Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Whatever It Takes ❯ Chapter 19 ( Chapter 19 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

AN: This chapter marks the beginning of some pretty big turning points in the story. I hope you'll all be pleasantly surprised by what you see. :)

Don't forget to make sure to review and let me know what you think.

Special thanks to my husband for reading this for me, even though he thinks that Vegeta's becoming a sissy (boo!).

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 Nineteen

"Well, let's go, big guy. Gram said that this is the day she and Gramps would be there," Vegeta told his son as they headed for the den. "Maybe we'll get to see them on the television."

"Ga! Ga!" VJ exclaimed, bouncing in his father's arms excitedly. During the past month, VJ had surprised his mother by suddenly starting to babble things other than 'Da-ee' and 'Mama' that actually made sense. She'd insisted that nine months was incredibly soon for that, as was the fact that the boy was now pulling himself around using the furniture and eating certain solid foods, until Vegeta had reminded her that a Saiyan baby's development was more rapid than that of a human baby's. After all, why would the Saiyans have sent infants to destroy planets if they had been physically unable to do so?

"Have you seen them yet?" Vegeta asked as he entered the den and sat down with his son.

Anya shook her head. "Nope, not yet, but it's early."

Vegeta pulled out his cell phone and began scrolling through his messages. "Bunny e-mailed me a map showing where they're sitting. I'll point them out if I see them."

Bulma frowned a little. Here, her parents had managed to attend a couple days of the winter games, and they keep in touch with him instead of her! What was up with that? "Oh. That's good." She sat back against the loveseat, feeling a little sorry for herself.

"Hey, don't take it like that," Vegeta told her, having picked up on her mood. "I asked where they'd be so I could point them out to the boys, that's all."

Bulma sighed. She hadn't thought to do that herself, as she'd been incredibly busy perfecting and marketing her latest invention. It was a power supply unit meant for commercial use, one which could save corporations thousands of dollars a year in energy costs. She was also looking into the future possibility of expanding their market with a scaled-down version meant for residential use. She had a company lined up who had expressed serious interest in the product, and she'd been in negotiations for weeks with them. "I know. It's no big deal."

"I'm sure your mother didn't mean to slight you in favor of King Kong, Baby," Hiroshi commented, sliding his arm around Bulma's shoulders a little more. "She's probably just excited is all."

"Hiroshi, please," Bulma sighed. What he'd said might have been encouraging had he not thrown in the King Kong remark. He'd been making a lot of those sorts of comments lately, and she was just waiting for Vegeta to finally snap. "That's not necessary."

Hiroshi just shrugged and reached for some popcorn, looking rather satisfied with himself. He shot a smirk Geta's way, as the younger man didn't look very pleased and wasn't hiding his reaction. "Down boy! We wouldn't want to spoil everyone's enjoyable viewing experience, now would we?"

Geta sat back at Anya's gentle prompting, muttering something about being all too happy to give everyone present an enjoyable viewing experience.

"Hiroshi, come on," Bulma complained. "Let's just watch the game."

Vegeta tried to ignore the imbecile, but it was just too difficult. He still couldn't comprehend why Bulma would keep a man who insulted her family and friends around, but whatever. "Vegeta, why don't you come sit with Grandpa and baby Vegeta?" he offered, slipping VJ onto one knee.

The little boy had easily picked up on his father's anger and had been looking at Hiroshi uneasily, unknowingly wondering the same thing his grandfather was- why did Grandma like such a mean man? He brightened and slid off his mother's lap. "Okay, Ganpa!" he said cheerfully as he toddled over to Vegeta, who picked him up and placed him on his other leg.

:Thank you, Pops.:

Vegeta let a little smile out as his grandson curled up against him and began to suck his thumb. :Of course. You just keep your husband under control.:

:I'll do my best,: Anya told him. :I'm not feeling the greatest today, and putting up with what's-his-face makes me want to hurl.:

Vegeta actually let out a little chuckle at that. "I'd say 'sucks to be you' if I didn't know the feeling," he said aloud, grinning when she laughed and leaned over from the sofa to high-five him.

"Oh Pops, you're so funny." Anya giggled and leaned over to grab her bowl of popcorn, placing it on her husband's lap so they could share it.

Bulma knew exactly what was going on- another mental conversation about her boyfriend, and no doubt not something nice. "Vegeta, please."

"Right on time," Vegeta murmured, interrupting Bulma's chastisement. "Arriving in three, two..."

"Hi, Guys!" Goku exclaimed as he, his family, Krillin and Yamcha suddenly appeared in the den.

Everyone except Hiroshi, who couldn't have cared less, greeted the new arrivals. "Hello Kakarrot. I see you've learned how to follow simple directions," Vegeta said with a smirk. "Good thing for you."

Goku had learned the hard way to check with the person he intended to visit before teleporting. Not only had he popped in on Soba and his wife in a compromising situation on Yardrat, but he'd popped in on Vegeta the other day, right after the older Saiyan had gotten into the shower. Needless to say, the poor man had gone home with a good yelling at and a broken nose. When he'd arrived back home and explained what had happened to his wife, she'd given him her lecture about The Importance of Responsibility. He didn't want to repeat either experience. "Ha ha, Vegeta. Funny." Goku scooped some popcorn out of the enormous bowl on the coffee table and parked himself cross-legged on the floor in front of the television as the others sat down on the couch.

"Didn't you want to sit on the couch, Goku? There's plenty of room," Geta offered. Since their family had expanded, the Briefs had deemed it appropriate to replace their couch with one that wrapped around a corner, creating half again as much seating space.

"No, that's okay," Goku responded, cramming popcorn into his mouth. "Hey, look! There's Bunny in the crowd!" he shouted, little fragments of popcorn flying from his lips. He waved at the screen, despite Mrs. Briefs obviously not being able to see him.

Vegeta rolled his eyes. "Kakarrot, you're such a fool," he muttered. "See, Vegeta? Do you see Gram on the television?" he prompted. Sometimes the fact that both children were named Vegeta actually made things easier rather than utterly confusing. This was one of those times.

"Yeah!" Vegeta shouted. "Lookit, baby Veeta! Lookit Gam!" The boy slid off of Vegeta's lap, disappointed when his great-grandmother disappeared from the screen before he got there. "Awww..."

"That's too bad, Vegeta," Yamcha soothed the pouting little boy. "But I have something for you if your mama says it's okay."

Vegeta immediately forgot about his disappointment and made a beeline over to Yamcha. "What's it?" he asked eagerly. Mr. Yamcha usually had a yummy- the boy's word for a tasty treat- whenever he said he had something for him.

Yamcha waited until Vegeta took the hint and kept his infant son occupied before producing a chocolate chip cookie wrapped in cellophane from his pocket, grinning when the child's eyes became round as saucers. "Want, Mama! Veeta have yummy?" he asked hopefully.

"Okay, but nothing after dinner," Anya decided. "What do we say to Mr. Yamcha?"

"Fank you!" the little boy said, eagerly accepting the cookie.

"Whoa! Whoa!"

Vegeta turned his attention from his grandson to the television, where the yelling was coming from. He frowned. "What exactly is this we're watching?" he asked, unfamiliar with the sport.

"Good line!" came another call from the television.

"It's called curling," Krillin offered. "You score points by getting your stones down to the other end as close to the center of the circle as possible while preventing the other team from doing so."

"They use the brooms to control how fast the stones go," Gohan added. "It actually takes a lot of skill."

"And strategy, too," Chi-Chi spoke up, helping herself to some popcorn.

"Huh." Vegeta glanced down at his son, who was now drifting off to sleep on his lap before watching the game further. Strategy was good. Perhaps it would be an interesting game.

"Yeah, yeah! Hard! Really hard!" one woman bellowed from her spot on the ice.

Vegeta couldn't contain a smirk. He'd teach that insolent bastard touching Bulma too much for his liking a lesson. "Hey, that brings back the memories, doesn't it, Princess?" he quipped, shooting her a wink.

Bulma turned pink. "Vegeta, for Kami's sake," she murmured, but made no move to dispute what he said or chastise him further. She bit at her lip. He was right, damn him, but she'd never admit it.

Vegeta noted with satisfaction of his own that Hiroshi was glaring at him. "Down boy!"

"Listen, you-"

"Whoops, got a text. Hold on," Vegeta interrupted, checking his phone. Momentarily he began to laugh. "Bunny, you naughty woman."

"What's so funny, Pops?" Anya asked, a slow smile spreading over her face.

Vegeta handed her the phone, amused when she began to giggle and Geta chuckled from over her shoulder.

"Okay, what is it, Vegeta?" Bulma asked, her curiosity piqued as the phone got passed to Chi-Chi, who was trying to maintain a disapproving expression but actually laughed nonetheless.

"Here." Yamcha tossed her the phone with amusement, having read the text himself as it made the rounds.

That's what she said.

"Mother, you watch too much TV," Bulma muttered, a little embarrassed as she returned the phone to Vegeta. Her mother had introduced Vegeta to a program called 'The Workplace,' insisting that he'd find it funny. Despite having stated that someone like him would never work behind a desk- hands-on activities definitely being more his forte- he claimed that he'd known idiots like that on Frieza's ships.

Based on his amusement, evidently he had liked the program, after all.

"Like I said, brings back the memories," Vegeta pretended to reminisce.

Hiroshi got up from the loveseat, in what would soon become evident was a futile effort to be intimidating, and stood over the smirking Saiyan. "Listen you foul-mouthed ape," he snarled, "how dare you make such comments to my girlfriend, and right in front of me? Who the hell do you think you are?"

Vegeta stood up and handed his son to Anya. "No, you listen, you stupid, insolent jackass," he snarled back. "I couldn't care less about the garbage which spews forth from your trap regarding me, but how dare you make offensive, degrading comments about Bulma's family and friends when you supposedly care about her? You self-righteous, hypocritical bastard!" he shouted, getting right back in the taller man's face.

"Vegeta, don't!" Bulma cried, leaping up from her seat to separate them. She knew she needed to end this before things got ugly, especially with the children in the room. "We don't need this! Let me talk to him about this, okay?"

Vegeta pursed his lips as he glared at Hiroshi. "For your sake I will not say what is on my mind," he made out through clenched teeth, "but rest assured that I also intend to talk to you about this, Bulma."

"That's a relief. You're obviously deluded," Hiroshi said haughtily.

Vegeta decided not to dignify the cretin with a response but merely continued to glare at him.

Bulma shifted uncomfortably on her feet. The two men were locked in a staring match, and neither seemed inclined in the least to be the one to back down. "Vegeta, Hiroshi, please. This isn't helping anything," Bulma said weakly.

Neither man acknowledged her as they continued staring.

"Hiroshi..." When pleading with her boyfriend failed to yield any results, she attempted another tactic. "Vegeta? Vegeta, look at me, please." She rested a hand on his arm. "Please?"

Vegeta let out a low growl. "This is far from over," he snarled, barely resisting the strong urge to beat the man to a pulp. "I'm going to train. Anyone who feels inclined is welcome to join me. That includes Anya and Chi-Chi," he announced, his eyes still locked with Hiroshi's.

Goku had been close to intervening and got to his feet. "That sounds like a really good idea," he spoke up. "I'll come."

"Me, too," Yamcha added.

Krillin got up from the couch. "Count me in."

"Mom, we'll show you the GR," Gohan offered. "It's really cool."

"I think I'd like that," Chi-Chi agreed.

"I'll put the kids down for a nap and be right out," Geta said, glaring at the man he despised who was dating his mother.

"I'll take them, Honey," Anya told him. "I'd like to lie down for a little bit myself." Truth be told, her stomach was upset and she was afraid she'd be sick again. Whatever she'd eaten yesterday was still not out of her system, and she felt decidedly nasty.

Geta looked a little concerned but didn't comment. "All right. Come on out later if you feel better."

"Will do." Anya held her hand out to her son, who looked a little scared by what had just happened. "Come along, Vegeta. Come take a nap with Mama."

The boy didn't hesitate and let his mother lead him out of the room, the others following suit.

"Well, it was sure nice seeing you again, Bulma," Krillin told her on the way out. "Have a good afternoon."

"Thanks, Krillin. You too." Bulma sat back down on the couch heavily and ran a hand over her face. "Hiroshi, was that really necessary?" she asked tiredly.

Hiroshi turned to her, his arms crossed stubbornly. "How can you blame your ex's bad behavior on me?" he asked irritably. "Everyone controls their own behavior. You know that about him first hand."

Bulma sighed. It took two to tango, but he was in no mood to discuss anything. "I know, but..."

Hiroshi picked up the remote and turned off the television. "Let's get out of here," he said snobbishly. "I don't care to be around that idiot or his equally idiotic son any longer than necessary."

Bulma got back up from the couch. "Hey, Geta's my son too, Hiroshi, and neither of them are idiots," she said defensively.

Hiroshi rolled his eyes. "Fine, sure. Let's just go already."

***

Bulma crept into the dark house and hung her coat up in the hall closet. She leaned against the wall, completely out of sorts about the whole day. Although she'd enjoyed the dinner and play they'd gone to, the rest of the day had been less than pleasant, from the ugly altercation that afternoon to the fact that Hiroshi had pressured her to sleep with him again, becoming irritated when she told him that she wasn't ready yet. She sighed. She didn't know if she was not ready so much as she just didn't want to. Why that was, she didn't know.

Or was it, she didn't want to admit the real reason?

Bulma headed up the stairs toward the bedrooms and peeked into the nursery. Both boys were sound asleep so she carefully closed the door and headed for her own room. She paused before reaching it, impulsively cracking one more door open along the way.

Vegeta was lying face down on the pillow, snoring loudly enough to wake the dead. She frowned; he'd never snored that badly before. Feeling even worse about herself, she closed the door to Vegeta's room.

All right, okay. Vegeta was a big part of the reason she hadn't slept with Hiroshi. He'd know somehow if she did. She thought about what he'd said that day he'd cornered her in the kitchen. He hadn't relinquished her title, Princess of Saiyans. Even though she had every right to date whoever she wanted, she did care about Vegeta's feelings and knew he would be crushed.

Bulma flopped down her bed, uncaring of the fact that she still wore her good clothes. Trying to push the thoughts racing through her brain away, she slipped under the covers and rolled over.

***

Vegeta slumped against the shower wall, cold water rushing over him as he struggled to revive his higher brain functions. He'd had far too much to drink the night before but he really needed to wake up, since Bulma had an early morning appointment and Geta had already gone out to the GR to train. He knew that Anya wasn't feeling the greatest, but even if that hadn't been the case it wouldn't be fair to expect her to watch both children so he could sleep it off.

He sighed and turned off the water. The boys would be up soon, and he intended to drink at least an entire pot of coffee before that happened, just so he'd be able to function.

After trudging to the kitchen he got out a large bowl into which he poured an entire box of cereal, feeling too lazy to cook for himself, and sat down with the coffee pot. Since Geta was training he thought he might catch a little more of those ridiculous winter games, unwilling to admit that he was actually beginning to like watching them. It would be evening in the East, but he knew the hockey games wouldn't start until evening. Perhaps he'd catch the game Western Country was playing in, especially since Bulma's friend Yamcha claimed to know one of the defensemen on the team. Why that mattered he didn't know.

Vegeta shrugged and put his bowl in the sink, feeling much better with food in his stomach and caffeine flowing through his veins. Maybe today wouldn't totally suck. After all, Bulma had spent all day yesterday with the jackass, so hopefully that meant he wouldn't be around today. He was just about to go into the den to watch television when he heard a sound he was most definitely not unfamiliar with coming from the bathroom down the hall. "Anya?"

***

"Ohhh..." Anya moaned pitifully and pushed herself away from the toilet, tucking her long hair behind her ears as she slumped back against the bathroom wall. She'd gotten sick yesterday and the day before and had dismissed it as something she'd eaten, but this was lasting far too long. She wiped her face with a towel. ~The last time I felt this bad was when I was pregnant with Vegeta. I must be pregnant again. I can't imagine what else could make me so sick.~

She heard someone rapping lightly against the hallway side of the bathroom door. "Anya? Are you all right in there?"

Anya reached up to unlock the door before leaning back over to flush the toilet. "Yeah, Pops, I'm fine." She sighed and ran her hand through her hair tiredly as he opened the door enough to peek in. She looked up at him and gave him a shaky little smile.

The undeniable scent of vomit assaulted Vegeta's nose and he frowned. "Are you sick?" he asked, coming in and looking down at her with concern.

Anya shrugged. "I- I don't think so. I think I'm pregnant, actually." She blushed when he raised an eyebrow. "I haven't been this sick since I carried Vegeta." She chewed at the edge of her lower lip. "Could you, well, I guess you could say, check for me?"

There was a brief pause. "Did you want to know the child's sex?" Vegeta asked straightforwardly.

A tinge of pink returned to her cheeks. "Sure," she responded softly.

"Female." Vegeta pulled a little paper cup from the dispenser next to the sink and offered his daughter-in-law some water. "Here, sip it."

"Female. A little girl. I'm going to have a little girl!" Anya took the water gratefully. "Thanks Pops." Her eyes shone happily.

"Yeah, yeah," he grumbled, making her giggle. "Congratulations, Anya."

Anya's smile quickly deteriorated as she lunged for the toilet again. He reached down to hold her hair back for her and rubbed her shoulder gently.

"Don't tell Geta, okay? I want to tell him myself." Anya sighed, tired beyond belief.

"Of course you should be the one to tell him," Vegeta agreed. "I'm sure he will be pleased."

She smiled shyly and pushed herself to her feet. "I hope so."

"Don't be ridiculous," Vegeta scolded. "Why wouldn't he be? He said he was ecstatic when you told him about Vegeta."

"I know. Vegeta's not very old yet, and I guess I'm just nervous about having two little lives dependent upon me for everything. I'm excited about this baby, don't get me wrong, but..." Anya bit at her lip.

"Anya, anyone can see that you're a good mother and I know my son is very pleased with you as his wife," Vegeta assured her. "You are worrying needlessly."

Anya's eyes shone with unshed tears. "Thanks, Pops." She stepped up to him and wrapped her arms around him in a hug, sniffling against his shoulder.

Vegeta hesitated for a minute, then returned the hug, patting her back gently. "Shhh… you'll do just fine."

She nodded and drew away, sniffling again, then reeled slightly. "Ohhh, Kami…" She closed her eyes, covering her mouth with one hand and turning a rather putrid shade of green.

Vegeta's hand shot out to steady her. "Anya?" he asked worriedly. "Can I get you anything?"

She opened her eyes. "Just… you."

Vegeta looked at her as if she'd asked for a slug sandwich with all the fixings. "What?"

"Keeping in contact with Geta always made me feel at least somewhat better," she explained. "For some reason, your ki is even more effective. I would have thought it would be the other way around, since Geta is the baby's father. Maybe it's because he's half Saiyan and you're 100 percent." She sighed. "Can I sit with you for a while?"

"Sure… no problem. Not until your husband notices, anyway."

"Oh, don't you worry about it. I'll take care of him. He's training right now, anyway."

***

"Anya?"

"In the den, Sweetie!"

Geta trudged into the den, sweaty and covered in grime and blood. "I'm going to take a shower. Care to join…" He trailed off as he saw his wife sitting on the couch watching the television.

Also sitting with her was his father, who looked pretty darn cozy, seeing as he was sitting quite close and had his arm resting rather casually around her bare shoulders. "Son."

Anya looked up from the television and smiled. "Sure, sounds like fun," she agreed, winking naughtily at him. "The game will be over in… how much longer, Pops?"

Vegeta smirked; the time remaining was displayed quite prominently on the screen. "Oh, I'd guess the last five minutes will take fifteen minutes or so." He let his hand drop down on her shoulder.

"In fifteen minutes, Honey. If you don't want to watch, why don't you go upstairs and wait for me, hmm?" Anya smiled sweetly at her husband.

Geta clenched his jaw, his eyes glued to Vegeta's arm; his position seemed to be quite deliberate. What the hell was his father doing, anyway? "Are you sure you don't want to come now?"

:Oh, he's fuming!:

:I have to admit, this is fun.:

:You're so bad, Pops.:

:I know.:

"Hey, what's the rush?" Vegeta asked grumpily. "Can't you see she's watching the game?" He flipped to another channel where another sport was in progress.

"Aww, Pops! I was watching that- ooh, maybe they'll show the results of yesterday's games," Anya squealed, sitting up for a closer view of the screen. "If Western Country wins today, they'll medal for sure!"

"Hey, sit back so I can see too, Anya." Vegeta drew her back against the couch again and readjusted his arm around her shoulders. "There, that's better." He grinned at his son, who looked like he was about to blow his top, and raised an eyebrow.

"All right, what the-"

"Oooh! Geta, I almost forgot!" Anya exclaimed, bouncing once on the couch in her exuberance as she sat up straight. "Guess what?"

"What?" her bewildered husband nearly wailed.

"Remember how we were discussing my heritage not too long ago, and I mentioned that I am 100 percent Gerdian?"

"Yeah?"

"Well, I just found out that I actually do have a little Saiyan in me. Isn't that something?"

Geta frowned. "That's absurd. How could you have even a little… Saiyan…" His eyes got big as saucers and his jaw disengaged slightly as it occurred to him just how that impossible statement could be true.

The pair on the couch exchanged a grin.

"Well, I'll let you take over, Son. This is your doing, anyway." Vegeta patted his daughter-in-law on the shoulder and extricated his arm from behind her. "Congratulations again, Kiddo." He got up from the couch and poked his stunned son in the ribs as he passed by, smirking.

Anya blushed. "Thanks Pops. Now, shoo!" When he was gone, she patted the couch beside her. "Come here, Sweetie."

Geta obeyed blindly and sank down onto the couch. He took the hand she offered and stared at her, dumbfounded. "An-Anya… are you saying you're… you're…"

"Pregnant?" she whispered. "Yes. Pops came across me sick in the bathroom again today, so I asked him to check and he confirmed it for me." She squeezed Geta's hand. "You're a daddy again."

"You're pregnant," he breathed, reaching out with his ki and feeling the baby's for himself. A huge grin spread over his face. She was pregnant, and with a daughter, just the situation he'd imagined. "You're pregnant! I'm going to be a father again!" He swept her up in his arms and held her close. "Oh, Anya! That's wonderful!" he exclaimed, kissing her enthusiastically. He broke the kiss and jumped up from the couch. "I've got to tell Mother! Does anyone else know? I-"

"Whoa, calm down there, stud muffin," Anya objected, grabbing his hand. "Bulma's only working until lunch today, so she'll be home in a couple hours. Meanwhile, I seem to recall you owing me a shower." Her mouth quirked up in a sultry little smile.

A rather foolish grin spread across his face. "Oh, yeah..."

***

Anya and Geta had just finished getting the boys a snack when Bulma walked in, Hiroshi right behind her. "Hi, guys!" she greeted them cheerily. She spied her infant son, who was sitting in his high chair next to Anya, and scooped him up. "How's Mama's big boy?"

"Hungry," Anya supplied. "He just had a bottle and a jar of peaches, didn't you Sweetie?"

"Goodness, you were hungry, weren't you?" Bulma cuddled her son, who cooed happily at her. "So, what happened around here today? Anything exciting for a change?" She eyed her adult son. "All right, what did you do? You look like the cat that ate the canary."

Unable to contain his glee any longer, Geta leapt up from his chair and rushed over to his mother. "Mother, guess what? Anya's pregnant! I'm going to be a dad again! I'm so excited!" The news came out of his mouth so quickly that Bulma couldn't understand him.

Bulma gaped at him. "Whoa, slow down there! You sound like an excited little kid in a candy store. Why don't you rewind that and play it back at normal speed?" She grinned at him.

Geta gave her a sheepish little grin. "Sorry... I'm just so excited. Anya's pregnant! I'm a dad again!"

Bulma shrieked, covering her mouth with her hands. "Oh, Honey, how absolutely wonderful!" she exclaimed, giving him and Anya hugs. She turned to Hiroshi. "Isn't this exciting, Hiroshi?"

"Hmph." Hiroshi turned up his nose. "How nice for you. Another little alien monstrosity to feed."

"Oh!" Anya gasped, her eyes filling with tears. Normally she'd either smart off right back at him or even ignore him, but this was her baby he was talking about! While she hadn't expected anything constructive to come out of Hiroshi's mouth, the very thought of someone thinking of her and Geta's child as a monstrosity hurt more than she ever thought possible.

Bulma let out a gasp of her own. "Hiroshi!" she exclaimed in disbelief. "How could you say such a thing?"

Hiroshi shrugged apathetically. "Personally, I detest children." The double meaning behind his words was clear.

"Hiroshi..." The hurt and devastation on Bulma's face was evident.

Geta gave him a dirty look. "Thank you for your kind words, you sick-"

"Geta." Vegeta's tone was clearly a warning.

Geta turned to see his father standing in the doorway holding his son and looking none too happy himself. "Father, he has no right-"

Vegeta held up a hand to silence him. :This is for your mother to handle. Do not make it any more difficult for her to deal with.:

Geta stared at his father for a minute, then let out his breath in an angry huff. "Fine." He put his arms around his upset wife and held her close. He glared at Hiroshi, the look on his face saying that the conversation wasn't over.

Bulma looked on in shock. She knew that Hiroshi didn't like Vegeta and wasn't particularly fond of Geta or the babies, but he didn't have to be so cold and rude about it.

One of those babies was her grandson. But even if Geta and Anya moved into their own home, the other baby was her son. She didn't want VJ to be harassed and picked on to the point that he'd hate himself, especially on account of being Saiyan. ~What if Vegeta was right, and Hiroshi does do something awful to my baby?~ VJ could sense the tension in the room and was whimpering. She clutched him tightly to her chest, stroking his soft hair comfortingly as she looked at Hiroshi, who seemed pretty pleased with himself. ~And here I thought if we stayed together... He obviously doesn't want kids.~

Vegeta had been watching Bulma intently and frowned at the obvious distress on her face. He had seen Hiroshi upset Bulma in the past, but this time there was a definite difference. Whereas Vegeta had seen Hiroshi make his son made the object of insults in the past, now VJ's well-being was on the line. Vegeta didn't take too kindly to that. :Here, take the boy,: he told Geta, slipping him Vegeta. He walked over to Bulma.

"Are you all right?" he asked in a low voice.

Bulma nodded and held VJ even closer. "Yeah, of course." She gave him a forced little smile. "Why do you ask?"

Vegeta felt like telling her not to take him for a fool but knew better than that. "Oh, Anya seems pretty upset. Maybe you could talk to her. You know, woman to woman talk."

Bulma gave him an inquisitive little look. She'd never expected him to suggest something like that. "That's a good idea," she whispered, heading over to her son and daughter-in-law. "Hey, chin up, Sweetheart."

"Mother! Did you or did you not hear what he said?" Geta demanded.

"Geta, please," Bulma pleaded.

"Mama, no boo-hoo." Vegeta patted at his mother's face gently. "Wuv you."

Anya smiled, her lower lip wobbling. "I love you too, sweet boy." She was offered and accepted a wet baby kiss from her son. "Oh, thank you!" Anya couldn't help but giggle. How could anyone see this little boy and the joy he had brought to their lives as anything other than a treasure to be cherished?

"Why don't we take the kids for a walk, Mother, all right?" Geta could easily see through his mother's front. Getting away from the situation was the best thing to do at the moment; not only was it a beautiful day out, but he knew that Hiroshi wouldn't deign to accompany them. "Wait... Where's Father?"

"Ganpa go bye-bye. Poof!" Vegeta tapped one chubby little hand against his forehead, then repeated the motion. "Poof! Ha ha!"

"Oh no..." Bulma's eyes got as big as saucers. Had Vegeta done what she thought he had while her back was turned? There was no other explanation, for now there were only three adults and two children in the room.

"What is it, Bulma?" Anya asked, concerned. "Hey, did Hiroshi leave?"

"Precisely," Bulma whispered. ~I think your father-in-law may finally have had enough.~

***

"Mama, no boo-hoo." Vegeta patted at his mother's face gently. "Wuv you."

Vegeta discretely stepped over to where Hiroshi was standing. "I'd like a word with you. In private."

"If you have something to say to me, say it right here and now," Hiroshi insisted stubbornly.

"Well, I don't know about that. In fact..."

The next thing the arrogant businessman knew, he was standing in the backyard beside the GR.

"...I'd rather not."

"You teleported us to the back yard! How dare you touch me, you addle-brained orangutan?" Hiroshi demanded snidely.

"Oozaru," Vegeta corrected his hated adversary, mentally counting backwards from 100 in some obscure alien tongue he'd learned as a child. He figured that there was no point in telling Hiroshi that he wasn't such a slump in the brains department; he'd taken a test online after he'd gotten his laptop which had proclaimed him a genius. Although he himself doubted the validity of such tests, he had been able to correctly solve all ten 'advanced' level problems. He'd even noted an error in one of Bulma's own calculations while visiting the lab and casually changed it when no one was looking on more than one occasion. "Once the Dragonballs are renewed and I wish back my tail, I'll show you," he said, his voice thick with sarcasm, "although I'd hardly need Oozaru to rid myself of the likes of you."

Hiroshi narrowed his eyes at the Saiyan, who was actually doing quite a remarkable job of keeping his cool. "I'll bet you'd just love that," he snapped. "Were you not able to comprehend what I said about saying your piece in the kitchen?"

"Didn't you think that Bulma looked upset enough as it was?" Vegeta countered. "I refuse to make a scene and upset her or my daughter-in-law any further." He turned to the other man. "Look, I'm very well aware that you hate me, and I'm sure you're quick enough to guess that I'm not too fond of you myself. Say and do what you want to me; I couldn't care less. Just leave my children and grandchildren out of your comments."

"How sweet. Give me one good reason why I should even consider doing that," Hiroshi shot back snidely.

Vegeta gave Hiroshi a dumbfounded look. Was he really that stupid, or did he just simply not care, even about Bulma's feelings? They'd even gone over this the day before, for Kami's sake! "You seem to have forgotten that my son's mother just so happens to be the woman you profess to care for. I reiterate- did you not see the look on her face when you said what you did? I can't stand seeing her hurting because of you, especially when you degrade our son. If for no other reason, do it for her."

"Excuse me? You have the gall to accuse me of hurting Bulma when you nearly destroyed her life a few months ago? She hardly smiled before I came into her life, and that was solely because of you. She's with a much better man now. Don't delude yourself by thinking otherwise." Hiroshi crossed his arms, smirking cruelly at the shorter man.

Vegeta clenched his jaw. "Now look who's got gall. I admit that I hurt Bulma and not a day goes by that I don't feel regret and hatred of myself over that. At least I was man enough to admit my mistake and the thought of hurting her again pains me, which is why I am having this conversation with you and why I am doing it out here instead of in front of her. Seeing her hurt when you make disparaging comments in front of her about her family and friends just angers and disturbs me to no end." Now it was Vegeta's turn to cross his arms and give Hiroshi a cold glare.

Hiroshi shook his head condescendingly. "Nice speech, King Kong. You're so full of it, and even more full of yourself. I suggest that you do us all a favor and take your head out of your butt so you can listen to yourself. What a hypocrite you are. If you actually cared for Bulma even half as much as you claim to, you would be man enough," he repeated mockingly, "to get out of her life before you completely ruin it. Then none of us will have to see the pain you're the cause of on her face."

Vegeta's fists were tightly balled, his face red with anger. "For not the first time, I am holding back both my tongue and my hand, and only for Bulma's sake. Consider this conversation over, and an advisory to leave my family out of your own cruel delusions." He turned his back to Hiroshi, arms tightly crossed. "You know your way off of the complex."

Hiroshi snorted. "Do not even begin to fantasize that you can force me to leave. I am, however, compelled to do so in order to rid myself of the repulsive company of you and your spawn." With that, Hiroshi turned on his heel and strode away haughtily. "Inform Bulma that I'll be by at 5:00 to collect her for dinner."

When he was certain Hiroshi was gone, Vegeta levitated to the roof of the GR and sat down. Heaving a strangled sigh, he dropped his head into his hands. It had taken every ounce of strength he had not to kill the man and scatter his remains at the far corners of the universe. He was so angry that his hands shook, a growl rumbling in his chest. "Kami damn it..."

Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a pack of cigarettes and lit one, drawing in deeply. As he exhaled, he suddenly realized that Bulma had approached and was standing beside the GR. "If you're here to rip me a new orifice for harassing your boyfriend, I... I'm listening. I shouldn't have touched the man," he said in a low, defeated voice before taking another drag on the cigarette.

"N-no, I'm not," came her whispered reply. "I..." ~I heard what you said, and it was all true. Just say it, Bulma.~ "Vegeta, why are you smoking? I've never known you to smoke."

Vegeta took one last drag and lit a second cigarette from the first one, which he then disintegrated. "Oh, it's a bad habit I took up recently," he said in a voice that couldn't completely hide the bitterness he felt. "It helps soothe my nerves. Better than the alternative." He snorted in disgust. "My hands've been clean for a while now, if you get my meaning. Not since..." He stopped dead in mid-sentence. "Anyway, it's only outside and never near the boys. You don't need to worry about that."

"You... I know you don't get sick like humans do, but you never know what cigarettes could do even to your physiology. I had trouble quitting and I'm having an even harder time getting Daddy to quit." Bulma bit her lip. "Listen, Vegeta, I'm sorry you heard what Hiroshi said earlier. It was completely uncalled for, and I-"

"No, Woman. I don't want you apologizing for what someone else said," Vegeta interrupted gruffly. He disintegrated the second cigarette too, then, perusing the pack, crushed it in his hand before it disappeared in a burst of ki. "You're right about these damn things. I've had a lousy training session since I started on them."

When Bulma's only response was a small sigh, Vegeta looked down to see her trying unsuccessfully to blink back tears. "Bulma, please don't... I can't stand to see you cry, especially because of me." He got up and lowered himself to the ground next to her. "I hate seeing such a pretty face streaked with tears." He reached out and gently wiped her tears away with his hand, wanting nothing more than to gather her into his arms and hold her close.

~Dearest Kami, what am I doing? Why am I constantly second guessing myself about Hiroshi? He cares about me! I can work this out with him. But he doesn't make me feel the way Vegeta is right now. Does he really mean what he just said?~ "Vegeta, I'm not crying because of you," she whispered.

"Shhh... let's not talk about it any more," Vegeta suggested. "We should make sure that Anya's all right."

Bulma nodded in agreement. "She shouldn't have so much stress, especially this early in her pregnancy. It's extremely bad for the baby."

This time Vegeta did grab her hands in his. "Bulma... I'm sorry that because of my foolish pride I missed out on so many things I could have experienced when you carried Vegeta. It was all my own doing and I hurt you by my neglect." His thumbs rubbed over her small hands gently. "I took for granted that which I should have recognized as truly an honor and privilege, the greatest gift anyone has ever given me. I could have been there to watch the swell of your belly grow, to rest my ear against it to hear our son's heart beating, to feel the early flutters of his movements become strong, healthy kicks, to hold your hand while you gave birth, but I didn't. And just the thought of it now..." He shook his head, a combination of obvious disgust with himself, longing and regret on his face.

Bulma's eyes filled with tears. "Oh, Vegeta..."

"The worst part is that I'll probably never-" Again, he cut himself off abruptly and let go of Bulma's hands, blushing slightly.

Bulma blushed, catching the meaning behind his statement. "Don't say that. You never know what direction your life will take." Her eyes widened as she realized how what she said sounded. "I mean, maybe someday you'll meet-"

"No," Vegeta interrupted. "That will never happen. My heart is already spoken for." Unable to look at her, he turned quickly and headed for the house.

"Vegeta," Bulma whispered, hugging her arms around herself. A tear trickled down her cheek.

***

Vegeta closed the nursery door to find Mrs. Briefs approaching. "Bunny."

"Are they asleep, Dear?" she asked in a quiet voice.

He nodded. "Out like two little lights."

The blonde woman giggled. He was so cute! "Come along then, I have something to show you," she instructed.

"What is it?" Vegeta asked, following her into her bedroom. "More ski equipment?"

"I'm going to get you out on those slopes whether you like it or not, Dear," Mrs. Briefs informed him as she retrieved a capsule from her nightstand. "I'm sure you'll just love skiing once you give it a chance."

"Okay..."

Mrs. Briefs laughed upon seeing the skeptical expression on his face. "Oh, no... regular skiing is nothing like what you saw at the winter games on TV," she assured him. "It's actually fun and it'll give you a great workout. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

While the idea of a great workout highly appealed to him, Vegeta still didn't know if he wanted to go. He'd never done anything of the sort, and he didn't like the cold and snow at all. But it wouldn't kill him to go simply to make the woman happy, since she tried so hard to please him. He'd learned that the hard way with Bulma, and was paying for it in spades. "I suppose I could give it a try."

Mrs. Briefs beamed at him. "Wonderful! But meanwhile, I got this for you since you've been spending so much time indoors lately." She handed him the capsule. "By the way, are you sure you wouldn't like me to watch little VJ for you now and then while you train?" She knew that since Bulma had been in meetings so much, Vegeta had been giving up a lot of his training time to watch his son.

"No, it's all right," Vegeta assured her. "I can mind him. Besides, the GR is broken right now, so it's pretty pointless to train there." He didn't want to add any burden to Mrs. Briefs or anyone else when he was perfectly able to take care of his own child. He enjoyed spending time with the happy baby, who was oftentimes the only joy in his miserable life. Besides, he didn't need to give Bulma's boyfriend any more fuel for his 'lazy, good for nothing mooching loser' fire. He got enough insults as it was, and while he didn't care, the man's behavior would only continue to bring the rest of the household grief.

Mrs. Briefs nodded. "All right, but don't forget that my offer is always good."

"Thanks." Vegeta held up the capsule. "Should I open this now?"

"Oh my, yes!" Mrs. Briefs exclaimed. "I almost forgot." She giggled.

Vegeta opened the capsule with amusement but found himself surprised by what was inside. "A guitar?"

She nodded. "You're very talented at everything you've ever set your mind to do, and I think you'll be good at this too. Besides, playing music can be very therapeutic. I always love playing my piano."

Vegeta had seen the blonde woman play on numerous occasions and had always gotten the impression that she enjoyed it. He needed a little enjoyment in his life, and as long as he wasn't training, he might as well pick up a useful hobby. "Sure, I'll try it." He examined the instrument. "Do you know how to play?"

"No, but I know there are some instructional videos on demand if you want to watch them," she told him. "I'll help you find them if you like."

Before he knew it, she'd bookmarked several videos for him on his personal television, and he perched himself on the foot of his bed to watch them. "This doesn't seem all that complicated," he mused, picking up the guitar.

***

Vegeta jumped a little when a knock on the door startled him. He'd been so absorbed in what he was doing that he hadn't even noticed the ki approaching. "Come in."

Mrs. Briefs opened the door and smiled. He was still using the guitar; hopefully it had been a good choice. "Dinner is almost ready, Dear. I was hoping you could lend me a hand with it. The arthritis in my wrist is acting up and pulling the turkey out of the oven is a little difficult right now."

Vegeta immediately got to his feet. Had he really been playing around with the guitar for that long? "Say no more, Bunny. You should have asked me to help you sooner."

Mrs. Briefs tsked and waved her hand in dismissal of his chastisement. "It's all right. Besides, it looks like you've been enjoying your new guitar. Did you watch any of the videos yet?"

Vegeta nodded. "Yes. I think I have the general concept down."

"Already?" Mrs. Briefs seemed surprised. "Show me what you learned."

"Very well." Vegeta picked up the guitar and strummed out a few chords that would have typically taken the average new student several lessons to learn. "This song was on one of the lessons."

Mrs. Briefs' eyes grew wide when he began to play Smoke on the Water with ease. "You've... you've never played before, ever?"

"No, why?"

Mrs. Briefs took the guitar from him and placed it on the bed, then grabbed his hand to haul him from the room. "Dinner can wait."

"Wait for what?" Turkeydinner had to be one of his favorite meals, and he was hungry. Why would they wait to eat?

"Shatsu, Vegeta and I need to run out for a bit. The turkey is done. Don't wait on dinner for us!" Mrs. Briefs hollered as she herded the confused Saiyan toward the door.

"Where are we going?" he asked as they situated themselves into her vehicle.

"A very nice music store," she informed him as she started the car. "If we eat first, they'll close before we can get there." She pulled out of the garage and headed down the long driveway.

"All right, but why don't we just go tomorroooooow!" Vegeta suddenly realized just how Gohan must have felt while he was the passenger in Bulma's Ferrari as he clung to the armrests for dear life. She hadn't driven this way when they'd gone furniture shopping! Now he knew where Bulma got her need to drive fast from. "Bunny?"

"It's all right, Dear. But if we don't hurry, they'll close before we get a chance to look at things." Mrs. Briefs raced down the driveway and whipped out into the street as casually as if she were watering her plants, humming to herself as she drove. "We'll be there in no time at all, you'll see."

***

"I really don't know about this, Bunny." Vegeta got off of the ski lift and shuffled over to the edge of the hill.

"Oh, pish-posh. You'll be just fine," Mrs. Briefs assured him. "Just remember what I told you. It’s easy, see?" With that, the blonde woman pushed off and headed down the hill.

"What's the matter, monkey boy?" Hiroshi taunted, skiing up behind him. "You're not scared, are you?"

Vegeta scowled at the fool, who Bulma had insisted should come with them. "No, I'm not scared," he growled. "I just hate snow, and I hate the cold even more."

Hiroshi rolled his eyes. "You're such a wussy boy. Here, I'll show you how it's done."

"Oh Hiroshi, that's so sweet of you," Bulma offered, not having heard her boyfriend's earlier comments.

Hiroshi gave her a doting smile and a kiss, knowing he'd irritate her ex. "Anything for you, my dear," he purred. "All right, for starters, you have to go down the hill, like this."

While Vegeta had expected a demonstration, he had not expected Hiroshi to place a hand between his shoulders and give him a firm shove, sending him over the edge. "Hey, what the hell are you- ahhhhh!"

Hiroshi laughed as the Saiyan wobbled downhill full speed forward on his skis, a series of rather colorful expletives directed at him spewing forth from his mouth as he did so. "See, I knew you could do it, monkey boy! Good job!" he yelled, earning a glare from Bulma.

"Hiroshi, he wasn't ready!" Bulma scolded. "Why'd you have to do that?"

"Aww, he's fine," Hiroshi continued to laugh. "There's nothing Mr. Perfect can't do, remember?"

"That was still rude of you, and you know it- Vegeta! Vegeta, watch out for the..." She sighed. "...tree. Great."

Hiroshi shrugged. "At least he only caught it with his ski rather than crashing straight on into it," he commented nonchalantly.

"Uh! You're impossible." Bulma quickly made her way down the hill and stopped next to Vegeta, who was growling and cursing as Mrs. Briefs attempted to help him to his feet, her task awkward since he had one ski on and one off. "Are you okay, Vegeta?"

"Yeah, yeah. Fine," Vegeta responded, completely embarrassed by what had just happened, especially since the jerk was still laughing at him. Aside from the cursing, he was sure he must've sounded reminiscent of a six-year-old girl who'd seen a bug when he'd yelled on his way down the hill.

Bulma bit at her lip to keep from giggling and planted her poles in the snow, reaching up to brush the snow from his hair and coat. "Mom, would you mind finding Vegeta's ski and poles, please?"

"Of course, Dear," Mrs. Briefs agreed, immediately getting the point and leaving them alone.

"Stupid bastard-"

Bulma placed a finger over his lips to quiet him. "Vegeta, are you going to let one little fall turn you into a quitter?" she asked, smiling at him.

Vegeta drew in a deep breath. "Bulma, this was a mistake. I hate winter," he complained, crossing his arms stubbornly. "I hate this skiing business too."

"You know, he wouldn't mind it in the least if you sat in the car and pouted the whole time, or decided to teleport yourself back home." Bulma raised an eyebrow at him.

Vegeta opened his mouth, then closed it. "You're right," he told her, giving her a smirk and a kiss on the cheek, very well aware that the 'he' she had referred to was watching. "Just one question."

"What's that?" Bulma asked, blushing a little from the knowledge that her boyfriend had undoubtedly witnessed his seemingly innocent kiss, which she knew quite well was anything but innocent.

That, and she was forced to admit that she had liked the attention.

Vegeta leaned in close, as if to pose a confidential question. "How do I stop on these things?"

***

"See? I just knew you'd like skiing, Vegeta," Mrs. Briefs declared. "You only needed to stop being grumpy about it and give it a try."

Vegeta sighed as he peeled off his coat and boots. "Yes, you did say that, Bunny," he concurred, knowing it was useless to do anything other than agree with the insistent woman. Besides, he'd be lying if he said she wasn't right. Once he'd gotten the hang of it, he'd actually had fun.

Now, that was a new concept for him- fun that didn't involve anyone getting hurt. He almost sighed but held it in.

"You got Vegeta to ski, Bunny?" Dr. Briefs asked, putting his paper down.

"You should have seen him, Dear! He's a natural," Mrs. Briefs gushed. "Such a smart, talented young man you are." She kissed Vegeta's cheek, giggling as the young man blushed despite himself.

"Yeah, yeah," Vegeta grumbled, picking up his gear. "I'm going to take a shower. I'll bring Vegeta in with me, Bulma." He headed for the door. "Nice skiing with you, Takashita." He smirked and left the kitchen.

"I'd like to take him ice skating," Mrs. Briefs continued thoughtfully. "I'll bet he'd be good at that, too. Oooh, maybe we could try hang gliding once it gets warm."

Dr. Briefs chuckled. "One thing at a time, honey Bunny," he told her, not bothering to mention that there was no reason for a man who could fly under his own power to want to go hang gliding.

"We'll see." Mrs. Briefs opened the oven and sniffed as the wonderful smell of glazed ham wafted out. "Oh my, but this smells good," she commented. "I suppose I should start on the rest of dinner. Bulma, would you mind scrubbing some potatoes for me while I make my pies?"

"Mom, Hiroshi and I were going to go out for dinner," Bulma began, but didn't get far as her mother would have nothing of it.

"Oh, don't be silly, Dear," Mrs. Briefs chastised. "Anya was nice enough to put this lovely ham in the oven, and you already spent all day with Hiroshi. You can spend a little time with your family tonight, can't you?"

"But..." Bulma stopped. Her mother was right. Anya didn't feel well and had gone through the trouble of helping out that day. It would be unappreciative of the younger woman if she didn't have dinner at home. Besides, she'd hardly even seen her baby that day. "That's fine, Mom. Hiroshi, do you like sweet potatoes or white?" she asked, opening the pantry.

"I hate potatoes," Hiroshi said snidely. "I won't be staying for dinner."

"Oh, that's too bad," Mrs. Briefs responded, not sounding disappointed in the slightest. "Well, have a nice evening, Hiroshi. Bye, now."

Hiroshi hadn't planned on leaving so soon and looked a little affronted. "I'll see you around, Bulma," he growled as he headed for the front door.

"Bye-bye, Dear!" Mrs. Briefs sang, not concerned in the least that the man had deliberately tracked dirty water through the kitchen on his way out.

"Mom! That was rude," Bulma objected.

"Are there enough potatoes?" Mrs. Briefs asked brightly as she scooped some pumpkin filling into a bowl.

"Mom!" It was then that Bulma noticed her father hiding behind his newspaper, which shook slightly in his hands. "Dad, it's not funny!"

Dr. Briefs put the paper down again and removed his glasses, rubbing at his eyes. "You're right, Pumpkin," he told her. "I'm glad you had a fun day."

"Ugh!" Bulma plunked a sack of potatoes on the counter and huffed out of the kitchen.

"Oh, I'll do that for you, Bunny," Dr. Briefs offered, getting up and joining his wife at the counter.

"Thank you, Dear. You're such a sweet young man. I'm glad you like potatoes." They both burst into laughter.

***

Vegeta put his freshly bathed and dressed son on the bed and opened his nightstand, revealing a whole slew of capsules. "So, what should Daddy try next, Vegeta?" he asked the wide-eyed baby. "We have a saxophone here. How about that?"

The baby let out a little huff of disapproval.

Vegeta chuckled. "I suppose you're right. You didn't seem to like the trombone yesterday, either." He shuffled around some more. "Violin? Harmonica? Flute?" he asked, holding up the capsules.

"Ohhh!" The baby bounced and waved his arms up and down.

Vegeta chuckled, knowing what the gestures his son was making meant. "Daddy doesn't know how to play the piano, Vegeta. You'll have to wait for Gram to play with you."

VJ let out another little huff and began pouting, his tiny lip protruding in defiance. "No!"

Ah, the child's newest word: no. Usually his mother was pleased when he said something new, but this word was one that she could live without. His father felt no differently. "You stop that, now," he chastised. "Don't be a little brat."

The boy's lip wobbled.

Vegeta rolled his eyes and sat down next to his son. "Come on, now. I'll play you a song, okay?" He picked up his guitar, the instrument he'd become the most comfortable with that made the least amount of noise.

***

Mrs. Briefs stopped outside Vegeta's bedroom door to listen. She could hear random notes coming from inside but couldn't tell what was being played. Smiling, she knocked on the door.

"Come in, Bunny."

Mrs. Briefs opened the door to see Vegeta with the baby in his lap and guitar in his hands. Her smile broadened. Vegeta was such a good father. "I just wanted to let you know that dinner is ready, Dear."

"Thank you, Bunny." Vegeta put his guitar on a stand beside the bed and scooped up his son. "Let's go eat some dinner, hmm? Then maybe Gram will play you a song on the piano if you're a good boy."

Mrs. Briefs laughed when the boy bounced and waved his hands in a playing gesture as he had earlier. "Oh, I think we could have a song or two before you go to bed," she assured her grandson, taking him from his father and snuggling him close. "Oh, but you're such a darling boy," she cooed, placing a kiss on his forehead. "Gram just loves you bunches, you know that..."

Vegeta followed her as she headed for the kitchen. So much had happened even in the past month, except, that is, the one thing he really, truly wanted. Hopefully he could be patient long enough for Bulma to see that he was really, truly trying.

***

"So, here's where the addition will be," Dr. Briefs said, gesturing at the Capsule Corp building with his hands. "I think everyone will be pleased, including the employees and our household. In fact, I think you'll be especially pleased." He gave the Saiyan standing next to him a sideways glance.

Vegeta returned the glance. "Oh?" he asked inquisitively.

"Indeed, my boy." Dr. Briefs pulled a thick set of blueprints out from under one arm and unrolled it. "Can you tell what this section is?"

Vegeta craned his neck a little and leaned in to see the portion of the print the doctor was pointing to. "I don't..." He paused when he realized just what he might be looking at.

Dr. Briefs laughed at the wide-eyed expression on Vegeta's face as he looked up from the blueprint. "Ah, Son... You look just like a sixteen-year-old boy being handed the keys to a brand new sport scar," he teased.

"This is so much better than a sport scar, Shatsu," Vegeta breathed. "You really can build a GR right into the facility?"

"Sure! In fact, if I do that, I can improve upon the structural integrity of the design and add additional reinforcements here, all around the perimeter walls," Dr. Briefs explained, handing Vegeta the large set of sheets and turning back the page to view another portion of the schematics. "Plus, you wouldn't need to go outside, you could use the room during even a severe storm, and repairs could be made much more easily. I'll be able to use materials I wanted to before but that wouldn't work with the current design, which will allow me to raise the maximum gravity level and make the room more shock proof in the event of an explosion. I can even put a better ventilation system in and updated restroom facilities. We'll leave a sleeping area in there too, if you want. But best of all, I'll be able to connect you to our databases so I can feed you music through an even better stereo system," he gushed. "If you think the one I showed you in Capsule Three was state-of-the-art, you haven't seen anything yet."

Vegeta couldn't help but chuckle at the older man's enthusiasm. "I don't know what to say, Shatsu. Thank you." While an architect had doubtlessly drawn up plans for the addition, now he knew what Dr. Briefs had been spending so many hours on in his lab.

"You're so very welcome, Vegeta. I'm happy that you're pleased," Dr. Briefs said sincerely. "Besides, you and I both know that you've outgrown that GR you're using. You need something higher tech, and this should do nicely while I continue to incorporate your needs."

Vegeta nodded dumbly, touched by the thoughtfulness being shown to him. This only reinforced the Briefs' declarations that he was indeed welcome to stay here on a permanent basis. "Thank you," he repeated. "Does Bulma know about all of this?"

"She knows about the addition, of course, but I don't know how much she knows about the new GR. She's been so involved in this contract she's working on that she's had little time for anything else," the doctor mused. "But I'll be sure to run everything past her once the missus and I get back."

"Get back?" Vegeta echoed. "Are you taking a vacation?"

"Oh, didn't I tell you?" Dr. Briefs asked. "I have still another conference to go to, and since it's on SunnyIslandthis year, Bunny is going along. SunnyIsland has absolutely spectacular resorts. I couldn't swing it for you this time, but you'll have to come along next year."

"I suppose so," Vegeta responded. His head was swimming with everything that had just been presented to him. "When are you leaving?"

"Tonight," Dr. Briefs told him. "Bunny'll make sure that a few day's meals are made up before we leave, with Anya feeling sick and all."

"All right. Is there anything you need help with before you go?" Vegeta asked.

Dr. Briefs considered this. "No, I think we're all set, my boy. We'll only be gone for a few days. But if you wouldn't mind, could you take a look at the whole set of blueprints? You always have valuable input, and if you notice anything, I'd like to incorporate it."

"Of course," Vegeta agreed. "I'd be happy to."

"Wonderful, thank you. Just make any notations in red ink so they're easily noticeable." Dr. Briefs smiled at him. "Well, I'd better go help Bunny finish packing." He placed a hand on Vegeta's arm in a fatherly gesture before walking away.

***

"Have you seen Bulma?" Anya asked as she sat down with the boys' breakfasts. "She didn't come down to breakfast today."

"I think she's in another meeting," Geta told her, sitting down with his own food. "I tried to get her to stay in today because she looks and sounds terrible, but she wouldn't do it. She's never going to shake that nasty sinus infection if she doesn't rest up."

"I hear you," Anya agreed. "But she's been working so hard on this contract, and I know she'd hate to see it fall through."

Vegeta put his plates in the sink and thought about what they were saying. They were right. She would only get worse if she didn't rest. "Geta, I need you to mind Vegeta for a couple hours, if you don't mind."

Geta swallowed. "Okay. Are you going to train a bit?" His father hadn't trained much lately, considering how busy his mother had been lately, so he didn't blame him for wanting a little time to himself.

"No, I need to take care of something," Vegeta said cryptically before leaving the kitchen.

Anya and Geta exchanged a look. "Don't ask me," Anya spoke up. "The last time he had something to take care of, he ended up on another planet."

Geta shrugged. "I guess we'll find out."

***

Vegeta pulled the knot of the tie he'd selected tight around his throat and slid his suit coat on, glad that Mrs. Briefs had insisted upon having a couple of new suits tailored for him. He looked at his reflection and sighed, wondering if he really should be doing this. Bulma wouldn't be happy with him, but she was really sick. Besides, it seemed like her new power supply and this contract she was so desperately trying to sign were all she talked about all of the time, so he did know the basics about the project.

Before he could lose his nerve, Vegeta left his room and headed for the Capsule Corp offices. He'd do this for her, whether she put up a fuss or not. She needed him. He needed to be there for her when no one else could.

He opened the heavy door separating the executive offices from the rest of Capsule Corp and went inside, ignoring the hushed whispers of surprise at his appearance as he passed by. No one had ever seen him dressed in a suit; in fact, all that they had ever seen him wearing were jeans or bloodied up training shorts. He approached Bulma's assistant's desk. "Good morning, Nuiko."

Nuiko looked up from her work, her brows rising quite high when she saw him. "Good morning, Vegeta. I haven't seen you in a while."

"Yes, it's been a while," Vegeta responded, nodding to Miwa, another young lady currently in the office.

Nuiko couldn't help but wonder what Vegeta was doing there dressed the way he was. "What's up? Can I help you with something?"

"I have a meeting to attend," Vegeta told her as casually as if he were announcing he was going to train. "I presume that it is being held in this conference room?" He gestured to a door on the far wall.

The two women exchanged an uneasy glance. He couldn't possibly mean what it seemed like he did. "Vegeta, that's Bulma's sales meeting," Nuiko told him.

Vegeta smiled. "Oh, good. Then I have the correct conference room. If you'll excuse me, ladies." He strode toward the closed door.

Nuiko leapt up from her seat in an attempt to intercept him. Didn't he know what an important business deal this was? "Vegeta, wait. Vegeta, please, you can't go in there-"

Vegeta ignored her pleas for him to wait and entered the conference room. "Bulma, you need to go home," he announced. "Thank you, Nuiko," he said, shutting the door on Bulma's objecting assistant.

Bulma's eyes widened. "Vegeta, what's going on? This is not the time to be reminding me that the GR is broken," she moaned, dabbing at her nose with a tissue. "Please don't do this."

Vegeta frowned at her. "The GR can wait, but you are about to fall over," he said quietly. "I've never seen you so sick."

Bulma could feel the entire room's eyes on them. "Vegeta, I'm in the middle of a sales meeting!" she exclaimed weakly.

"Yes, and I doubt you're being very effective. Besides, if I were part of this meeting, I sure as hell wouldn't want you spreading your sinus infection to me," he pointed out, noting the uncomfortable shifting of the other participants of the meeting.

"But, Daddy's at a conference. Who's going to run this meeting if I leave?"

Vegeta opened the door. "Ms. Abe, this is a lunch meeting, is it not? It's close to noon. Please attend to these gentlemen's needs," he instructed. "Gentlemen, I will return in an hour to continue this meeting." He took Bulma's arm gently to stand her up.

"Vegeta, you can't-"

"Don't argue with me, Bulma," Vegeta said quietly, but his voice meant business. "You know you're in no condition to be here. You can hardly stand." He picked Bulma up as if she weighed nothing and addressed the men seated around the table. "Please excuse the interruption, gentlemen. Ms. Abe will see to providing you lunch." He cradled the ailing woman against his chest and carried her from the room.

The meeting attendees were silent for a moment. "Well. I can't say that's ever happened before," one commented.

***

Vegeta reappeared in the hallway and went into Bulma's bedroom. Turning down the blanket, sat her on the bed. He took off her shoes and was about to lay her down and cover her up when he looked at the fitted business suit she was wearing. ~She won't be comfortable in these garments.~ As gently as possible, he unbuttoned her jacket and slipped it off, putting it over the back of a nearby chair. He inhaled; this was the part he didn't- but so very much did- want to do. "Stand up for a moment, Bulma," he directed softly, helping her up.

Bulma offered no resistance as he undid the button on her skirt and unzipped it, pulling it down her legs. He then hooked his fingers under the waist of her pantyhose, peeling them off. She noticed him momentarily biting his bottom lip as he did so. He sat her down on the bed and knelt before her. He reached forward to unbutton her blouse and paused, looking up at her.

"Are you all right?"

She nodded. "Thank you, Vegeta."

"You're welcome," he murmured as he began to remove the blouse, trying to think of something, anything, other than what treasures were hidden beneath the silky fabric. "So, tell me where you were at with the presentation." He slipped the blouse down her arms. "I've heard you discussing this with your father, so I pretty much know what you want to say."

"Are you sure you want to do this?"

Vegeta looked up at her. "You know that I would do anything for you, Bulma."

"I know." She sighed. "I explained how the machine worked and how it would be beneficial to not only commercial use, but eventually private consumers as well. How clean and efficient it is, that sort of thing," Bulma murmured. "I was about to get into distribution, the contract, and costs when you came in."

"All right." Vegeta paused. She sat before him in only her bra and panties. He suppressed a gulp as he opened a dresser drawer and pulled out a nightshirt. "Can you finish by yourself, or would you like me to help you?"

"Help me." Her voice was little more than a whisper.

~Kami, help me,~ he silently prayed as he leaned over and reached behind her to unhook her bra and slide it down her arms. Keeping his eyes fixed on the wall behind her, he slipped the shirt over her head. "Can you get your arms through?"

"I think so. Thanks, Veg. For everything," she whispered, sliding her arms though the armholes of the shirt.

~She must really be sick if she isn't putting up a fight about this.~ "You're welcome. Now, try to get some sleep," he directed, tucking her under the covers and draping the rest of her clothes neatly across the chair. "I'll be back once the meeting is over with some soup for you. I'll get you some water before I go." He headed for the bathroom to get it.

"Okay." Exhausted, Bulma closed her eyes and was asleep almost immediately. When Vegeta came back, he set the water down on her nightstand. He was about to leave when he paused, then leaned down to place a gentle kiss on her forehead.

***

"Nuiko, is this the contract?"

"Yes, that's it," she responded with a nod. She gave Vegeta a look of appreciation. "I have to tell you that you certainly clean up wonderfully."

"Hmph." Vegeta did look quite handsome in his business attire but scowled as he perused the contract in his hand. "I look like an idiot in this stupid suit," he complained sourly. He sighed, deciding to swallow his pride for Bulma's sake. He couldn't screw this up. "Nuiko, would you mind, well, reading this to me?" he asked, a slight blush covering his cheeks.

"Sure, no problem," she assured him, taking the papers. "It is rather small print."

Vegeta turned a little redder. This was becoming quite a sore subject for him. "No, that's not the problem. I, uhm..."

"Oh," she said quietly, understanding hitting her. She pulled up a chair and indicated that he should sit down.

Vegeta was grateful that she was gracious enough to spare him any further embarrassment by saying nothing more and simply going over the document with him. He listened carefully as she read.

"That's it," Nuiko told him after she'd finished. "The two whose names are listed here will sign for Energy Technologies where the yellow flags are on these three pages. I can witness their signatures. Capsule Corp signs where the blue flags are." She eyed Vegeta contemplatively. "Have either Bulma or Dr. Briefs authorized you to sign in behalf of Capsule Corp?" she asked.

"No," Vegeta answered, surprised that she asked. He'd never been directly involved in Capsule Corp business before this. "No, neither of them has, but I think they authorized my son."

"That's all right. We can just take it to Bulma to sign later. It's not like she's going anywhere today." Nuiko laughed. "You're all set, Vegeta."

"Thank you," he told her quietly. "Will you be here if I need any revisions made?"

"Sure. I'll stay as late as you need," she assured him. "Kami knows I have more than enough to do." She smiled and handed the papers back to him. "It's been an hour. Perfect timing."

Vegeta nodded. "You should take lunch while I'm in there," he suggested. "And before you object, Bulma Junior, voice mail will catch any calls just fine."

Nuiko couldn't help but laugh. "All right, all right. I'll be back in an hour." She smiled again. "Knock 'em dead in there."

He smirked, knowing it was just a silly Earth euphemism she was using, but a good one nonetheless. "I fully intend to."

***

Vegeta opened the conference room door and went inside, shutting it behind him. The light conversation between the men seated around the table quieted as they watched him come in and stand at the head of the table. "Good afternoon, gentlemen," he began, the training he'd received as a young boy in his father's court kicking in. "Thank you for your patience. I trust everyone has been served an adequate meal?"

There was a general consensus around the table and so Vegeta began his presentation. "Very good. I am Vegeta, and I will be offering the remainder of this presentation in behalf of Ms. Briefs." He laid the papers on the highly polished table. "Now, it is my understanding that Ms. Briefs has already explained the concept and benefits of this equipment to you, is this correct?"

"That is correct, Mr. Vegeta," one of the men responded. "We are definitely interested in your product and had been just about to discuss costs and the terms of the agreement when Ms. Briefs left ill."

Vegeta nodded. "Good. I am glad to hear it. However, I am not certain that I am completely comfortable with these terms and would like to request that we consider modifying them somewhat."

The businessmen eyed each other skeptically; what was this man doing? "Young man, I do not believe that you fully understand the gravity of this situation. We are a major energy production corporation and our choice of equipment is between Capsule Corp's design and another company's. We highly prefer the quality of the design of this one; in fact, it is quite ingenious," the man informed him.

Vegeta smiled and sat down at the table. "Not a surprise when you consider the designer."

"Agreed," the man continued. "So, please consider Ms. Briefs' hard work on these negotiations before being too quick to make any rash decisions."

"I thank you for your advice, Mr..."

"Mochizuki."

"Mr. Mochizuki, but I have very thoughtfully considered my proposal and I am sure that once you hear it, you will appreciate the extremity of its value to the community." Vegeta folded his hands.

***

Nuiko looked up as the conference room door opened, loud laughter coming from inside as the group of men exited. She almost gaped at what she saw.

Vegeta was right in the middle of the group, smiling from ear to ear and shaking hands with the different attendees of the meeting.

This was Vegeta? Vegeta, Prince Grumpy Extraordinaire himself, who would break the machines that Bulma made for him and come complaining about it a couple times a week? She'd heard that since his return from space his behavior had improved drastically, but she hadn't seen him in a while and it was still a bit of a shock to her system how utterly different he was acting.

"Well, Mr. Mochizuki, I must say it's been a pleasure doing business with you." Vegeta shook the older man's hand.

"Likewise. That's a good strong handshake you've got there, young man," Mr. Mochizuki commented.

"I make a point of it. A good handshake should not feel like a limp dead fish," Vegeta commented, earning himself another laugh from the other man. "Ms. Abe, Mr. Mochizuki has made some corrections to this document. Would you incorporate the changes and reprint the document, please?" He handed the marked up contract to her.

Nuiko's eyebrow rose; he had majorly changed the agreement. "Of course," she said smoothly. "Not a… problem…"

Vegeta almost laughed but held it in. Her expression as she stared at the contract was absolutely priceless. "Thank you, Nuiko. Mr. Mochizuki will sign before he leaves if you think you can have it ready shortly."

"Yes, it should only take a minute," she responded, still disbelieving what she was seeing. Had Vegeta actually negotiated this? She wondered how Bulma would react.

"So, Mr. Vegeta. It seems that you know Ms. Briefs quite well," one of Mr. Mochizuki's associates commented.

Vegeta nodded. "Yes, that's correct."

The man leaned in. "I must say that I'm extremely curious as to what your association with her is. You're not one of her regular partners, are you? I don't recall Ms. Briefs mentioning you during our conversations in regard to this project."

Caught off guard by the question, Vegeta's face momentarily took on its normal tabula rasa expression as the room fell silent, the only sounds being the clicking noises from Nuiko's keyboard as she typed. Everyone was waiting to hear his answer; evidently they had all been wondering the same thing. What could he say? He couldn't and wouldn't lie, but would the nature of his relationship with Bulma affect the way they felt about this business transaction? It shouldn't, as Bulma's being a single mother hadn't prevented them from negotiations with Capsule Corp, but he knew how fickle people could be and couldn't help but feel a little anxious. He could not ruin this business relationship for either Bulma or Capsule Corp. "No, I am not a partner of this project. I am her son's father," he answered in a neutral tone of voice, maintaining his composure.

"Ah." A slow smirk covered the man's face. "That makes a lot of sense, actually. You seemed quite, shall I say, protective of her."

~Perhaps this one is testing me.~ Vegeta allowed a slow smile of his own. "Would you not be, if you were in my shoes?"

The man laughed. "Touché, Mr. Vegeta," he responded. "Well spoken."

Vegeta hadn't realized that he'd been holding his breath until he began to breathe again. Normally a mere human wouldn't intimidate him in the least, but thoughts of Bulma, and only Bulma, made him put as much effort into this as possible. "Thank you, Mr. Ohayashi."

Mr. Mochizuki nodded and made a small sound of approval; although it was common knowledge that Bulma was currently dating Hiroshi, this young man was evidently still devoted to her well being- made clear when he'd insisted that she go home earlier that day- and Capsule Corp's. That being the case, he had the distinct feeling that Vegeta hadn't done this for his own benefit, and found himself duly impressed. "I will sign your contract, Mr. Vegeta, as soon as it is ready."

"I have it, Mr. Mochizuki," Nuiko responded, picking it up from the printer.

Before she could give it to him, Vegeta spoke up. "Please review the changes with us one final time, Ms. Abe, so we can make certain that everything has been appropriately incorporated as required," he requested.

~Good call, Prince Vegeta, very good call,~ Nuiko thought with admiration at his cleverness. She realized that while Vegeta didn't necessarily expect Mr. Mochizuki to try to pull a fast one on him, since Vegeta couldn't read everything that was printed, he'd have even more difficulty with handwriting. Additionally, since Mr. Mochizuki had wanted to record the changes himself, by using the phrase 'appropriately incorporated,' Vegeta was indirectly passing doubt of anything being incorrect onto her instead of Mr. Mochizuki. Therefore, going over the document verbally instead of checking it over himself before handing it over to be signed would avoid that same uncomfortable feeling as one got when counting the money someone just gave them while the payer was still present, thus signifying trust in Mr. Mochizuki and implying evidence of his honesty.

"Certainly, Mr. Vegeta," she responded cheerfully, and began to read.

***

"Hey, did you miss me?" Vegeta murmured softly as he lifted his crying son from his crib. "Daddy wasn't home to play with you tonight- phew, boy. You're stinky." He laid the now happy baby on his changing table and began changing his soiled diaper.

"Da-ee!" VJ kicked his fat little legs and decided to chew on one fist, burbling contentedly to himself. Vegeta sighed when his son began to squirm and tried to roll over onto his tummy.

"Vegeta, you're not making this very easy on me, you know," he informed the carefree child, gently laying his son back down on his back. "You would much rather run around butt naked, wouldn't you?"

The baby pulled his fist from his mouth and gave his father a huge grin as Vegeta snapped the legs of the boy's pajamas back shut.

"Of course you would. But then you'd be leaving turds all over the entire house, smelly boy." Vegeta used a wipe on his hands and picked the giggling boy up. "Let's go see if Mama is feeling any better."

"Mama!" VJ exclaimed, clapping his hands together.

"Mmm-hmm. We'll see if she's awake." Bulma's door was partway open and he could hear voices. "It sounds like it, doesn't it?" Vegeta asked his son, rapping against the door frame lightly. "Bulma?"

"Come in," Bulma said, her voice barely more than a whisper.

He entered the room, only to see Hiroshi already there. "Hey, Bulma. Good evening, Hiroshi," he forced himself to acknowledge the man politely. It would only upset Bulma if he didn't.

"Hmph." Hiroshi didn't even bother to look his direction. Not that Vegeta actually cared.

"Hiroshi..." Bulma objected in a tired voice. "You look nice, Vegeta. How did it go?"

"You shouldn't be talking," Vegeta objected. "You sound terrible."

"I feel terrible," she confirmed miserably. "I have these," she said, indicating a couple prescription bottles on her night stand, "but it'll probably be a couple days before I start to feel better."

Vegeta set their son down on a big overstuffed pillow on the bed and gave him a toy to play with that had been on Bulma's nightstand. He leaned over her and felt her forehead. "You're burning up, Woman," he murmured. "Let me see your hands."

"Okay..." Bulma didn't know why Vegeta wanted to see her hands, but complied anyway and held them out to him.

He took them and looked into her eyes. Momentarily she felt a sensation come over her that she'd only felt from him; she knew immediately what it was- his ki.

"Are you giving me-"

"Shhh. Yes," Vegeta hushed her. "Relax and take it in."

"What strange alien thing are you doing to her?" Hiroshi demanded, stepping closer.

"I'm not harming her," Vegeta retorted. "I'm offended that you would even suggest such a thing. I'm simply giving her a little of my ki." He released Bulma's hands. "Do you feel any better?"

Bulma nodded happily. "I feel like I ate part of a senzu bean," she told him, her voice still raspy from her runny nose.

"Good." Vegeta crossed his arms and eyed her as a father would his mischievous child. "I only gave you a little. I cannot fully heal you, so you still need to finish those pills from your physician and be careful not to overdo it," he counseled.

"Yes, Doctor. Hey, you could start your own practice and make a boatload of money," Bulma joked, picking up her water glass.

"Hmm. Nah. I have something even better for you," Vegeta assured her, pulling his jacket open and removing an envelope from its inner pocket.

Bulma hurriedly put the glass down. "The contract! Did Mr. Mochizuki sign it?" she asked eagerly.

"Indeed," Vegeta told her, handing her the envelope. "I've brought it home for you to sign as well. But before you do, I have to tell you that I asked for a few changes."

Bulma had been in the process of pulling the copies of the contract from the envelope when she stopped and looked up at him. "Changes? Vegeta, what... Do you have even the foggiest idea how long and hard I worked on this?" she exclaimed.

"I do," Vegeta acknowledged crisply. "I gave up the majority of my training time to watch our son all day, every day, for weeks while you were busy in meetings. Have you so little trust in me that you think I would deliberately ruin this deal for you?"

"Vegeta, you didn't even discuss this with me! How could you do this?"

"Uh oh, bad boy!" Hiroshi piped up in amusement. "Babe, I guess the stupid monkey wasn't trained well enough after all," he said, sneering at Vegeta.

Vegeta gave him a cold look that clearly told him that Hiroshi would get his.

"Hiroshi, that's not..." Bulma blinked, frowned, and looked at the papers in her hands again, up at Vegeta, then back down to the papers. Her eyes filled with tears. "If he's stupid, how I wish I were an imbecile. Vegeta, do you have any idea just what it is you've done for Capsule Corp?" she whispered, looking back up at him. She bit her bottom lip and blinked rapidly, but the tears fell anyway. "Please accept my apology for ever having doubted you." She covered her mouth with her hand. "Ten years of exclusive energy production products through Capsule Corp, with an optional five-year extension which he already signed, in case you didn't notice," she managed.

"He did?" Vegeta asked, astounded that the man would do something like that. "There are three original documents in the envelope. Perhaps it was a mistake," he mused, peering down over her shoulder.

Bulma wiped at her face with the back of her hand and shook her head. "No, they're all signed. Vegeta, I was fighting to get three years. How did you ever manage fifteen?" Her sniffles faded away into a giggle. "Kami, Vegeta! I could just kiss you!" She paused, and reached up to grab his tie, pulling him down face to face with her. Vegeta felt himself drowning in her shining blue eyes when she spoke again. "In fact, I think I will. Oh, and Hiroshi? This is also for the slur earlier."

Hiroshi frowned at her behavior. "What?" He cursed mentally as she drew Vegeta close, knowing that he was losing the battle against this hated Saiyan prince and was at a loss as to what he could do about it, other than to find a way to dispose of the man.

:Bulma...: Vegeta's mind gasped as she raised her lips to his and kissed him. :I...:

:Enjoy it, Vegeta. You deserve it,: hers whispered back. :I fully intend to.: Bulma let go of his tie and pulled down on his shoulders to seat him on the bed beside her. She wrapped her arms around him and slid one hand up his back to tangle her fingers in his hair at the base of his neck.

Vegeta just managed to hold back a low moan when she deepened the kiss, stroking her tongue against his. Without conscious thought, he pulled her onto his lap and held her close as he returned the kiss, running a hand along her back.

Regretfully, Vegeta ended the kiss before he got too carried away, and quickly let her go. "I'll bring you some soup as I promised," he managed, trying to forget the brief flash of disappointment he'd seen on her face when he'd broken their kiss. "I'll take the documents back to your office tomorrow after you've signed them."

"Da-ee?" VJ said with an inquisitive tone to his voice. The perceptive little boy could sense the abrupt changes in the moods of his parents.

"All right," Bulma agreed quietly, watching him scoop up their son and leave the room. It occurred to her that Vegeta seemed unwilling to leave the boy in the same room as her boyfriend.

"Well, I do hope you enjoyed yourself," Hiroshi snapped sarcastically, interrupting her thoughts.

"As a matter of fact, I did," Bulma retorted. "You brought it upon yourself, Hiroshi. What have you got to say about that?"

He gave her a dirty look. "Fine, whatever. I'm leaving," he growled.

"Fine."

He left the room when she said nothing more and sighed wearily, leaning back against the pillows. ~I am so confused! Why doesn't Hiroshi make me feel that way? No one else has, only Vegeta. But I can't just dump Hiroshi and take Vegeta back simply because he makes me feel good. Kami, how many times must I keep going over and over this in my head?~ She ran her hand through her hair in frustration, knowing deep inside that she was ignoring the true reason she had even had the thought of taking Vegeta back into her life.

***

"There. That's much better, don't you think?" Vegeta asked his wide-eyed son as he pulled on a t-shirt and pair of shorts. "No more uncomfortable suit for Daddy." He picked up the baby and headed for the kitchen.

Vegeta experienced the inevitable rush of emotion that this child frequently seemed able to evoke in him when his son let out a sigh, then rested his little head against his father's shoulder. He stopped in the middle of the hallway to look down at his cherished son and reached up with his free hand to place it ever so gently over the baby's back. A smile played at his lips; the boy had stuck his thumb in his mouth and his tiny eyelids were drooping as he fought a losing battle against the sleepiness overcoming him.

Vegeta chuckled softly and turned his head a little further to place a feather soft kiss on his son's hair. He was about to start back down the hallway when he got the uneasy feeling that he was being watched. Turning his head, he realized that not only had Hiroshi left, but he hadn't closed Bulma's door behind him. His eyes widened briefly and he blushed, embarrassed at being caught, when he saw her blue eyes fixed intently on him; she was smiling and had obviously seen the entire display of affection between father and son.

"Here, take him while I get your soup," Vegeta murmured, entering her room and placing their son in her arms, taking care not to disturb the sleepy infant. "Do you want anything else with it?"

"You don't have to get me anything, Vegeta," Bulma told him, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed. "I'm feeling a lot better now, thanks to you."

Vegeta placed a hand on her shoulder to keep her from getting up. "No, I want you to stay in bed and rest," he insisted. "Just... just let me do this for you for once. Besides, you're caring for Vegeta," he finished hurriedly, feeling the blush returning to his face.

Bulma smiled at him, making his stomach tie into knots. "I guess I wouldn't mind a sandwich if we have any deli meat," she told him.

"No problem. I'll find something if we don't," Vegeta promised, turning to leave. He stopped when he heard her voice.

"Thanks, Vegeta. For everything," she whispered. "You've been so sweet today."

He nodded and left the room. She watched him go and settled back down beneath the covers with her baby, who yawned but snuggled back down against her. She touched the spot she'd seen Vegeta kiss their son gently. "Very sweet."

***

Vegeta picked up the dinner tray he'd prepared and carried it up the stairs. He'd made her chicken noodle soup, a turkey sandwich- which he knew was her favorite- and a pot of herbal tea. He'd also added an orange, from which he had carefully peeled every single bit of the bitter pith as he could, having watched her doing the very same thing before consuming an orange.

Bulma sat up a little straighter against the headboard when he came back in. "Wow, that looks great. Thanks, Vegeta."

"You're welcome," he responded, placing the tray on her lap and setting the teapot in his other hand on the nightstand. "Here, I'll take him so you can eat."

Bulma laid their sleeping son down on the blanket beside her. "It's all right. I haven't seen the little guy all day. Aren't you going to eat anything?" she inquired.

"I have something in the kitchen," he told her.

"Why didn't you bring it with you, silly?" Bulma asked, as if it was the most logical thing in the world. "You could have eaten up here with me, you know."

"You should get some rest," Vegeta lied. "I didn't want to keep you up."

"Vegeta, I slept all afternoon, again, thanks to you," she informed him, seeing through his excuse. "Besides, I've been in meetings all day for weeks. I wouldn't mind a little pleasant company for a change."

He opened his mouth to speak, but stopped and let out a small sigh. Bulma just rolled her eyes.

"Vegeta, unless you find being in my presence contemptible, which didn't appear to be the case just ten minutes ago, I truly would like to eat the sandwich you so graciously prepared for me with you," she informed him.

Vegeta's face softened somewhat. "Of course I don't find you contemptible. I'll be right back." He left the room, reappearing momentarily with a tray loaded with his own food. He looked around, but the only chair he could see was the one he'd draped her clothes over.

Bulma patted the bed next to her on her side opposite of their son. "Sit here," she directed. "Why didn't you use instant transmission to bring up my food?" She took a bite of her sandwich.

"Because I need a free hand to do it, which I didn't have since I was holding the teapot," Vegeta explained as he sat down next to her. "That's one of the things that sucks about instant transmission. It's not a completely mental process."

"Oh, right. I guess I hadn't thought about that. This sandwich is really good, by the way," she commented, taking another bite. "Just the way I like it."

Vegeta nodded. "Rye or wheat bread, but if it's wheat it has to be lightly toasted, with thinly sliced turkey breast, just a leaf or two of romaine, heavy on the Roma tomatoes and a little bit of Dijon mustard. Hold the mayo because you're a Miracle Whip person, which we don't have. Oh, and the soup should be the kind from the can that has the wide, curly noodles, not the one from the box with the little straight ones, and the tea needs to be either herbal with lemon and sugar or oolong." He took a bite of his own sandwich and eyed her as he chewed.

She sat gaping at him, her sandwich temporarily forgotten. "You knew all of that?" she asked in astonishment.

Vegeta nodded and shrugged his shoulders. "Sure, why not? It's not just your mother who makes lunch anymore. I do it sometimes, if I'm feeding the boys anyway." He paused for a moment. "Speaking of offspring feeding, I was going to bring some sour cream 'n' onion chips up for you but you know who ate the entire bag, and all of the Doritos, too. What a pig," he grumbled grumpily. He took another bite of his sandwich.

Bulma's astonishment turned into amusement and she laughed. "You're hilarious, you know that?"

Vegeta smiled at her. "I enjoy hearing you laugh," he told her sincerely. The intense look in his eyes made a lump form in her throat; he was looking at her as if she were the most precious thing in the universe. "It feels good to make you laugh instead of..." He trailed off, looking away, and let out a long sigh. "Bulma, I-"

"Didn't tell me how the meeting went," Bulma interrupted in an attempt to change the mood. She laid her hand on his arm gently.

Vegeta wished more than anything that he could just sweep this woman up into his arms and show her how much he cherished her right then and there. "Fine, I guess," he told her. "I assume that you read the contract while I was making our food?" He polished off his first sandwich and picked up a second one.

"Yes," she confirmed. "Well, just the part you changed. How in Kami's name did you ever get them to agree to something like that? You're not exactly, well..."

"The most charismatic person you know?" Vegeta finished for her. "You can say it. I'm certainly not offended."

Bulma blushed slightly. "Well, I was going to say socially inclined, but yeah, I guess so. Besides, you don't strike me as a salesperson type."

"No, I detest pesky salespeople." Vegeta wrinkled his nose distastefully. "Pushy vultures. I am, however, a tough negotiator. One of the things I was trained for from an early age was how to deal with and even manipulate others so I would be well prepared to be king when my father died," he told her. "I guess I haven't forgotten everything."

"No, I can't say you could have," she agreed. "What did you say?"

"I played up on the benefit of this partnership on the part of the community," he explained. "Didn't you see the part about the percentage donations? It's a bit of a gamble to start off with, since the first couple years are generating large quantity orders at the highest percentage, but it looks very good for Capsule Corp in the public arena. But I knew you knew that, since you didn't bite my head off over it." Vegeta grinned and winked at her.

"Percentage donations?" Bulma blinked absently at him. "You mean there were more changes than just the term of the contract?"

Vegeta pursed his lips. "Great." He ate a few spoonfuls of his soup.

"Percentage donations, Vegeta?" Bulma repeated. "Where was that in the contract?"

"I told them that every year a certain percentage of the gross sales would be donated to a charity of their choosing, as long as it met certain criteria," he told her. "I know it's a lot of money, but..."

"What kind of figures are we talking, Vegeta?"

"Uhm, 7.5% the first three years, 5% the next three, and 2.5% the last four." Vegeta gave her a don't-kill-me look.

"That is a lot of money," Bulma agreed. "But it's a great tax write-off and it'll get badly needed money back to the community, which is what, in part, this invention was intended to do in the first place." She giggled. "You look just like a little boy who got caught with his hand in the cookie jar and is relieved that he won't get a spanking after all," she teased.

"Hmph." Vegeta mock scowled when she continued to giggle and poked him in the side, but his scowl quickly dissipated into a smirk. "That's a pity."

Bulma giggled again. She had no doubt that he was serious and would even enjoy it if she doled out such a punishment to him. "I'm very pleased and proud of you, Veggie," she told him softly. "I could learn a lot from you."

He looked over at her. Her eyes were shining and she was smiling at him fondly. "I think you know a lot more than you give yourself credit for."

"Exactly. Same goes for you." She squeezed his bicep. "You'll see Capsule Corp's gratitude when you get your first commission check."

"Commission check?" he echoed.

Bulma's eyebrow rose. "Yes, you know, payment for a job well done? I'll make sure Daddy gives you a sweet little bonus." She grinned. "You don't think I earned my fortune by being beautiful, do you?" she teased playfully.

"You could have," Vegeta responded, pleased when she blushed. "But I don't need any money. You and your parents have already given me all I need and more. Besides, it was your contract, not mine."

Bulma looked at him in surprise. "But, Vegeta, you earned this. If you hadn't stepped in, we would have signed a comparatively very weak deal and would have made nowhere near the progress as we undoubtedly will now. You deserve to be appropriately compensated for your efforts." She shook her head. "I just couldn't have that on my conscience. If you don't want a commission check, what do you want?"

His coal black eyes burned into her blue ones with such heated passion that she couldn't help but blush furiously; any fool watching them would have had no doubt whatsoever as to what it was he desired. "I did this all for you, Bulma," he told her in a low, husky voice. "Not for your father, or for Capsule Corp, or even for the community. Only you."

Bulma felt herself being drawn to him like a moth to a flame. "I... Vegeta..." Their lips were just a couple of inches apart.

"If you are that insistent about this commission, then I would like to receive it in the form of stock," Vegeta continued in the same deep voice. "Is that a possibility?"

"I- I'm not sure. I mean, yes, it's possible, but I don't know about you," she stammered, her pulse racing. Vegeta was so close, and his lips had felt so good on hers.

"What do you mean, you're not sure about me?" Vegeta asked.

"We're privately owned, so Capsule Corp stock isn't available to the public. You have to be an employee for at least six months in order to receive commission in the form of stock." Bulma averted her eyes and sat back, then drew in a deep breath. "I'll give you employee status so we can pay you a commission, that's no problem. I'll have to ask the board about waiving the six month waiting period, though, since Daddy isn't here to give his approval to do it."

Vegeta regretted the sudden loss of closeness to the blue-haired woman but managed to hold in his disappointment. It was better this way, anyway; if they had stayed that close for much longer, he undoubtedly would have kissed her again, and he already had a strong desire to guide her down onto the mattress and remove their clothing... "I see," he managed. "That's not a problem. If it can't be done, I want you to take the commission as stock and divide it between our son and grandson."

Bulma's face softened. "Vegeta, what a wonderful gesture," she told him softly.

He shrugged. "I've got to be good for something, right?"

"Don't say that," Bulma chastised gently. "Deny it all you want, but you're a good man, Vegeta. You have no idea how drastically and completely you've changed my life, do you? You've given me the greatest gift I could ever possibly want." She rested her hand on their son's sleeping form. "Thank you," she whispered, leaning over to kiss him gently.

It was a quick, chaste little kiss, but Vegeta couldn't help but be affected by it nonetheless. "Any time."

Bulma smiled, a tiny blush spreading across her cheeks. Again she didn't doubt that he was serious. "Could you grab that binder for me, please?" She pointed to a large black binder on her dresser.

"Sure," Vegeta agreed, getting up for a moment to grab it. He handed it to her and sat back down.

"Thanks. I keep all sorts of useful stuff in here. You never know what you'll need at any given time," Bulma explained, opening it up and leafing through its contents. "Ah, here we go." She pulled a document several pages long out of a plastic sleeve and handed it to him. "This is an employment agreement. I'm sure there's nothing you wouldn't be okay with, but just read it over, then fill out the last page and sign it so I can get the ball rolling for you."

He hesitated, then took it from her and looked down at it. His stomach twisted; as he had suspected, the document was composed entirely in the multitude of symbols that this planet used to scribe the Western Standard language. He could probably have made some of it out had it been written in Eastern characters, as he could read several other Earth languages, but this? It would be like asking her to read Saiyan. He set the document down and sighed quietly.

Bulma frowned. "Vegeta, what's wrong?"

"I- I can't."

"Can't what? It's just standard mumbo-jumbo for legal purposes. No big deal," Bulma assured him.

He turned away slightly, feeling his face grow hot. This was what he hadn't wanted her of all people to find out. He should have known that she would sooner than later. "I don't mind signing this," he assured her. "I mean I can't read Western, Bulma," he confessed in a small voice. "Maybe some of it if it were written with Eastern letters instead of these symbols, but..."

Bulma felt her heart ache as he spoke. Even the back of his neck and his ears had gone red. Vegeta was obviously humiliated by his confession; he spoke numerous languages fluently and would consider an inability such as not being able to read those same languages to be a weakness, especially if certain people found out. She was probably near the top of the list, if not right at it. "Vegeta, I- I'm sorry," she stammered. "You speak Western so fluently that I never would have guessed otherwise." She placed a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry. I never meant to embarrass you."

"I know," came his tired response. "You couldn't have known."

"Vegeta, look at me," she requested. He shifted uncomfortably but didn't turn around. "Vegeta, please. I don't want to talk to the back of your head."

He realized the underlying meaning of her statement- he'd haughtily turned his back to her many times in the past when she'd tried to talk to him and he hadn't wanted to listen, and it had hurt her. He turned around to face her. "I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to ignore you."

"It's all right, Vegeta," Bulma said softly. "It's nothing to be ashamed of." She took his hand and squeezed it gently. "Tell you what. I'll teach you, if you'll teach me Saiyan."

He looked at her with surprise. "You... you want to learn Saiyan?"

She nodded. "Of course I do. Don't you remember how I agreed that it was important that our son learn it and that I didn't want to be left behind? Eventually I'd like to learn Gerdian, too." She squeezed his hand again, closing her free hand around it as well. "So, do we have a deal?" she asked softly.

He graced her with the tiniest beginnings of a smile. "Sure." He returned the squeeze gently. "There's nothing I wouldn't do for you, Bulma." He reached up to cup her cheek with his free hand, stroking it with his thumb.

She found herself drowning in his dark eyes as their faces slowly drew closer together. Their eyes drooped closed, their lips touched, and he kissed her softly, enveloping her in his arms, holding her close. She returned the kiss, sliding her arms around him.

The kiss had grown a little more intense when the phone rang, interrupting them. Bulma pulled away reluctantly. "It's Daddy. I- I should probably answer that," she whispered, her cheeks flushing pink. "Hi, Daddy! Good..."

Vegeta gave her a little smile. It was just as well that it happened; his desire to make love to her had only gotten stronger when her arms had wrapped around him. He got up and waved a quick goodbye to her and bent down to scoop up their son.

"Hold on a second, Daddy." Bulma took the phone away from her ear and covered it with her hand. "Don't go yet," she told him. "I want to get his okay for your commission." She raised the phone again. "Daddy, Vegeta's in here. I have something to ask you for him, so I'm going to put you on the speaker phone, okay?" She pressed a button and set the phone back into its cradle. "Can you hear me, Daddy?"

"Loud and clear, Pumpkin. Hey there, Vegeta."

"I hope you're having a pleasant trip, Shatsu," Vegeta responded, cradling the baby in the crook of one arm.

"Indeed we are! Thank you for asking. It's just beautiful here. Too bad it's for a conference, eh?" Dr. Briefs responded jovially. "So, what did you have to ask me, Bulma?"

"As you can probably tell from listening to me, I caught a nasty sinus infection right before I was supposed to go to the meeting to sign the contract with Energy Technologies," she told him. "Typical, huh?" She paused as her father chuckled dryly in agreement. "Anyway, Vegeta made me go home."

"Go home?" Dr. Briefs echoed. "Vegeta, Bulma's health is important to me as well, but I hope you realize just how hard she has been working on this project."

"Daddy, it's okay," Bulma reassured him. "He knows about the equipment and went in my place."

Dr. Briefs was silent for a moment. "Really?" He sounded surprised.

"Bulma was ill, and I was taught how to negotiate in my father's court. It's no big deal." Vegeta felt a little odd speaking into the air, but just shrugged it off. "They signed it, anyway."

Bulma gave him an amused look. No big deal. Wouldn't she love to come up with a few more no big deals! "Yeah, he did a great job. Anyway, I told him we'd give him employee status so we could pay him a commission, but he doesn't want the money."

"I'd like stock, instead." Vegeta's statement obviously was not meant to ask if that was an option. "But Bulma says that there is a waiting period before that can happen."

"You want stock instead?" Dr. Briefs found himself surprised a second time, not only by Vegeta's request but by the fact that his daughter wanted to give him a commission when he simply got the contract she'd worked up signed for her. "Well, Bulma is correct when she told you new employees don't typically qualify, but considering the employee, I'll talk to the board about waiving that requirement." He chuckled. "Huh. I never expected that you'd want Capsule stock, Vegeta, but I have to admit that I was quite impressed by your portfolio when you showed it to me. Even though it's relatively small right now, it should pan out nicely for you eventually. Maybe you should be a financial advisor."

"Uhm, thanks," Vegeta mumbled, giving Bulma a sheepish little smile when she turned to gape at him. He'd bought some stock on a whim and decided that he'd enjoy the challenge of determining the right ones to buy at the right time and in the right quantities. While he certainly hadn't had them long, they'd actually already gained a little, fueling his drive to continue watching the market. He had not, however, told Bulma of any of this.

"Portfolio?" Bulma repeated. "As in stocks and bonds?"

"And a few nice mutual funds... Wait a minute. Did I let out a cat I didn't know was still in the bag?" Dr. Briefs asked hesitantly.

"Just a little kitty, Shatsu. No lions," Vegeta told him. "No problem."

"All right then. Grab a pen and I'll give you the fax number here. Send me over the forms and I'll sign them and a waiver notice," Dr. Briefs instructed.

"Okay, go ahead," Bulma told him, grabbing a piece of paper from her binder and jotting down the number. "Okay, I'll fax it over now. Thanks Daddy. Give Mom a kiss for me."

"Will do, Pumpkin. Bye, Vegeta. Thanks for your help today."

"You're welcome," Vegeta responded.

The connection ended and Bulma reached over to turn off the phone. "You invested in stock?"

Vegeta shrugged casually. "Yeah, a little here, a little there. I think your father was just surprised that I would bother."

"I'm surprised that you would bother," Bulma exclaimed. She couldn't help but wonder where he even got the funds to do it. As far as she was aware, he'd only done a small job or two for Dr. Ueda. It wasn't as though that kind of thing would bring in a significant enough amount of money to build a decent stock portfolio. "How much did you invest?"

"Oh, two or three bajillion zeni. You know, pocket change. How much are you worth, Bulma?" Vegeta countered.

Bulma blushed slightly. "You're right, Veg. I'm sorry I was nosy."

"It's okay," he assured her. "Besides, I suppose most people's first thought would be 'where does a guy with no income get money for stocks, anyway?', don't you think?" He grinned when her blush returned. "Hey, don't worry about it. Being nosy is only human nature, right?"

Bulma scowled and made a disgruntled noise. "You snot." She smacked him on the arm he was not using to hold their son.

"Oh? I'm not the one with a drippy nose," Vegeta said, laughing when she made the noise again. "You're beautiful when you're angry," he informed her.

She couldn't help but blush still again. "Liar. I look terrible and you know it."

"I've never seen you look terrible. Not even in the morning when you'd have bed head and no makeup on. My first thought was always to grab you and..." Vegeta trailed off, averting his eyes. He sighed. "I suppose we should send the papers your father asked for."

"I suppose," Bulma agreed quietly. She would never forget the look in his eyes on the days he didn't get up early to train. She'd wake up to find him lying on his side watching her, a hungry look on his face as his eyes roved over her body, only to be quickly replaced by his hands and his mouth... She felt herself growing flushed and quickly tried to shake the memory from her mind. "There's a fax machine in my lab. We can do it there." She blushed. "Uhm, fax the stuff..."

"I know what you meant," Vegeta responded softly. He held out his hand. "I'll teleport you there."

"Thanks." She took his hand and was suddenly in the main lab. "I'll never cease to be amazed by that."

Vegeta nodded. "It's an amazing technique," he agreed, letting go of her hand.

She walked over to the fax and stuck the papers her father had requested into the feed tray. "You know, I think I'll send him the contract, too. That should brighten his day." She winked and dialed the number.

Vegeta watched as the papers were drawn through the machine one by one. "He will receive them where he is now?"

Bulma nodded. "It uses a phone line to send the signals just as if we were speaking over the phone." She stepped back. "I guess all we do is wait for him to sign them and send them back."

"Okay." Vegeta looked down at the baby slumbering in his arms, not knowing what else to say.

The room was quiet for a moment except for the sound of the transmission. "Vegeta?"

"Hmm?"

"Will you watch a movie with me?"

"I suppose. Does it have to be, how did you put it, a 'chick flick?' "

Bulma laughed. The expression sounded so funny coming from his mouth. "No, I promise it won't be a chick flick. In fact, I'll even let you choose. How about that?"

"Okay. Shall we?" He held out his hand.

She took it. "Let's."

***

"Want some?"

Bulma looked up from her son to Vegeta, who was holding an enormous bowl of popcorn. "Sure, thanks. Why don't you just pull the coffee table a little closer and put it there? Then we could both reach it."

"That'll work- oh. Sorry." Vegeta turned his head, having gotten an eyeful of her nursing the baby.

Bulma shrugged. "For what? It's not like you've never seen me nurse him before." ~Not to mention the number of times he's seen me naked...~

"I know, but, well..." Vegeta sighed and sat down on the couch with her, keeping his eyes straight ahead. "Things are different now," he mumbled, pointing the remote at the television.

Bulma detected the regret he was unable to keep out of his voice. "Vegeta, I... I'm sorry."

Many of the movie titles were also listed in Eastern Standard and he noticed one he had been wanting to see. "How about this one?" Vegeta selected a movie on demand on the screen.

"That's fine," she agreed, adjusting her shirt and raising their son to rest on her shoulder. She patted the little back gently.

"All right." Vegeta ordered the movie and put the remote down. "Bulma?"

"Yeah?"

"Me, too."

"I know."

Just as the opening scene started, the phone rang. "I'll bet that's Daddy," Bulma exclaimed, grabbing it from the coffee table. "Hi, Dad-"

Vegeta could hear the normally soft spoken doctor's voice coming excitedly from the receiver from where he sat and couldn't help but crack a grin at the contorted expression on Bulma's face as she pulled it away from her ear slightly.

"Daddy, I- wait a minute- Daddy?" She propped the phone against her other shoulder and held VJ out to Vegeta. "Can you take him?" she asked silently before going back to her conversation.

Vegeta leaned over to take his son, who had begun to whimper and wriggle in Bulma's grasp. "Of course," he whispered, resting back down with his knees up and his head against the cushioned arm of the couch. "Come and see Daddy for a while," he murmured softly to the boy, situating him against his shoulder and patting his back.

"Da-ee," VJ cooed, taking a fistful of his father's hair in one hand and sticking the other thumb in his mouth. Vegeta felt himself melt at the sound of the little voice and the feeling of the small, warm body snuggling up against him. He smiled, pulling his knees closer to his chest.

"Yes, he's right here. No, that's just a movie we were watching. Sorry, I know it's kind of loud. I'll turn it down." Bulma picked up the remote control and lowered the volume. "No, I have no idea. You know I negotiated with them for weeks!" She looked over to Vegeta. "Daddy says spectacular job, Vegeta, and wants to know just what it was that you did to get this contract."

"I asked for it," Vegeta responded cryptically.

Bulma sat gaping at him. "What...?"

"I asked for it," Vegeta repeated. "I told Mr. Mochizuki that while you had done an excellent job on the creation of the product, the terms you'd negotiated were clearly insufficient, given the intended purpose of the invention. Some more comprehensive stipulations were necessary if all entities involved were to benefit. So, they asked me what I had in mind, and I told them. And our son just threw up on me." Vegeta raised the baby up to look at him. "You just made a mess on Daddy," he told the child accusingly.

VJ laughed happily, squirming in his father's hands.

"Well, I'm glad somebody's happy about it," he teased the infant. "Now, are you going to keep the rest down or puke that up too?"

"Da-ee!"

Vegeta sighed, but couldn't keep from smiling. The boy was so happy all of the time.

***

Bulma laid her son in his crib and pulled the blanket over him. She leaned down to place a kiss on his forehead and crept out of the nursery.

"All set," she announced as she sat back down on the couch opposite Vegeta.

Vegeta grunted in the affirmative, his mouth full of popcorn. "He was running around the whole house in that contraption your mother bought him and causing trouble all day. I'm not surprised that he's tired."

Bulma giggled. "He really likes the walker," she agreed. "I don't think they're very safe, though. I probably won't keep it long."

Vegeta nodded. "He's already pulling himself around using the furniture. He'll be walking on his own before you know it."

Bulma smiled. "I'm sure he will. He's growing up so fast. He's hardly a baby anymore," she said soberly. She'd had to sacrifice a lot of time normally spent with her son because of all of the meetings she'd had to attend, and it bothered her tremendously.

A slow smile spread over Vegeta's face. "Well... we could always make another one," he commented casually.

Bulma nearly choked on her popcorn. "Vegeta! I..." She blushed furiously. "You know I'm with Hiroshi. Why would you suggest such a thing?" she sputtered.

"Because I meant it," he told her seriously, "and because your boyfriend has made it clear that he detests children. I wouldn't expect anything from him in that respect."

Bulma pursed her lips. "I'm not comfortable discussing my relationship with Hiroshi with you," she retorted, ignoring the fact that he was right. "I really don't think it's any of anyone's business."

Vegeta reached for the remote and shut off the television. "Excuse me, Bulma, but I am forced to disagree with you. Your relationship with that man is poor at best and his behavior is intolerable. You can't honestly tell me that you haven't noticed how degrading he is to your family and friends, even if you conveniently choose to forget about how he treats you like less than garbage."

Bulma's face turned red. He was just jealous, just trying to get her to break up with Hiroshi so he could get back together with her. "How dare you, Vegeta?" she shouted, grateful that no one else was around to hear them. "You weren't exactly Prince Charming to me yourself, you know. You hurt me more deeply than I ever thought anyone could, and I spent a lot of sleepless nights crying over you while you did your own thing in space."

"We have gone through this already, Bulma," Vegeta told her tersely. "I have told you that I was wrong to treat you the way I did, and that I regret that more than anything I have ever done in my life. I have tried to be a better man, to be the kind of man I should have been to you, but you are so blinded by your boyfriend's pretty words that you cannot see that-"

"Hiroshi actually cares about how I feel and what I think," Bulma interrupted angrily. "He enjoys doing things with me that make me happy. It was like pulling hen's teeth to get you to go anywhere or do anything with me, so quit acting so self-righteous and trying to put Hiroshi down!" In the back of her mind she knew he was right, but didn't like feeling cornered the way she did, especially by Vegeta.

Vegeta got up from the couch. "I refuse to listen to this any longer," he rasped out between gritted teeth. "I do care, Bulma, and I cannot understand how you can consciously ignore everything he does. Since my opinion obviously means less than nothing to you, it is pointless to continue this conversation." He headed for the door.

"Oh, that's just fine," Bulma snapped. "Go on, leave. Walk out on me again, like you always have. So what else is new?"

He turned to look at her, red and visibly shaking with contained anger, before continuing on out of the room. If he said anything else it would only make the problem worse.

Bulma picked up the remote and threw it the direction he'd gone, then dropped her face into her hands and started to cry in hurt and frustration. Why did it always have to come to this with Vegeta? How could he claim to be trying to be a better person when he kept on doing and saying such hurtful things? She grabbed a tissue and wiped at her face. He'd been so sweet, so amazing earlier. Now he was just being an absolute jerk.

***

Vegeta staggered over to his bed as the room tilted again and flopped down heavily onto it. The empty whiskey bottle slipped from his grasp and clattered to the floor, but he paid it no heed. Everything he'd done that day had been for her and only her, but his efforts didn't matter to her. Add to that the fact that once again, his attempts to show her how he really felt and that he truly meant it had backfired on him. It was hardly worth the effort just to be continuously shot down in favor of her disgraceful boyfriend. There was a part of him that wished he hadn't said anything about Hiroshi, but the rest of him knew it had to be said.

He sighed and rested a hand over his aching head. He couldn't keep doing this to himself. But it was an escape from reality, if only temporary, that he desperately needed- that is, until the next time he did something for her, and only her.