up against him, her head back against the pillow, her neck openly exposed and inviting. He took the gesture as nothing less.

"I want you, Woman," he growled possessively, "and I'm making you mine." His decision had been made, ironically enough, by this weak, fragile little human. It no longer mattered what anyone else thought about it or what his life used to be. She was his now, his alone. He claimed her body as he bit down hard on her neck. Just as he had imagined she screamed his name in ecstasy, thrusting her hips up against his and clinging to him as tightly as she could.

There was a bustling sound of sudden activity in the hallway. "Bulma dear, are you all right? I heard a scream," Mrs. Briefs asked worriedly, opening the door. She had come upstairs to see if Vegeta had woken up Bulma- evidently he had- when she heard her scream. Her eyes actually opened, wide as saucers. "Oh, my!" she exclaimed, quickly shutting the door upon seeing her daughter and Vegeta locked in a passionate embrace, their bodies moving together frantically beneath the sheets. She giggled.

Dr. Briefs had returned from the lab and had been right behind his wife when she'd headed up the stairs. "Dear, is she all right?" he asked nervously. "What happened?"

Mrs. Briefs' cheeks colored slightly and she covered her mouth with one hand, giggling again. "Oh, she's just fine, darling. And from the looks of things, I don't think we should hold up dinner for them."

"Them?" Dr. Briefs inquired, then straightened up when he realized what his giggling wife's implication was. "Oh... Oh! Well, then, that confirms that suspicion."

Mrs. Briefs winked at him. "Dear, come now. He's been living here for a month now. You can't honestly expect me to believe that you didn't know they've been sleeping together."

Dr. Briefs sighed. Vegeta didn't exactly strike him as husband material, or even boyfriend material, but whatever made his little girl happy made him happy as well. "I suspected but I didn't want to pry."

His wife's excited giggling interrupted whatever else he was going to say, and she grabbed his hand to drag him away from the door. "Darling, just think of it! If she decides she likes him, what beautiful grandchildren we'll have!" she exclaimed, clasping her hands together.

Dr. Briefs couldn't help but laugh weakly. "Oh, I think it's probably safe to say that she just might like him, all things considered." He looked at his wife, who was beaming excitedly. "Now, dear. Let's not jump to conclusions, all right?"

"He's such a sweet boy, Shatsu," Mrs. Briefs continued, as if her husband hadn't uttered a word. "I'm so happy for Bulma."

Dr. Briefs lead her back down to the kitchen. "As long as he makes Bulma happy, then I'm satisfied." He hoped he knew what his daughter was doing.

***

Bulma stretched and curled up against Vegeta's chest, snuggling up under one of his arms. "Mmmm... that was spectacular," she sighed contentedly.

"Of course, Woman," Vegeta responded, unwilling to admit that he too had been very much affected by their coupling. "But now that you have been adequately satisfied, I want you to cease with the behavior you have been exhibiting of late. It is not befitting of the mate of a prince."

Bulma rolled over slightly and rested on her elbow so she could look at him. "What do you mean by 'mate', Vegeta?"

"I thought I had made that clear to you," Vegeta responded. "You belong to me now, and to no other males."

Bulma's eyebrow rose, and her lips curled up into a little smile. "Does this mean you belong only to me, too? I'm not much for sharing my man, you know." She ran her finger along the side of his cheek.

Vegeta gave her an exasperated look and swatted her finger away. What she was doing tickled. "Yes, that is what I mean. So there will be no more of this weeping and playing to gain sympathy, am I understood?"

Bulma's mouth worked silently for a moment, but then she dropped his eyes and rested back down against him.

Vegeta sighed. It seemed that he would have to once again give a little more than he was comfortable doing to please this woman. He sat up against the headboard, pulling her upright beside him. He took her by the arms and shifted her to look at him. "Bulma... You have to understand something. This is the only way I know how to explain it to you."

She looked at him and nodded. "Okay. What is it?"

He thought for a moment before speaking. "I am the Prince of Saiyans, and according to my culture you are an alien. It was unheard of for royalty to take an alien mate, or even a Saiyan mate who was not of noble blood. I would have been disgraced and ostracized by my people for what I have just done. I would have been stripped of my rank and title and would have lost all right to claim my throne. I know these things no longer exist, but..." He sighed and looked away.

Realization of what he was saying sunk in and hit Bulma hard. "But, it's your culture and it's important to you. It's what you have left, and you... you gave it up for me." Fresh tears filled her eyes. "Oh, Vegeta... I had no idea," she whispered. She took his hand and held it to her chest. "You can't possibly know what this means to me. I'm honored that of all the women in the universe, you would choose me." His intended meaning aside, how difficult it must have been for him to tell her what he had.

Vegeta looked back over to her. She was crying again, but her eyes shone with absolute affection and devotion. He knew he would need to chastise her no further. He sighed again, a lopsided half smile of resignation on his face. "Don't cry anymore, Woman," he muttered, reaching up to wipe a tear from her cheek. "I have found you to be a favorable woman. You are my mate. There is no more need for tears."

Bulma snuggled up to him and rested her hand on his chest, her fingers rubbing little circles on it absently. "This really does mean a lot to me, Vegeta," she whispered. "All I ever wanted was someone who cared about me, who wanted to be with me, who was devoted to me. You've given me that. Thank you." She looked up at him again and smiled.

He grunted in response and pushed her head back down against his chest, as close to saying 'you're welcome' as she figured she would get. She was ecstatic- the man she found herself falling very much in love with had just told her that she was wanted and desired. Maybe he hadn't spoken the words, but the proud and reserved man's actions were enough.

"Vegeta?"

"Hn?"

"Kiss me." She slid onto his lap.

His eyebrow rose. "I thought you were adequately satisfied," he told her in an amused voice.

"Never," she purred, kissing him. "Now give me what I want before I take it forcibly." She turned in his lap so that she was facing him.

Vegeta's chuckle rumbled deep in his throat. "It sounds to me like you want more than just a kiss, Woman." He indulged her with a kiss.

"You read my mind," Bulma told him, giggling when he rolled his eyes. "Ooh! Since you're a prince and we're mates, does that make me a princess?"

Her blue eyes teased him, but there was a tone of seriousness to her question. She honestly wanted to know. "You act enough like a spoiled child. Do I need to give you more leave to do so?" Vegeta teased back.

"Vegeta! C'mon, I really want to know!" Bulma bounced on his lap and giggled again when he growled in response. It was wonderful when he was this laid back and playful.

"Technically, yes. Although I have not officially bestowed the title upon you." Vegeta began to laugh when she scowled. "Woman, you are so easy to bait."

"Hmph," came her response, quite reminiscent of his. "Just give it to me. You need something else to call me besides 'Woman', you know."

"I don't hear you calling me by my title, Woman." Hmmm. Goading his blue-haired mate was even more amusing now that she belonged to him.

"Oh, forgive me, my Lord," Bulma responded dryly.

"That's better," he told her.

"Don't get used to it, buddy-" Bulma's tirade was cut off before it could begin by his finger over her lips.

"Hush now, Bulma. That is no way for Her Highness the Princess of Saiyans to behave, now is it?" Vegeta smirked at her expression.

She smiled and wrapped her arms around his neck.

***

"Fried chicken is awesome," Bulma mumbled around bites.

Her parents exchanged a look. It was rare that she was so hungry, but of late she had been really packing it away. "I'm glad you like it, dear," Mrs. Briefs responded weakly.

Bulma tossed the bone from her fifth drumstick down onto her plate. "I can't believe how hungry I am."

"It's probably because you didn't eat breakfast," Dr. Briefs supplied. "Didn't you say you had an upset stomach?"

Bulma grabbed the bread basket and took another roll. "I'll bet you're right, Daddy." She'd actually been sick again that morning from her flu, but didn't want to worry her parents by telling them that. "Want another one, Vegeta?" She leaned across the table to hand him the basket when he nodded.

"Dear, what happened to your neck? You're bleeding," Mrs. Briefs exclaimed.

~How do I explain to my parents that Vegeta bit me? They're going to think he's abusing me!~ Bulma's mind raced wildly. She felt the bite mark; it was indeed bleeding. ~I must have scratched it again without thinking.~ "I, uhm..."

"It is a bite mark."

Both elder Briefs turned their attention to Vegeta, who had a forkful of potato salad in one hand and the roll in the other. "A what, dear?" Mrs. Briefs asked.

"A bite mark, Mom-"

"You... you bit my daughter?" Dr. Briefs sputtered.

Vegeta didn't know if he should be annoyed by these humans' condemnation of what they evidently found to be horrific behavior or amused by their shock. "I have found your daughter to be a satisfactory woman and have therefore claimed her as my mate," he informed the stunned doctor. "Saiyans mark their mates with a visible indication that cannot be removed. A bite fittingly suits this purpose and also serves to seal their bond by blood-"

"You bit my daughter!" Dr. Briefs shouted, interrupting Vegeta's explanation. He dropped his fork and leapt up from his seat. "What the hell, man?"

~Oh, boy...~ Knowing that Vegeta would take her father's actions as both disrespectful and as a challenge to his claim, Bulma quickly moved to intervene. "Daddy, you don't understand-"

"The man bit you, Bulma!" Dr. Briefs howled. "Doesn't that bother you in the slightest?"

"No, it doesn't! In fact, I wanted him to do it!" Bulma shouted back, startling him. She too jumped up from her seat; her mate seemed seconds from doing so himself, if the angry and insulted expression on his face was any indication. "Daddy, you are being completely offensive to Vegeta and his culture! He was explaining what this means," she continued, indicating the scar on her neck, "when you interrupted him as if what he had to say didn't even matter! What the hell, indeed!"

Dr. Briefs opened his mouth, then closed it. "You're right, Bulma. I apologize to both of you." He sat back down slowly, looking rather bashful as he did so.

Vegeta's scowl only widened and he got up from the table. "Whatever. I don't need to put up with this," he snapped angrily.

"Vegeta, please," Bulma pleaded, taking his arm. "Please finish your dinner. I promise it'll be okay," she whispered.

Vegeta could feel her parents' eyes on him and felt decidedly uncomfortable by the situation. "I am finished," he informed her, turning away from her so he wouldn't have to see the large blue eyes so easily able to persuade him filling with tears. "I will be training." He removed her hands from his arm and sat her down in her chair. "You are too tired and irritable. Eat your food." With that he left the kitchen.

Bulma's tears turned to anger and she crossed her arms. "Thanks a lot, Daddy," she snapped. "You know how proud he is of his culture, and now it's gone. You trashed what little shards of it he had left!"

"I said I was sorry, Pumpkin," Dr. Briefs told her wearily.

"Tell us about your bite mark, dear," Mrs. Briefs interjected in an attempt to soothe the hurt feelings at the table. "Maybe it can help us understand better."

~Good old Mom.~ "Well, he mentioned that Saiyans mark each other when they become mates," Bulma began. Her parents nodded. "You have to understand how difficult of a decision it was for him. He told me afterwards that he would have been disgraced by his people and stripped of his rank as Prince of Saiyans had he taken a mate that wasn't nobility, let alone of an alien race. His title is all he has left, even if the only Saiyans left are just him and Gohan. He's proud of being the prince. But he put his pride aside because he wanted me for his mate. Me, of all the women in the universe. He even said that makes me a princess now." She sniffled and gave them a wobbly smile as she dabbed at the tears that were beginning to spill from her eyes. "I know in my heart that he wouldn't have done what he did if he didn't care about me."

"Sweetheart, that's wonderful," Mrs. Briefs exclaimed, dabbing away tears of her own. "How romantic." She got up and gave her daughter a hug and kiss. "I'm so happy for you, dear."

"I see," Dr. Briefs finally spoke up. "I can't say I'm thrilled about him biting you, but I understand now why he did it."

"Okay." Bulma sniffled again and nodded.

"I have to ask, Pumpkin... Did you bite Vegeta as well?"

Bulma blushed. "Well, uhm, yes. In fact, although he'd probably never admit it, I actually bit him first. It was accidental, but he didn't seem to mind." Her blush deepened.

The corner of Dr. Briefs' lips quirked up in a smile and he let out a little chuckle. "Good for you, then."

Bulma came over to her father and gave him a hug and kiss as well. "Thank you, Daddy. I love you."

"I love you too, Pumpkin. I just want you to be happy," he responded gently.

"I am happy, Daddy. All I ever wanted was someone willing to devote himself to me and accept my devotion back. He's given me that, and at great cost to himself." Bulma hugged him tighter.

"Then I'm happy for you too, Bulma."

***

Dr. Briefs couldn't help but feel apprehensive as he approached the GR. Gathering his wits about himself, he knocked on the door before he could change his mind.

A few seconds later the rumbling of ki deflecting against the walls inside halted, followed by the red lights shining out through the small round windows. The door opened to reveal Vegeta standing cross-armed and staring down at him expressionlessly. "What is it, old man?" he asked in a voice that sounded more upset, or possibly even distressed, than angry.

"May I come in?" Dr. Briefs stepped past the Saiyan prince before he could respond either way and made his way over to the control panel. "The missus tells me that you say the room is working well but could use a few modifications." He popped open a capsule, which contained a box of tools and some papers.

Vegeta found himself surprised but hid it. "I did not tell her what I require," he informed the doctor, who had begun running some diagnostics on the system.

"Oh, I figure I know what you'd ask for. Sorry to interrupt your training, but I'm glad to catch you while you're using the room, so I can run some tests while the computer is still active." Dr. Briefs pulled some tools out of the box and removed one of the outer control panels.

Vegeta watched as the older man replaced a small circuit board, replaced the sub-panel, and re-ran the test he'd performed. "What are you doing?"

"Ah, good. This should work just fine." Dr. Briefs packed up his tools. "I upgraded some of the circuitry to handle a higher level of power. You can now go up from 150 Gs to 350. Technically, this circuitry isn't ready to be integrated yet, so try to be careful about your energy blasts since I'll need to upgrade the room's inner shell to compensate for the higher gravity levels. Until then, perhaps you could try some strength training at higher Gs and let me know how it goes."

Vegeta found himself speechless and nodded. It seemed that perhaps the old man was giving him an upgrade, even though it wasn't quite ready, as a peace offering.

"All right, then." Dr. Briefs encapsulated the toolbox and stuck the capsule into his pocket. "By the way, Vegeta, please understand that I was only concerned for Bulma's well being. I never meant to belittle you or your culture. I simply didn't understand because that sort of thing isn't done in our culture and is viewed as extreme behavior. Rather than allow you to explain I overreacted, and I apologize. Bulma explained everything to me, and I understand now."

A peace offering it was. Vegeta pursed his lips and looked at the older man. "I see."

Dr. Briefs absently found it a little strange that he himself had said the same thing. "Vegeta," he began slowly, "if you and Bulma do indeed plan on remaining a couple, I think it would be nice to get to know you a little better. It would help me to be more understanding of you." Fearing a negative response from the private man, before Vegeta could reply Dr. Briefs handed him the papers that had been in the capsule. "Here, take these. When you get a moment, please look them over. I'd like your feedback to make the design even better."

Vegeta watched his mate's father leave. He didn't know what to figure of the old man, either. The woman's entire family was an enigma to him! He sighed, having lost his training stamina, and headed for the small living area in the back of the capsule. He flopped down onto the bed and unfolded the papers he'd been given, wondering what fool idea the old man wanted him to… look at… Was this what he thought it was?

His eyes widened.

This was what he wanted! This would help him train even better and harder than fighting an imaginary opponent ever could. He folded up the blueprints and shut down the GR before flying up to his and Bulma's bedroom balcony.

***

There was a light rapping at the window. Bulma put down her book and got up from the bed. It could only be one person, and she was rather surprised to see him come in so soon. "Hey," she said softly as she unlocked the window and let him in. "Sorry about that. I wasn't expecting you back in yet."

He grunted in response and kicked his shoes off to the side, then promptly settled onto the bed.

Bulma couldn't help but wrinkle up her nose. "Vegeta, I just changed the sheets today, and you're all smelly and sweaty-"

"Shhh. Hush now, Woman." The soft, distracted tone to his voice confused her, given the agitated state he'd been in earlier.

She watched as Vegeta leaned over to her side of the bed and grabbed a pen off of her nightstand, then proceeded to sit back against the headboard. He unfolded a wad of papers and began poring over them, occasionally writing on the papers.

"What have you got there?" Bulma couldn't help but ask. She hid her smile as she noticed him absorbed enough by what he was doing that he didn't realize that he was absently chewing on the end of the pen he was using.

"Blueprints for automated training bots your father gave me," Vegeta mumbled. "Yes, I think that these will be fine…"

She managed to curb her smile once more; evidently her father- not the 'old man'- had held out the proverbial olive branch to Vegeta, who'd bitten the bait hook, line and sinker. "Are you okay?" she asked, going into the bathroom for the first aid kit.

"Hn?" Vegeta looked up from his papers at her and, realizing that he had been nibbling at the end of his pen, hastily pulled it from his mouth.

Bulma came back into the room and sat down beside him. "Are you okay?" she repeated, dabbing a little antiseptic on a cotton ball and swiping it over a cut on his arm.

"Of course. Why wouldn't I be?" Vegeta scowled at her attempts to clean him up and tried to move away. "Must you persist upon smearing that foul-smelling concoction on me every time I train?"

"First off, you're the one who's foul-smelling. Secondly, you're bleeding all over my pillowcase. And third, I wasn't asking about your training injuries." Bulma scooted closer again and reapplied the antiseptic.

His dark eyes looked up from the blueprints to meet her blue ones.

She nibbled at her lip. "Daddy didn't mean anything bad, Vegeta. Really."

"I know that, Woman. Obviously we spoke if he gave me these." Vegeta put the papers on the bed and dropped the unfortunate pen on top of them. "I am fine."

She smiled and took his hand, pulling him off of the bed and surprised that he let her do so. "I'm glad. Now go take a shower and come to bed," she coaxed softly. "I'll be waiting for you, my Prince."

***

Bulma woke up the next morning as Vegeta slid out of the bed. She reached out and grabbed his wrist before he could get too far away. "Hey, Prince Charming. Come back to bed for a while," she said, a hint of suggestion in her voice.

"Why, so we can cuddle, Woman?" Vegeta asked sarcastically.

"Well, now that you mention it, that does sound nice," Bulma admitted.

He scowled and removed his hand from her grasp. He had engaged in enough of the ridiculous activity the day before. "Nice, hmph. I'm going to train, Woman."

"But..." Bulma watched him pull on his clothes and leave through the window without so much as a grunt goodbye, regretting for not the first time that she'd built that stupid gravity room for him. How quickly his attitude could revert back to how it was earlier yesterday in just a few hours' time. She sighed and pulled her knees up to her chest, nibbling at her lower lip nervously, her mind rapidly moving to what just might be a more important issue at that moment. She had almost forgotten about it in her excitement yesterday.

She hadn't been feeling well for several days now and didn't feel well that morning either. Somehow she just knew that she was going to be sick again. Before it could well and truly hit her, she hauled herself out of bed and headed for her bathroom.

It was a good thing she did, for the nausea hit her so quickly that she almost didn't make it there on time. She fell to her knees and retched into the toilet violently.

"Please, Kami... Just let this be something I ate," she pleaded in a tiny voice, but she had a sinking suspicion that it was more than that. She'd hardly been outside of the house lately and had eaten everything that everyone else had.

No one else was sick.

She was extremely tired and fatigued, despite getting more than adequate sleep.

No one else was tired and fatigued.

She was ravenous at times, eating anything and everything that wasn't crawling away- including some truly weird combinations of foods- and hadn't taken part in any out of the ordinary activities that required more food to sustain the amount of energy than she normally expended.

No one else was ravenous. Well, except for Vegeta, of course, but that was typical for your normal, healthy Saiyan male appetite.

Vegeta...

Bulma sighed again. It couldn't be anything else. Vegeta had been regularly indulging himself with her body ever since he arrived at her home. Not that she minded- she did find him to be absolutely incredible in bed.

Add to all of that the biggest clue- her period was late. Her cycle wasn't like clockwork, but it was pretty regular.

Not this month.

The nausea having subsided for the moment, Bulma hauled herself up from the floor and staggered over to the sink to rid herself of the terrible taste in her mouth. "It'll be okay, Bulma. No matter what, you've always wanted to be a mom, right?" she asked her reflection.

~Yes, but the father doesn't want to be a father,~ her mind reminded her.

"If I'm... I'll deal with it," Bulma told herself. "No problem. I don't need a man to raise a child." So much for being excited over Vegeta wanting her for his mate. She placed her toothbrush in the cup next to the sink and wiped her face with a towel.

She made her way back over to the bed and sat down heavily. What to do? Someone would most certainly recognize her and blab to the media if she went to a pharmacy and bought a pregnancy test. It was inevitable. Everyone would know within hours that Bulma Briefs, heiress of the illustrious Capsule Corporation, was pregnant. It wouldn't matter whether the test came up positive or not. Just the fact that she'd simply bought a test would be enough to start the rumors flying.

Bulma grabbed her purse and pulled out her cell phone, then scrolled through her contact list. There was only one person she could trust about this right now, professional or not. Chi-Chi would freak out and ask her what the hell was she thinking sleeping with a psychotic mass murderer like Vegeta, and her mother would start doing a happy dance, go congratulate the 'happy father'- yikes!- and start making baby shower plans now that she was getting the grandchild she kept hinting about. No, Natsue had been her friend since college and would simply listen if that was what she needed.

She pressed the call button, feeling the butterflies having a heyday in her stomach. "Hello, Natsue? It's Bulma. Yeah, it's been a while, hasn't it? Listen, I'm really sorry to bother you at home this early in the morning, but I need to ask a huge favor of you."

***

"I'm meeting a friend for lunch Mom," Bulma told her mother as she collected her keys. "Don't wait around for me."

"Okay, dear. Have fun," Mrs. Briefs responded.

"Thanks." Bulma popped her capsule car and got inside. "Yeah, tons of fun," she murmured as she pulled out of the driveway. She sighed. "I've got to stop expecting the worst before I even know whether or not I'm..." For some reason, she still couldn't bring herself to say the word 'pregnant'.

She drove in silence the rest of the way until she reached the restaurant. She spotted what she was pretty certain was Natsue's vehicle and parked a few spaces down from it, then went inside.

"Bulma!"

Bulma turned toward the sound of the voice calling her and smiled when she saw her friend at a table. She rushed over and gave her a hug. "Oh, it's been too long!"

"I know," Natsue agreed. She pulled back and eyed her friend speculatively. "We need to get together for old time's sake and not like this, you know."

"I know," Bulma told her sheepishly. "I'm sorry."

"Hey, you're Bulma Briefs. I understand," Natsue said as they sat down.

"That doesn't mean I have to neglect my friends," Bulma pointed out.

"It's okay, B. Honestly." Natsue patted her friend's hand, then paused and looked at her a little more closely. "Are you okay?"

Bulma closed her eyes. A waitress had passed them with another table's order, and the smell of something on that tray of food did not appeal to her at the moment. "No," she whispered. "I think I'm going to toss my cookies, actually."

Natsue lost no time in flagging down the nearest waitress. "I'm really sorry, but something came up and we can't stay. Could we get two of the lunch special to go please?"

"Sure, no problem!" the woman assured her cheerfully.

Natsue laid a hand on Bulma's arm. "It's okay, honey. Don't work yourself up. Deep breath." She held out a glass of water. "Here, take a sip of water."

Bulma accepted the water and took a sip. "Thanks, Natsue. For everything."

Natsue smiled. "Hey, friends in need, you know."

Bulma couldn't hold back a chuckle. "Yeah, I believe the expression is 'a friend in need is a pain in the butt', isn't it?" she quipped.

"Yeah, when it comes to you," Natsue teased back. "Hey, c'mon. You've always been there for me when I needed you the most," she said softly. "Besides, this is my profession. I look forward to treating you if you actually are-" She clammed up when the waitress approached.

"I forgot to ask you if you wanted white, brown or fried rice with your meals," she explained.

"I'll have fried, and she'll have brown," Natsue offered before Bulma could get a word in edgewise.

"What was that all about?" Bulma asked indignantly after the woman was out of earshot. "You know I'm going to fight you for that fried rice."

"No, you're not. Brown is healthier and has more fiber, if you get my meaning," Natsue insisted stubbornly. She leaned forward. "Doctor's orders."

***

Bulma picked at the band aid on the inside of her elbow and watched the second hand of the clock on the wall as the seconds ticked by. The door to Natsue's private office opened and Bulma sat up straight in her chair as the other woman came back in.

"I have results for both the blood and urine tests," Natsue informed her. She sat down beside Bulma.

"Well?" Bulma asked nervously.

Natsue took her friend's hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. "Congratulations. You're going to be a mommy," she said softly.

Bulma couldn't speak. All she could think was...

"Bulma?"

Natsue's voice snapped Bulma back to reality. "I'm really pregnant?"

Natsue nodded. "Yes. You're really pregnant."

Bulma blinked, more shocked by the confirmation of her suspicions than she thought she'd be. This was real. She looked at Natsue with wide, stunned eyes. "I'm pregnant. Oh, boy..."

"Are you okay, Bulma? I-"

Natsue didn't get to finish whatever she was about to say because Bulma suddenly squealed with delight and threw her arms around her friend, hugging her tightly. "I'm pregnant!" she shrieked excitedly.

Natsue smiled and hugged Bulma back, relieved that she was all right with the news of her pregnancy. She chuckled. "I'm glad you're happy about it."

Bulma nodded and began to giggle uncontrollably. "I can't believe it... I'm going to be a mother," she said, her eyes shining with unshed tears of joy. "I've always wanted to be a mother."

"I know," Natsue agreed. "I'm happy for you, Bulma."

"Thanks." Bulma pushed the thought of how she was going to tell Vegeta to the back of her mind in favor of being excited over her childhood dream becoming reality. She sat back in her seat. "Do we still have time for lunch?"

Natsue glanced up at the clock on the wall. "Sure. I still have almost half an hour before I see my next patient."

"Good deal. Let's dig in." Bulma pulled the capsule containing their lunch out of her purse and popped it open. "So, what do I need to do? Aren't I supposed to take a prenatal vitamin or something like that?"

Natsue opened her almond chicken and fried rice. "Yes. I'll write you a prescription and have it filled at a pharmacy where they can send it to you in the mail so you don't have to go pick it up and risk the press. We need to figure your due date, too."

Bulma nodded. Picking up prenatal vitamins would have been almost as news worthy as the pregnancy test, if one of the pharmacy techs decided to leak the contents of the prescription. "Thanks."

***

Mrs. Briefs was in the kitchen preparing dinner when Bulma returned. "Hello there, dear. Did you have a nice lunch?"

"Yes, thanks. I met Natsue Yamamoto. She says hi, by the way." Bulma grabbed a carton of juice from the fridge and poured herself a glass.

"Oh, I haven't seen Natsue in ages," Mrs. Briefs exclaimed. "How is she?"

"She's great. Her practice is doing well, too." Bulma selected a banana from the fruit bowl and sat down to eat it.

"That's nice." Mrs. Briefs turned back to the stove. "Don't spoil your dinner. It's almost ready."

"Oh, don't worry. I'm pretty hungry," Bulma assured her. "By the way, have you seen Vegeta?"

"No, not since lunch. I think he's still in that training room you set up for him. Why don't you go call him for dinner?" Mrs. Briefs suggested.

Before Bulma could respond, the topic of their conversation strolled into the kitchen. Vegeta was wearing spandex bicycle shorts and sneakers, and had a towel draped around his neck. Sweat glistened on his skin and he was slightly flushed from the exertion of his workout.

Bulma licked her lips unconsciously, openly admiring his toned body and struggling to keep her thoughts chaste. He looked good enough to eat.

Vegeta opened the refrigerator and removed a bottle of water. "Do I have time to shower before dinner?" he asked, drinking the entire bottle in one long series of gulps.

"Yes, if you can make it quick," Mrs. Briefs told him.

"Good." Vegeta left the kitchen. Bulma was about to follow him to talk to him since he appeared to be in a pretty good mood, but stopped when her mother suddenly spoke.

"Bulma, would you mind setting the table for me please?"

Bulma held in a sigh. It was just as well. If Vegeta didn't take the news that he was a father well, at least he'd be able to enjoy his dinner.

***

Bulma woke up feeling queasy, which she was unfortunately coming to expect. Vegeta's side of the bed was empty, and she could tell that he hadn't even come in last night. He'd gone back out to the GR as soon as dinner was over without saying hardly a word to her, let alone giving her the chance to talk to him.

"I swear I'm going to disable that stupid machine," she grumbled to herself sourly. "He's obsessed with it." She padded into the bathroom and, when it seemed that perhaps she wouldn't actually get sick after all, took a nice hot shower.

No one was in the kitchen when she arrived there, and she belatedly remembered that her father had a business breakfast that her mother had planned on attending with him. "I guess breakfast's up to me, then," she murmured to herself. "Pancakes sound good."

Bulma dug out the big bag of pancake mix and began to make batter. Deciding that some vanilla might be nice, she grabbed the bottle from the cupboard and opened it to pour a little in.

Her stomach lurched as the usually pleasing scent of the vanilla hit her nose and she quickly set it down and ran for the nearest bathroom.

***

Vegeta entered the house through the kitchen and made a beeline to the refrigerator. He shoved a few items aside and settled for a carton of milk he spotted on the top shelf. He sniffed it- having learned the hard way through unfortunate experience that yes, milk does go sour- and, deeming it acceptable, began to gulp it straight from the carton.

His eyebrow rose when he saw the bowl of pancake batter and package of breakfast meat on the counter, and he lowered the carton. Where had the woman's mother gone to? For that matter, the woman herself could be preparing his food, seeing as she was his mate, so why had she left it to sit there and spoil? Neither woman was preparing his breakfast, and he was justifiably hungry after completing his early morning katas. Growling in frustration, he raised the carton to take another drink when he heard a moan from somewhere down the hall.

Vegeta made his way down the hallway to find the bathroom door partway open and the light on. He peered inside and saw Bulma hunched over the toilet. ~Stupid woman. What did she eat this time to make herself sick?~ He leaned up against the door jamb casually.

Bulma hadn't noticed his arrival. ~I hope this goes away, because if it doesn't, I'm never going to get through eight more months of this.~ She groaned and clung to the sides of the toilet bowl. Her stomach lurched, and she retched into the toilet again. Not caring about the cleanliness of the porcelain, she collapsed against the top of the bowl, her head resting atop one arm, gasping for breath. "Ohhh, Kami, I'm gonna die," she moaned, pushing herself up slightly and reaching up to flush the toilet.

"I see you're good friends with the porcelain this morning. Had a fun night partying, huh?" an amused voice asked from behind her.

Bulma turned and looked up to glare at the individual responsible for her current state of health. "No, drunk is more fun," she groaned. Her body lurched suddenly and she hurriedly clapped her hand over her mouth. "Kami make it stop!" she wailed as she turned back around to face the toilet again before dry heaving above it. "Any other smart aleck remarks you'd care to make?" she asked wearily, sitting down heavily on the floor.

Vegeta shrugged and took another gulp from the carton of milk. "I dunno. How about 'you look like crap'. Is that a good one?" He grinned at the expression on her face.

Bulma scowled at him. "You're a real son of a bitch sometimes, you know." Exhausted, she leaned back against the wall and closed her eyes.

"Flattery will get you nowhere, you know," Vegeta responded, "but I'd prefer that you leave my mother out of this. She truly was an extraordinary woman."

"Okay, whatever. Sorry to have insulted the memory of your mother," she mumbled, cupping her hands over her face and rubbing them up and over her forehead. She sighed wearily. "Would you get me a glass of water, please?"

"What am I, your personal servant?" Vegeta objected.

"No, but you could try to be a little chivalrous once in a while. After all, this is your fault." She opened her eyes and peered up at him crossly.

Vegeta frowned. "What are you talking about, Woman? How the hell is you being sick my fault?" he demanded. "You're crazy."

~Here goes nothing.~ "No, I'm not crazy. I'm pregnant," Bulma replied casually.

He blinked. "W-what?"

Bulma sighed for the millionth time. "Come now, Vegeta. You're an educated man, aren't you?" She raised an eyebrow. "You do know how babies are made, don't you?"

"Of course I know how babies are made, you foolish woman!" Vegeta shouted, recovering from his surprise. "But I don't see what this has to do with me. I have been using those round things to prevent conception that you insisted upon." He crossed his arms and glared at her.

"I beg your pardon! Just what kind of trashy woman do you take me for?" Bulma objected angrily, getting to her feet. "We weren't exactly playing Monopoly while we were on Namek, Vegeta, and we didn't have a condom then. Mate or no mate, I don't sleep around, got it? There've been no other men around here besides you and Dad, and I've been so busy here with the Nameks and and your GR and everything else that I've hardly left the grounds, so it couldn't be someone else's. You got me pregnant, Vegeta, plain and simple. That's what this has to do with you." She crossed her arms, mimicking his stance.

Vegeta opened his mouth to object that he couldn't be this baby's father but stopped when he realized that she had pretty much covered all of his available lines of reasoning, with the exception of one little lifeline. "What about the pizza delivery guy? You're awfully friendly with him."

Bulma rolled her eyes. "Oh, for heaven's sake, Vegeta! He's a sixteen year old kid! That's just sick." She pursed her lips. "Look... I'm not asking you to jump for joy about this. I just... we created a life together," she said in a soft voice. "Please, at least acknowledge the child, Vegeta. You can tell, can't you?" He drew back when she reached for his hands, but she put the milk on the counter next to the sink and took hold of them, placing them over her belly and covering them with her own. "Can you?"

He sighed deeply and concentrated for a moment. "Yes," he admitted. "The ki is distinctly... Saiyan." He looked away, unwilling to meet her eyes.

Bulma found herself feeling sympathy toward the confused and bewildered prince. She held one of his hands in her much smaller ones. "I can see how you would feel shocked about this, Vegeta," she began softly. "I don't blame you one bit for your reaction. I mean, I was pretty stunned about it myself when I found out." She squeezed his hand gently. "Just take some time to think about it, okay?"

When he didn't respond she bit her lip, readying herself for a bad reaction to her next question. "You don't have to say anything right now, but I need to know what your intentions are."

At that, he did look at her. "What do you mean, my intentions?"

"I mean, what are you going to do now?" she asked nervously. "I want you to be a part of this little boy or girl's life-"

"The brat's ki is male," Vegeta interrupted.

Bulma smiled at him. "See? You'll have an heir. And who better to teach him about his culture and heritage and lineage, than you? Who could train him better?"

He looked at her with an unreadable expression on his face. Bulma wasn't sure what to think of it. "I think these sorts of things are important, especially since he will be one of the last of the Saiyan race. Don't you?" She let go of his hand and slid her arms around his waist, resting her head against his chest. She found it a little disconcerting when he just stood there, not even making any effort to prevent her or shrug her off.

"Hold me, Vegeta," she whispered. "Please."

He looked down at the soft blue eyes imploring him and sighed. ~Damn it. How did I become so weak?~ he berated himself as he found his arms wrapping around her.

She pulled closer to him, moving to rest her head against his shoulder. He was keenly aware of her enticing body pressed against his own. Her hair smelled sweet and felt silky against his bare shoulder. Her soft lips brushed against the side of his neck. He fought against the warmth he felt growing within his body. Why should a weak human female evoke such feelings in him? ~I do not have such pathetic human emotions,~ he reminded himself firmly. ~She cannot affect me in that way.~

"Vegeta?" her voice interrupted his thoughts.

"Hm?"

"Is it safe to assume that you're all right with all of this?" she inquired in a low voice.

"What do you mean, Woman?" he asked. "I haven't said anything yet about it."

"You must have been pretty lost in thought there," she murmured, nudging up against him deliberately, "if you didn't notice the fact that you have a huge erection."

His brows raised momentarily in surprise. She wasn't kidding around with her adjectives. He tensed and let out a grunt as she ground herself up against him and his arms tightened around her. "Woman..."

Her eyebrow went up and she smiled. "Would you like me to end your misery and take you upstairs?" she asked seductively, looking up at him through her lashes. ~This is fun! I actually have the Prince of Saiyans in the palm of my hand.~ She giggled. ~Well, not quite yet, but soon.~

"I thought I was a real son of a bitch," he groaned between clenched teeth as she continued to wriggle her hips against him.

"That may well be," she purred, her hands running down his back to grab his butt. "But I still have needs." She squeezed firmly.

He nearly jumped out of his skin and grabbed her about the waist, tossing her over his shoulder. Before she even knew what had happened he was halfway to the stairs. ~So much for not letting this woman affect But at the same time, his mind was so fixated on the carnal activities he was anticipating that he just didn't care.

Bulma felt her stomach lurch. "Vegeta, stop," she requested. When he didn't, she tried again. "Vegeta... Vegeta! Would you hold on a minute?" she shouted, squirming in his arms.

He stopped halfway up the stairs. "What are you yelling in my ear for, Woman?" he growled. "What's your problem?"

"I don't like being carried like this. I find it demeaning," she informed him firmly. "If you want to carry me, I'm fine with that and even think it can be pretty romantic at times, but not over your shoulder. And if I stay this way much longer, I'm gonna puke all over-"

She was back on her feet before she could even finish her sentence.

"Go, Woman," he urged her on, herding her the rest of the way up the stairs.

They hadn't even made it to their bedroom when Vegeta pushed her against the wall in the hallway and began nuzzling her neck, growling deep in his throat. He ground his hips against hers and his hands were roving madly everywhere. She moaned in encouragement, encircling her arms around his neck, holding him close.

Now that the initial shock was over, he was taking this much better than she'd expected.

"Yecch!" Vegeta pulled back, a disgusted look on his face. "Ugh! You taste revolting, Woman!"

"Sorry," she said, giggling at the expression on his face. "I was rather ill earlier, as you recall."

"Well, hurry up and gargle some of that green stuff, will you?" he demanded. "You got me all bothered, and I'm going to have you, Woman." He shut the bedroom door behind them.

"Don't you go getting all mean and pushy with me, Prince of all Grumpy Saiyans," she retorted, going into her private bathroom and getting out some mouthwash. "You'll get your jollies, never fear." She poured some of the mouthwash into a glass and sipped it into her mouth, eyeing his reaction as she made quite a show out of swishing it, exaggerating the sucking motion her mouth made.

"That's enough, now hurry up and spit it out," Vegeta demanded impatiently. "I want to screw already!" He recalled thinking how stupid the Earth expression was the first time he'd heard it, but had determined that it had something to do with mating. It would suffice for now.

"Pushy," Bulma interrupted as she exited the bathroom, smiling coyly at him. "You were saying?"

He all but tore her clothes off, flinging them carelessly away. Still growling, he yanked off his own tank top and shorts and tossed her down onto the bed, climbing on top of her and pushing her legs apart with his knees.

"Hold your horses, not so fast there, cowboy," Bulma instructed, pushing him back.

Vegeta found his patience fading fast. "What the hell is the problem now, Woman?" he exclaimed, his voice coming out halfway between a shout and a wail.

"Nothing," she replied casually, "other than the fact that I intend to be the one in control this morning." She surprised him by suddenly turning them both over so that she sat atop him. "You're not going to argue about it, either... are you?"

***

He lay staring wide-eyed at the ceiling, his brain temporarily disconnected from conscious thought.

"Vegeta?"

He made a little grunt in response.

She grinned and leaned over to smirk down at him. "I take it that you enjoyed your little physical therapy session with Dr. Bulma Briefs, hmm?"

His head turned slightly and his eyes focused on her. "Wha- what the hell did you do to me, Woman?" he asked incredulously.

Bulma rolled her eyes dramatically. "I guess I'll have to retract the 'educated man' assumption I made earlier," she teased, leaning down to kiss him.

He grabbed her shoulders, holding her still. "Do it again."

So she did.

***

"Hurry up with my food, Woman," Vegeta demanded impatiently. "I'm hungry."

"Well, I'm hungry too," Bulma retorted. She poured some batter into the pans on the stove. "If I'm not nauseous, I'm hungry. It's very annoying."

Vegeta shrugged. "What do you want me to do about it?"

"You could try being a little more empathetic. I can hardly stand the smell of this batter right now," Bulma informed him. She gave him an indignant look over her shoulder. "I hope I'm not sick the entire pregnancy."

Vegeta let out a loud huff and crossed his arms. "What do you want from me, Woman? I cannot change the fact that pregnant females become ill," he retorted irritably.

Bulma turned to him. His words made her think that if he could do something for her, perhaps he would. On the other hand, he might just be being insensitive. She decided to go with the former. "You can be here with me. I don't mean all day or anything, or that you shouldn't train. I think it's important that you reach your goal of Super Saiyan too, and I'll be very proud of you when you do." He looked surprised by her words, and she took advantage of it by wrapping her arms around his neck and holding him close. "I just wouldn't mind a little bit of time with you now and then. I wasn't lying when I said I miss you, even if you are grumpy."

Vegeta scowled but didn't pull away. Her fingers were rubbing the back of his head at the base of his neck and it felt good. His eyes closed and, without realizing he'd done so, he sighed.

~Gods, I love this man. Why can't I help him enjoy life, especially now that we're going to have a baby?~ Bulma mused mentally. ~Well, I suppose I shouldn't complain. He did take the news that I'm pregnant a lot better than I thought he would. I just have to try to be patient with him. He's been through so much.~ She smiled when she felt him relax. Eventually she got him relaxed enough that his forehead rested upon her shoulder.

It didn't last long.

Vegeta lifted his head from her shoulder and wrinkled his nose. "Woman, is my breakfast burning?"

"Oh!" Bulma yelped as she remembered the unfortunate pancakes on the stove. Sure enough, they were burned to the pan on one side and raw on the unturned side. She cursed and yanked the pans from the heat.

"For Kami's sake, Woman! Now what?"

"Now they're burned beyond saving."

"I can see that. And smell that."

"I'm not making any more batter. The smell of it was what sent me to the bathroom when you found me."

"So what am I supposed to eat? You destroyed my food!"

"I'm hungry too, remember?"

"Simple. Hurry up and cook us something."

"Simple? I don't feel like cooking. We can have cereal."

"Cereal?"

"Yes, cereal. There are several boxes in the cupboard."

"I drank the milk, remember? Besides, you cannot seriously expect me, the Prince of all Saiyans, to consume something that comes in a box with a green-clad, frolicking elf on it."

"One: it's a leprechaun, not an elf. Two: come off it. You ate me out of house and home so we don't have many choices. We need to go shopping."

"What's this 'we' nonsense you're spouting, Woman?"

"Is something burning?"

Both participants of the bickering match turned to see her parents standing in the doorway. "Hi Mom, Daddy."

"Yes, the Woman burnt my pancakes," Vegeta tattled irritably, "and she has no intention of preparing any more."

"Oh, my..." Mrs. Briefs giggled, her fingertips over her lips. "Don't worry, dear. I'll make some more for you. Poor Vegeta, you must be so hungry," she cooed.

"Yes, His Grumpiness is famished-"

"You were whining of being hungry, too," Vegeta pointed out. He grinned openly when she turned the irritated expression on her face from her mother to him. He was getting a kick out of bickering with his woman; in fact, it turned him on. She had that sexy flush on her cheeks and that fire in her eyes that he found irresistibly alluring when she was angry.

Bulma huffed and crossed her arms. "Hmph."

"Are you going to behave this way the entire gestational period, Woman?"

"Vegeta-" Bulma interrupted nervously, noting the surprised reaction on the part of both of her parents.

"Because it's extremely irritating to put up with," Vegeta finished. "I hope this is just a phase."

"Gestational period?" Dr. Briefs echoed. "Bulma-"

"You find it irritating?" Bulma forgot about being nervous about her parents finding out and turned on the Saiyan standing smugly beside her. "You're not the one who's constantly tired and already craving weird foods and nauseous every day and-"

Bulma was interrupted by a squeal of delight from her mother, who threw her arms around her. "Are you saying I'm finally going to be a grandmother?" Mrs. Briefs shrieked. "Sweetheart, that's wonderful! I'm so happy for you, dear!" She next rounded on Vegeta before he could escape. "And such a nice, handsome young man for my grandchild's father, too!" She hugged the startled Saiyan tightly. "Congratulations to you both! Oh, I need to make some phone calls..." Her voice trailed off as she rushed out of the kitchen.

It was quiet in the kitchen for a moment. "You're pregnant, Bulma?" Dr. Briefs finally asked.

"Yes. I went to see Natsue yesterday and she confirmed it for me," Bulma responded in a quiet voice.

"I see." The doctor could see the excitement in her eyes. "And you are the father of this child, young man?"

Vegeta shrugged. "The Woman claims it to be so," he informed him.

Bulma hit him on the arm. "We already went over this, you jerk!" she shouted. "Besides, you already confirmed that the baby's ki is Saiyan, and-"

Vegeta put a finger over her lips. "You are so easy to goad, Woman. I accept that it is my brat you carry. Calm yourself."

"Are you happy about this?" Dr. Briefs asked. Both expectant parents looked at him.

"I'm very happy," Bulma whispered, tears filling her eyes.

"Then I'm happy for you too," Dr. Briefs told his daughter.

"Thanks, Daddy," Bulma whispered, giving him a hug.

Dr. Briefs returned the hug gently. He had serious doubts about Vegeta's desire or ability to be a father but decided to allow his daughter to do as she pleased, which included her relationship with Vegeta. He had already upset the two of them when he had interfered earlier, and didn't need to distance himself any further from the man who was now a permanent part of his daughter's life. "As long as you're happy, that's all that matters to me."

"Thanks," she whispered again, pulling back from her father. She sniffled and wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand.

Despite his earlier resolve not to interfere, Dr. Briefs could remain silent no longer. The Saiyan prince had rather casually acknowledged the child Bulma carried as being his, but hadn't said how he felt about her pregnancy. "And what about you, Vegeta? Are you pleased about being a father?"

Vegeta found himself taken aback by the older man's question. It was not what he had expected to be asked at all, and he frowned. "You ask of a private matter," he responded curtly.

Dr. Briefs returned the frown. "I'm not trying to tell you how to run your life, but this is the welfare of my daughter and grandchild we are talking about, young man," he retorted. "I deserve an answer, as does Bulma."

Bulma had been about to object but instead, the force of her father's words caught her by surprise and she turned to face Vegeta. "Vegeta, I don't want to put you on the spot and I respect your need for privacy, but I agree with Daddy. You and I need to talk about this. Why don't we go somewhere else and talk?"

"There is nothing to talk about, Woman," Vegeta growled, crossing his arms stubbornly.

"I'll leave you to it," Dr. Briefs interjected. He turned and left the kitchen, hoping that this man would prove to be of better character than expected. He had seen another, much more agreeable, side of Vegeta, and hoped for his daughter's sake that it wasn't simply a fluke thing.

Bulma waited for the kitchen door to shut. "Vegeta?" she asked in a wavering voice.

"What is it, Woman?" Vegeta responded in a low tone of voice.

Bulma stepped closer to him and placed a hand on his arm. "I... I want to know how you do feel about me being pregnant," she whispered. "You told me that you didn't want me to get pregnant, yet you didn't seem angry when I told you about our baby. You took it a lot better than I expected," she pointed out. "I guess I'm a little confused because I don't know how to respond to that."

"There is nothing to respond to," Vegeta insisted. "You are my mate and you carry my son. I might have expected that it would happen eventually, so I see no point in becoming overly angry about the brat."

Hope rushed through Bulma. "So... You're saying you're all right with this? Are you happy-"

"I am saying that I want you to leave off harassing me about this," Vegeta interrupted tersely. "What is done, is done. The brat exists. Now, have your mother prepare some food. I'm hungry." He turned to leave the kitchen.

Bulma's shoulders fell. "But, I..." There was nothing else to say as she watched the kitchen door shut. She wrapped her arms around herself, struggling desperately not to cry. "Just give him some time to think Bulma," she told herself. "He wasn't angry. He's probably just as confused and nervous as you are. It'll be just fine."

***

Vegeta leaned back against the trunk of the tree he was perched in and sighed. The fact that he was a father was starting to really and truly set in, and he was at a loss as to how to feel about it. He never expected to be a father, not ever. He didn't want to be a father. The children he had seen on this planet were unequivocally brats. He didn't want to be bothered with a brat. The woman would want him to act the role of a human father to it. He didn't mind training the boy when he was old enough, but his mate would probably expect him to participate in a woman's role of raising the brat.

He sighed again. How did the woman expect him to react? She knew he didn't want a brat, and suddenly she tells him that he was a father. When she instantly wanted a response and he didn't have one for her, she became upset. He kicked at a branch forking off of the one he was sitting on, getting a feeling of satisfaction when it splintered off and fell to the ground. It helped get his mind off of the situation.

"Oh, my! I need to be more careful," a female voice exclaimed from below.

Vegeta peered down to see Mrs. Briefs standing beneath the tree and looking rather shaken. He had been so lost in thought that he hadn't sensed her approach and had nearly flattened her with the tree branch. He actually felt a slight twinge of remorse; the woman could be an annoyance at times, but he would never intentionally harm her. Besides, she was going to feed him. That wouldn't happen if he hurt her. "I wasn't aware that you were there," he told her in a level voice.

"Oh, it's all right, dear," Mrs. Briefs assured him. "I could see you were thinking and figured you probably just didn't see me." She paused, seemingly to change her mind about what she was about to say. "Did you have a preference of what kind of pancakes you want?"

Vegeta looked down at her. She had a slightly pleading expression on her face, and he realized that she was trying not to anger him by speaking about the child despite having been so excited at the prospect of being a grandmother. "No," he told her. "Whatever you prepare is fine."

"All right." The blonde woman continued to peer up at him, her hands wringing her apron in what appeared to be an unconscious nervous gesture as she bit her bottom lip.

Vegeta sighed still again. There was no winning against these females; he'd had better success in battle before. "She is weeping again, isn't she?"

Mrs. Briefs opened her mouth and quickly shut it again before giving him a little nod.

Vegeta let out an exasperated growl. "All right, Woman. I am coming in with you." He dropped down from the tree beside her. "Know this. I do not have an answer for Bulma at this time. I never wanted to be a father. I never expected to be a father. But it has happened. While I am not angry about it, I do not wish to be forced into telling her what she wants to hear only to placate her." Thoughts of Frieza's court, of kneeling before the evil tyrant and forcing himself to all but worship him while acting as if he were sincere drifted through his head. They sickened him. To this day, he couldn't stomach insincere people.

Mrs. Briefs actually looked relieved. "Why, that's fine, dear. You just need some time to think about all of this. I know nothing changed my life as much as having Bulma did. If you want, I could talk to her for you."

"That's not..." Vegeta paused. He didn't need anyone else nosing into his business, but how many times had he reluctantly admitted that this woman wasn't as moronic as she made herself out to be? She was, in fact, quite the opposite. Perhaps the woman would listen to her mother.

"I'm only offering, dear, because Shatsu was a little stunned himself when he found out that I was carrying Bulma," Mrs. Briefs supplied, interrupting his thoughts. "We hadn't expected to be having a child when we did, but when Bulma arrived, Shatsu was an absolutely wonderful father." She smiled fondly at the memory and patted Vegeta's arm.

"That will be fine."

Mrs. Briefs opened her mouth again, unsure of what he meant. "Do you mean the child, or speaking to Bulma about it?"

Vegeta's eyes flicked over to hers; he hadn't considered that she would take his comment that way. "You may speak to her," he responded, "after we eat."

Mrs. Briefs' smile lit up her face. "I will, dear. Don't worry, she'll be fine." She patted Vegeta's arm again. "You'll be fine too." With that, she headed back toward the house, leaving him to wonder still again how this woman was able to do the things she did with respect to him.