Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Whatever It Takes ❯ Chapter 20

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

AN: I apologize for the long delay between chapters. For a quick overview of where I've been, check out my FFN profile. Thanks to all of you who have stuck with me during the wait.

Incidentally, I have no idea if the thing with the fangs is canon or not (I seriously doubt it) or if it's ever been used before (I would bet money on it), but for the purposes of this story I have decided to chalk it up as A Saiyan Thing. Just like how I am going to chalk up my spell checker changing 'sportscar' to 'sport scar' when I did a final check before posting Chapter 19 to the It Figures category. Just something else to accept.

I also don't know if my explanation of the heart virus that Goku got and what exactly it does to a Saiyan is correct either but, as before, for the purposes of this story let's just pretend it is.

In this chapter you will see some even bigger events begin to unfold. Trust me. You will also catch the first titular line of this fic. You don't need to trust me this time. It's there. Read on. Don't forget to review!

Special thanks to my husband for reading this for me, as he always faithfully does.

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 Twenty

Bulma looked down at Vegeta's prone form and fought back tears. She loved and cared deeply for every Saiyan she knew, and watching them all suffer and slowly die horrible, painful deaths was killing her inside. Losing her best friend to this virus had been bad enough. Losing her baby had been even worse. But this... watching Vegeta, the man who would always hold a special place in her heart, the man who she would always love, waste away like this truly was devastating to her. It not a good time, she knew, but it had to be done now. There was no time to wait.

The heart monitor beeped slower than it should have been but steadily. Vegeta's condition had improved slightly since she had given him the serum she'd created, but she had the unsettling feeling that it had been too little too late and prayed to Dende that she was wrong. After all, Vegeta was still alive, even though he was on life support, and the serum had destroyed the virus in both his and Gohan's systems, but it could not heal the damage that it had already wreaked upon their bodies. Fighting the androids had only exacerbated the problem; the virus resided in the heart and seemed to feed on a Saiyan's ki, doubly harming the heart by forcing it to work harder to compensate. The additional stress put upon their bodies from the extreme physical activity of fighting had further weakened their hearts, especially Vegeta's, considerably. Since Saiyans didn't get sick the way humans did, by the time he'd admitted that there was something wrong and he wasn't just overly fatigued- during which time he'd been hard on himself by forcing himself to work even harder- the damage had already been done.

She caught herself rubbing a hand over her swollen belly and turned away from the bed holding the man occupying her thoughts, the tears she'd been fighting back escaping from her eyes. Biting her lip, she hastily gathered the things she needed. She knew that no matter what she did, nothing could change what had already taken place here, but just as Geta had drawn comfort from coming back in time to warn them of the androids, she too found comfort in going back in time herself to inoculate the people she loved most who had been killed by this horrible virus. Maybe, just maybe, they could benefit by knowing about the virus as she had by knowing about the androids before they had attacked. "I'm going now, Geta," she told her son in a trembling voice.

"Are you sure about this, Mother? I would be happy to go for you," Geta offered.

Bulma shook her head. "You know that I'm the only one besides your father who knows enough about the this serum and the computer program to administer the proper dosage," she objected. "If you don't give them enough, it won't work. If you give them too much, it'll... it'll..."

"Kill them," Geta finished emotionlessly, voicing the words she couldn't bring herself to say.

Bulma nodded, wiping at her face with the back of her hand. "Besides, the serum will only be viable for one more day, maybe a day and a half," she whispered. "I have to go now, despite how your father will react."

Geta nodded, hugging his mother gently. "Be careful," he told her. "I love you, Mother, and I'm so proud of you."

"Thanks, Sweetie," she whispered, hugging him back. "I love you, too."

***

Bulma hauled herself out of the time pod and re-encapsulated it. ~I definitely hadn't designed that thing with extremely pregnant women in mind,~ she mused mentally. She gathered up her courage and made her way up to the house.

Before she could get there, however, the door burst open and Geta rushed out. Evidently, he'd seen the flash of the pod or sensed the rift in the stream of time when it arrived. That didn't surprise her; he of all people would know what that felt like. Slack-jawed, he blinked and shook his head. "M-Mother?" he asked incredulously. His eyes were glued to her enormous belly.

"Now you know how I felt when you showed up," she joked, trying desperately to stay calm. "But I have to do something important, and it has to be done now. Where is everyone?"

"Uhm, Father is training, you and Anya are shopping and the kids are sleeping," he mumbled, still shocked by the sudden appearance of another version of his mother, who, judging by the, well, shape of her, was from the future. "Gramps and Gram are at a conference."

"You need to call Anya and me and get them back here ASAP, as well as the Sons," she instructed. "Also, get your father and the boys, and meet me in the lab. Do it now. I'll set up my things while you do that."

Seeing the resolute look on her face, Geta decided not to press the issue and just do as he was told. "Okay, I'll get right on it," he agreed, guiding her into the house. "Are you all right? Do you need anything?"

Bulma gave him a lopsided grin. "I'm pregnant, Son, not disabled. I'll grab myself a quick snack and head down to the lab. Now, go. This is serious."

Geta disappeared, and she headed for the kitchen. Hopefully she could get what she really wanted without being caught. She opened the fridge and pulled out a familiar container; sure enough, it contained the little pieces of raw meat that Vegeta would feed their son. Taking one last surreptitious glance over her shoulder, she ate a few of bites of it, hoping the cravings she'd been experiencing would subside. She'd been so absorbed in her rush to leave that she'd neglected to eat anything before she left.

She shoved the container back into the fridge and grabbed a plate, filling it with food before rushing down to her lab.

***

"So, what was so important that you had to drag us all back in here?" Vegeta complained, crossing his arms irritably. "You know I haven't had the chance to train all week." His sensitivities were still stinging from the last blow dealt to them by Bulma, and he was determined that he would no longer be the soft, weak man that she had beaten him down to. No, not anymore.

Geta drew in a deep breath. "Believe it or not, we have a visitor from the future."

Bulma's eyebrow rose. "From the future? Who?"

"You," Geta told her calmly as her eyes widened. "Just to warn you all, she's pregnant. Very pregnant. So don't freak out when you see her."

Bulma's jaw dropped. "Whaaa..." ~Pregnant? Me? But Hiroshi doesn't want kids, so who...~

"Really? Wow, that's great!" Goku exclaimed happily, continuing on to voice her question. "Who's the-"

"She didn't say and I didn't ask," Geta interrupted, shooting a quick sideways glance at Vegeta. His father had been as surprised as the others but, despite now appearing completely expressionless, was unable to conceal the torrent of emotions from the questions undoubtedly running through his mind and everyone else's; despite his resolve, his eyes betrayed him to anyone who knew him well enough to know how to look. "That's her business."

"Do you know what this is all about, Geta?" Gohan asked.

Geta shook his head. "All I know is what I told you. She arrived, insisted that I find everyone, came into the house and raided the fridge before heading down to her lab." He jerked a thumb toward the pile of empty dishes in the sink.

"Boy, I figured you'd had a snack or something, Vegeta," Goku said, tipping his head thoughtfully. "She must really be hungry."

Bulma blushed slightly. "Well, I sorta did eat like that during the last couple months I was pregnant," she confessed. "Of course, I was carrying this little man, wasn't I?" she cooed to her infant son, nuzzling him with her nose and making him giggle. She paused. "If she's eating like that, she must be pretty far."

"She's ginormous," Geta quipped, smirking, "just like those pictures of you I saw in the photo album."

"Mom strikes again," Bulma sighed, knowing full well who it was that had put pictures of her while pregnant in the photo album.

Geta winced. "I'm getting chewed out. Let's get down to the lab before she fries my brain." He turned his head to look at his mother. "I didn't think you were so adept at establishing telepathic links."

The room was silent as everyone waited for her answer.

"I… I'm not," she whispered. "I can converse, like anyone else here could, but I can only answer when one of you contacts me."

The room was silent again for a few seconds before Vegeta turned on his heel and headed for the lab.

"Hey Pops, wait up!" Anya called after him, following close behind. The others shrugged and followed suit.

***

Bulma shoved another bite of food into her mouth and resumed typing rapidly on the laptop she'd set up, initializing the program she'd written. Her eyes moved over the screen. "It's about time you all decided to show up," she mock complained with her mouth full, without looking up from her computer.

Again, silence filled the room, save for the sound of her fingers tapping the keys. She paused and looked up, drawing in a deep breath and covering her lower face with her hands when she saw them. "Dende," she whispered, tears brimming in her eyes. She hauled herself out of her chair with a small grunt and stood to face them.

"Bulma?" Chi-Chi asked hesitantly.

"Yeah," Bulma answered. She nibbled at her lower lip as she scanned the group, then her eyes returned to Goku. A tear trickled down her cheek. "Oh, Goku... I'm so happy to see you."

Goku gave her a lopsided little grin. "I'm happy to see you too, Bulma- whoa!" He chuckled in surprise when she threw her arms around him and hugged him tightly. He returned the hug. "Hey, what's this all about? You're acting like you haven't seen me in years."

She didn't answer, but let him go and slowly moved over to her younger self. It was evident that she was struggling to hold in her emotions as her eyes fell on the baby in her arms. "May I?" she whispered, holding out her hands.

Bulma blinked in surprise. "Oh! Of course," she responded, handing VJ over. The older woman's response confused her; she had snatched up the child and held him closer than a lifeline as she tried to choke back sobs.

"Bulma, why don't you tell us why you are here and what this is all about? This is more than just a little unnerving."

The sniffling woman lifted her head and looked at the owner of the voice that had just addressed her. Facing Vegeta, awake and in good health, was proving to be equally difficult. "You're right, I'm sorry," she apologized, handing the baby back to his mother. She sniffled and wiped at her face with the back of her hand. "I am obviously from the future. Thank you," she said, accepting a tissue from Chi-Chi.

"Hey, Bulma, you're married?" Gohan asked, pointing to her hand.

Bulma paused. She'd forgotten about the ring, but there really wasn't any point in hiding her relationship status. She sighed. "Well, uhm... sort of." She looked at the floor. "Not exactly, but I still think of him as my husband," she murmured a little wistfully.

"So, I'm with someone but not married?"

The Bulma from the future looked at her younger counterpart. "That is my situation, yes. But I'm going to make it clear right now that I have a definite reason to be here which does not include answering any 'What happens to me in the future?' questions from anyone. What you choose to do with your lives may be completely different than how things turned out in my time. In fact, I hope to Dende that things do turn out differently."

"Dende, Bulma?" Anya queried.

Bulma bit her lip. "Whoops. It's still Kami now, isn't it? Ah, well."

"Can I call you something else besides Bulma, like how we call him Geta?" Gohan asked, jerking his thumb Geta's way. "This is going to be confusing otherwise."

"Hmmm..." The future Bulma thought about this. "I see your point. Sure, I guess so. Just not 'Woman,' okay?" she teased, shooting a look Vegeta's way.

"No problem, Female," Vegeta responded.

~He should know better by now than to try to hide his emotions from me of all people.~ Bulma rolled her eyes. "That's even better, thanks. It doesn't really matter. I can't stay here long."

"Okay, so what are you here for, B?" Goku asked brightly. "Why were you so upset earlier?"

Good ol' Goku. The newly dubbed 'B' couldn't help but smile at her friend. "I guess that solves the easy problem. As for the rest of you, listen up, and listen good." She turned to Geta. "Do you ever recall me mentioning something about how any of us die, Goku in particular?" she asked.

Goku jumped in startled surprise. "What?"

"I know most of the Z-senshi died in battle against the androids. Goku disappeared on a trip he made and never came back, and Chi-Chi could tell that something must have happened to him but didn't know how or what," Geta mused. "I was so little when it all happened, but you did mention it around me once or twice. You rarely spoke about the way any of the z-senshi died. I think it was too painful for you."

B nodded. "Things are very different in the future I come from than the future you come from," she told him. "Your coming back in time to warn us about the androids prepared us for their arrival, but there was something else, something even worse that you couldn't possibly have known to warn us about."

Geta's eyebrow rose. "What could be worse than the androids?"

"A virus," B responded somberly. "Despite the Saiyans' excellent immune systems, they somehow contracted a virus that attacks the heart, causing severe damage and death," she managed in a shaky voice. It was obvious that she was struggling not to break down again. "I'm guessing that Goku must have been the first one to die because of it."

"A virus?" Goku echoed, alarmed. "I die because of a stupid virus? What about Super Saiyan? That doesn't give me any advantage?"

"I think Super Saiyan actually contributes to the problem," B explained. "While Saiyans are inherently much stronger than the average human is, going Super Saiyan makes the heart work even harder, speeding up the process." She dabbed her face. "My little boy got sick. By the time I figured out what was wrong..." She trailed off.

Bulma gasped loudly as realization hit her, clutching VJ to her chest hard enough to make him whimper. "Oh, Kami, no... please don't tell me..."

"I'm sorry, Bulma," B whispered. "Daddy and I were horrified when we found out about this virus, but we figured that it must have been something one of the guys contracted while in space, since Vegeta couldn't recall any record of Saiyans dying of heart disease. We worked tirelessly on a cure, but..." She looked down at her hands.

Vegeta's jaw clenched. He would not, could not, allow this to happen. "You mentioned Super Saiyan being a problem," Vegeta interjected gruffly in a poor attempt to disguise his anxiety. "Had Vegeta ascended? How old was he?"

B scratched her head contemplatively. "He was... let's see, four years old when he ascended, yes," she answered, giving him a teary-eyed grin as his jaw dropped in astonishment.

"Four!" Vegeta exclaimed. "I didn't even fly until I was almost four, and he ascends when he's four?"

B held up her hands. "Wait just a minute, now. I already told you that things may or may not happen the same way for you as they did for me, but I can tell you that you were rather merciless when it came to training him." She looked sad. "It hurts so badly to think about him. I was close, so close, to finding the one missing piece of the puzzle, and he... he died in my arms." Her face dropped into her hands and her sobs began anew. "Why? Why my baby? He was such a sweet, precious little boy, always happy and smiling. I loved him so much. Everyone did. He didn't even get a chance to really live..."

Vegeta felt his heart wrenching within his chest. His son, the only good thing he had left which was truly his, was going to die. Shouldn't the father die before the son? This had to be his fault, since he failed to keep his son safe. Did he carry this virus as well? Could he have passed it on to Bulma, and by extension, their son? He had failed to keep not only his son but his mate safe. Seeing Bulma mourn like this only made things worse. Swallowing hard, he walked over to the crying woman and held her gently, ignoring the others in the room.

B shook her head. "N-no, don't," she objected, pulling away. "I- I can't, Vegeta. It h-hurts too much."

Disregarding her protests, he shoved back the part of his mind that didn't want to ignore his pride and held fast, letting her small fists strike his chest in impassioned protest.

She went limp in his arms, her face buried in his shoulder and her hands fisted in his shirt as she sobbed. He stroked her hair gently and let her cry, trying not to let the others see that he was blinking quite rapidly himself. Gradually she quieted and stepped back from him, mopping her face with the tissue Chi-Chi had given her. "Thanks, Vegeta," she whispered.

"You're welcome," he murmured back, a little embarrassed by the others seeing what he had done. At the same time, he was glad that the woman he loved, who knew better than anyone how difficult it had been for him to do what he had done in front of everyone else, had seen how much he cared about both her and their son. When he'd felt the bulge of the child within her womb pressing against him, he'd wondered and wished for more than anything he'd ever wanted that it was his child she carried, and it had nearly driven him out of his mind. She would never tell him, and somehow she was blocking him from being able to sense the child's ki. Smart woman.

B sniffled. "I-I'm sorry. It's just difficult for me because every day, I have to watch you waste away a little more," she admitted.

Vegeta stared at her in shock. "Me?" he said in a barely audible voice.

~That's right... he hadn't told me he'd ascended yet at this point.~ "Think about it, Vegeta. Of course you become a Super Saiyan," B responded a little indignantly. "Don't you remember me saying that I believed in you? That I knew it wasn't a question of if, but only when it would happen?"

Vegeta nodded. He had tried to forget that afternoon and how he had hurt her so badly. "Yes, I remember." He looked her in the eyes. "So I'm sick, too?"

"Yes," B confirmed. "You... you're on life support," she whispered. "It's so hard to see you barely hanging on like that after having seen you stand so proud and tall for so long." She gave him a shaky smile. "But I'm determined to change things for all of you, even if I can't change things for myself."

"But what about the Dragonballs?" Gohan asked. "Couldn't you use them to bring everyone back?"

B shook her head. "No. The dragon can't raise someone who died of natural causes or someone he's already raised, remember? Both your dad and my son would qualify for 'natural causes,' and Vegeta's already been raised by Shenlon, so if he... if he dies, he can't be raised again." She sighed. "Besides, the Dragonballs aren't ready to be used yet. The regen tank isn't strong enough to kill the virus, and I couldn't get hold of any senzu beans until it was too late."

"What do you mean, too late?" Anya asked.

"Take a look at your father-in-law, Sweetie," B told her. "He's eaten plenty of them, but his tail is still gone. He has a lot of old scars that will never fade completely. Senzu beans can't heal old injuries. The virus has already devastated his heart badly enough that it's beyond healing. The only hope is that he can hang on long enough to allow for the Dragonballs to regenerate. A heart transplant operation would kill him like that," she continued, snapping her fingers for emphasis, "and probably wouldn't work anyway since it would have to be a human donor, which is just too much of a difference genetically that it would be too much of a shock to his body and would immediately be rejected by it. It might have worked for VJ, but..." She sighed sadly. "Hanging on that long just doesn't look very probable, to be honest." She frowned sadly.

"Couldn't we all just eat a senzu bean right now?" Goku asked, puzzled. "Wouldn't that heal the virus from our bodies?"

"That's a good idea, Goku, but for some reason senzu beans don't appear to be effective against the virus itself, either." She shook her head. "If they were, you'd be completely healthy right now since you eat them while sparring."

"You said you came here to change things for us. So, what are our options?" Vegeta asked. "We need to at least help the children."

"Do any of us survive this virus unscathed?" Geta added before B could answer.

"Yes, you, little Vegeta and Gohan pulled through," B confirmed, pulling a capsule out of her pocket. "I managed to come up with this just in the nick of time for Gohan, anyway." She pushed the little plunger on the capsule and tossed it onto the table next to her laptop. It exploded into a small box, which, when she opened it, contained some small vials and various medical supplies. "Come on over here," B instructed, waving them over.

"What is it-" Goku yelped and leapt backwards mid-sentence. "Those are needles!" he shrieked. "You're not going to stick me with a needle, are you?"

"Wussy boy," Vegeta taunted, sneering at his terrified subject.

"Of course not," B soothed.

Goku visibly relaxed. "Oh, thank Kami," he sighed, relieved.

"I'm going to stick you with a needle and one of those little blades doctors use to get a small blood sample," she corrected him. "If I see something questionable, I may stick you a third time to draw some more blood."

"Buullllma!" Goku wailed. "I hate needles!"

"Goku Son! Would you rather be poked a couple of times or be dead again?" Chi-Chi chastised her husband irritably.

Goku actually seemed to be considering this. "I really hate needles- ow!" His hand rubbed the back of his head gingerly. "Was that really necessary?" he complained, scowling at Chi-Chi, who had smacked him upside his head.

"Yes. Thank you, Chi," B commented, easing herself back down into her chair with a groan. "Man, I feel like a beached whale. Now come over here and roll up your sleeve like a man. I'm in no condition to chase you down today."

"I'm not wearing long sleeves," Goku pointed out childishly.

"It wasn't meant to be literal, Dad. Come on," Gohan coaxed his father, grabbing his hand and pulling him along. "It's not that bad."

"Says you," Goku muttered darkly, crossing his arms and glowering at the case with the needles darkly.

"Bulma and Vegeta, I need you to look on while I do this," she instructed, pulling out the rest of her equipment. "I've set this laptop up and I'm going to leave all of this here when I go back home so you can keep testing your blood on your own." She beckoned Goku with a finger. "Look, I'm doing you first so they can watch and so we can get you done and over with, okay?"

"Oh, all right," Goku conceded. "I guess it is better than being dead." He presented his arm to her.

"Let me put it to you this way, Goku. You're the little brother I never had and I love you. I don't want to lose you, and burying my son was the hardest thing I've ever had to do. You don't want to put the people you love through that any sooner than it really being your time to go."

"I... I'm sorry, B," Goku whispered. "I didn't mean to upset you."

"I know, Goku." She took an alcohol swab and rubbed one of his fingers with it, then got out the little blade to prick him with. "So, any thoughts about what you're having for dinner tonight?"

"Hmm. Probably fish," Goku decided thoughtfully. "Gohan and I - owwww!"

"Hold still," B complained, squeezing the fleshy pad of his finger below the fingertip around the tiny wound to make the blood well up. She wiped it away with another alcohol swab and squeezed his finger again to get some more blood to come out. "Goku Son, if you don't stop squirming I'm going to have Vegeta do this to you. You know how squeamish he is."

Vegeta grinned ferally. "Oh, yeah."

"But Vegeta's not squeamish- oh. Right." He watched as Bulma made his blood drip onto a small strip, which she then inserted into a machine and pushed a couple of buttons.

"So this will test for the presence of the virus in Kakarrot's blood?" Vegeta asked, peering with interest at the small machine.

"Yes, and I'll use the reading I get to determine how much of this serum I have that he needs. It doesn't keep very long and I don't know when I'll be able to round up everything I need make more of it, which is why I had to come here right away and get you all here so quickly the way I did," B explained. She drummed her fingers on the edge of the desk, then looked at the machine.

She used some hand sanitizer and ate a few bites of an apple, then looked at the machine.

She peered at her laptop, then looked at the machine. It still wasn't done. "Oh, for Den- whoever's sake, hurry it up already!" B shouted at the little contraption. "Top of the line, my-"

She shut up immediately when the thing beeped, and grabbed it to read the results. She squinted, then looked again.

Bulma handed VJ to Chi-Chi and stepped a little closer. "Can I help?" she offered, feeling a little useless just standing there and doing nothing.

"Not unless you can read Saiyan. I didn't know how yet at this point in time."

Bulma shook her head; now, she really did feel useless.

B squinted as she tried to read the screen, her nose nearly touching it, and sighed in frustration. /Veg, is that a two or a seven? I wish I'd brought my glasses. My prescription changed when I got pregnant again./

He didn't reply, but just stood there and stared at her.

/Well? Two or seven? Vegeta!/ B thwapped him on the arm.

Vegeta looked at the little readout. /Neither. It's a nine./

B peered at the alien symbol on the readout again. /Oh, right. Thanks./

/Sure. When did you learn to speak Saiyan?/ Like Anya, B's accent was quite heavy, but she was completely understandable.

B paused. "I didn't even realize I was doing that. Huh. I guess it was just second nature after reading it just now. I decided I didn't want to be left in the dark when you taught Saiyan to our son, so I paid attention when I heard you speak it to him and bugged you to teach me, too. The program is written in Saiyan to prevent it from being used by the wrong people." She put an elbow on the desk and rested her chin in her hand. /So I suppose you should teach her sooner than later, hmm?/ She looked up at him, one eyebrow rising.

"Oh. Right." Vegeta leaned over her shoulder to watch as she put the test results into the computer. "Bulma, are you watching this?"

"Yes, I see it," Bulma confirmed, stepping a little closer. She suddenly realized that when she'd seen the two of them comfortably interacting the way they were, she'd felt left out, unimportant.

Jealous?

No, that was just ridiculous.

Of course, Vegeta wasn't teaching her Saiyan yet.

Vegeta's voice interrupted her thoughts. "Does that mean what I think it does?"

"I- I'm afraid so," B responded in a shaky voice.

"What? What is it?" Chi-Chi asked, wringing her hands anxiously. "Is my Goku sick yet?"

"He's loaded."

"Oh," Goku said in a barely audible voice.

"Vegeta... For Kami's sake, show a little compassion for the man for once," B chastised. "Don't you worry, Goku. We're going to take control of the situation before it becomes serious," she promised. "I've got some serum that will help you get well."

"Okay. Thanks."

~Poor Goku! I've never seen him so worried like this before.~ "I promise you that Vegeta and I will keep using this equipment to keep tabs on you," Bulma assured her friend, going over to him and giving him a hug. "We're catching this early, right? When we check Vegeta, Geta and the boys, we can inoculate them before they get sick, too. You'll see."

"You, Anya and Chi-Chi, too. Incidentally, I've already inoculated myself," B informed Bulma.

"You? And why us? We aren't Saiyans," Bulma asked in confusion.

"Because of the way this virus is spread," B explained as she prepared her equipment for the next test. "Typically, it's through body fluids. Like I mentioned earlier, I imagine Goku or Vegeta must have contracted it somehow while off in space, since this virus isn't like anything I've ever seen or heard about before on Earth. Regardless, it's easy to see how it could be spread between the men since they're fond of sparring together and they always seem to get all bloody. As for the women, let's just say that body fluids are also involved with wild monkey love, which you're obviously no stranger to." She looked up from her laptop and smirked when Bulma turned a lovely shade of pink and shifted the baby in her arms.

"Wild monkey love?" Gohan repeated with a grin.

"Bulma!" Chi-Chi complained, covering her son's ears with a little more force than necessary.

Anya only giggled. Wild monkey love! She'd have to remember that one.

Vegeta had gone a little red himself. "Uhm, yeah. So does that mean they'll get sick, too?"

"No, but they're carriers and can spread it, not only back and forth between themselves and their mates but to an unborn child should a pregnancy occur. There's no telling when whoever got it first spread it on or how long the virus will have lain dormant in their systems, since it seems to be the huge change of ki levels during the transformation to Super Saiyan that triggers it, since the heart has to work harder to compensate." B frowned. "I want to check the Z-Senshi, too, since they could be carriers if any blood drawn during sparring got into a cut or one of the body's open areas like the eyes or mouth and they could pass it back again the same way they got it. Even my parents and some of the Capsule Corp medical staff would be good candidates too, in the event that the virus decides to mutate."

Vegeta contemplated this. "Hmm. The mouth, huh? Well, how about saliva? Should you check what's-his-name too? Assuming, however, that would be the only reason to check him," he commented.

Bulma blushed violently. "Not that it's any of your business, Vegeta," she snapped. She was still irritated at him for his comments the other day and didn't need any more badmouthing of her relationship with Hiroshi from him.

"Both of you shut up." B massaged her temples tiredly. "This is important!"

"You are correct, and I apologize for my poorly phrased inquiry regarding your personal life. It is none of my business and I will leave that aspect of your life to you, as long as our son is not involved," Vegeta apologized, unable to completely hide the bitterness in his voice. "Trust me, I have no desire to know the details. I was only looking out for your and our son's best interests, especially since you are still nursing him."

Bulma's eyes widened; she had not considered the fact that she was still nursing her son as a possible way of transmitting this virus to him if he didn't already have it. "Is... is that a possibility?"

"Infection through saliva or breast milk? I have no idea." B shrugged helplessly. "Sweat or other body wastes, even? I never thought to check any of those possibilities. Typically I'd say most likely no, but since this is no ordinary virus it could be feasible. But for now, let's get this testing done and the serum dispensed."

***

"So, you definitely have it, too?"

Vegeta set his cup of coffee on the countertop and turned to Bulma, who was standing behind him, their son in her arms. He nodded. "Yes, but it is nowhere near as advanced as Kakarrot's is. For some reason Geta doesn't have it at all, so I must have gotten it from Kakarrot while sparring, or something like that." He shrugged. "I wonder how Geta could not have it, since..." He couldn't bring himself to finish the sentence.

Bulma knew what it was that he didn't want to say- how could Geta not even be a carrier while their infant son was? Even she had the dreaded virus. "I know," Bulma whispered, tears springing to her eyes.

"I'll do whatever it takes to save you and our baby," Vegeta said solemnly, gently cupping his son's little head with one large hand. "You have my word on that." He smiled soberly at the boy, who was staring at him with those huge, innocent blue eyes.

It was strange the way Vegeta had phrased his statement- he'd said 'our baby' instead of 'the boy,' or even 'our son.' Bulma felt her heart swell. It couldn't be any more evident to her that Vegeta did indeed care deeply for the son he'd fathered. She nodded. "I never doubted that, Vegeta," she whispered. "I want you to know that I'm prepared to do the same."

Vegeta removed his hand from the baby's head and brushed a strand of hair back from her face, cupping her cheek. "Whatever it takes," he repeated in a whisper. "I would do anything for you, Bulma. Anything."

The way those soft blue eyes were looking at him made him forget about everyone and everything but her. Without even thinking, Vegeta leaned in closer to her. She seemed just as affected and wasn't moving back to prevent what he was about to do, so he brushed a kiss ever so gently across her lips. She shivered at the contact, and he brought his lips back down to hers. He slid his arms around her and just begun to give her an honest to goodness kiss when he heard voices outside the door.

He broke the kiss and turned away, leaning heavily against the countertop. She heard him curse in frustration and he sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"Bulma, there you are," B announced as she entered the kitchen. "We actually managed to round everyone up."

"Great," Bulma agreed, still a little distracted. "I think it's a good idea to check them, too. Once I track down Mom and Dad, we'll be all set."

B nodded. "By the way, I think Chi-Chi was looking for you."

"Oh. Thanks. I'll go see what she needs," Bulma mumbled, making a hasty retreat from the kitchen.

"Hey. You okay?" B asked casually once her younger self was out of earshot. She could tell from Vegeta's stance and the fact that he didn't look at her that he wasn't happy. She didn't need to be a genius to interpret what must have happened, especially after the way her flustered younger self had fled the room.

"Sure, whatever." Vegeta was not going to offer her anything.

B rolled her eyes. "Please. You can drop the tough guy attitude and talk to me, can't you?" She came a little more into the room. "I take it I interrupted something here?"

"You could say that," Vegeta admitted. His voice again had an edge of bitterness and frustration to it.

"I see." B did not offer any apologies for what had happened.

Was she truly unconcerned about it? Glad? Sorry, but not wanting to lead him on? Vegeta couldn't tell. "So, how does your husband think about you coming here like this?" he asked, changing the subject.

"He doesn't know. I left while he was sleeping." She gave him a sheepish little look when he turned around to face her.

"You didn't tell him? Won't he wonder where you are?"

"Geta knows," B explained. "Besides, it wouldn't be any surprise to him if he discovered I'd come here. He knows that my family and friends are important to me."

Vegeta paused before responding, as if uncertain that he wanted to hear the answer. "Am I someone important to you?" he asked quietly.

"Of course you are. You're my little boy's father," B responded, "and a good friend to me. I love all of my friends, Vegeta. That's why I'm here." His unspoken question had not gone unnoticed.

He stared at her expressionlessly. "How does he feel about that?"

"He's a good man. He understood exactly what it was he was getting into when we got together." B smiled. "He knows that you'll always hold a very special place in my heart."

Vegeta was silent for a moment and she could tell his heart was breaking, no matter how hard he was trying to conceal his emotions. "Do I know him?"

B raised an eyebrow at him. "You know I can't tell you that, Veg."

"I know," he conceded. He hadn't expected that she would actually answer that particular question. "But tell me a little about him. What's he like?"

B smiled blissfully. "He's wonderful. Tall, dark, and devastatingly handsome. Like your typical fairy tale hero."

"Oh," Vegeta said after a moment's pause. He stared down at the floor, visibly crushed by her revelation. She'd said tall. Vegeta knew quite well that he wasn't exactly someone who one would describe as being tall.

"He was so good to our son. Yours and mine, I mean," she added.

"I'm glad to hear that," Vegeta told her honestly. "I guess we aren't talking about Hiroshi, then?"

B pulled a face and made a disgusted noise. "That utter asshole? Great Kami, no! I have no idea what I was thinking when it comes to him."

Vegeta held in a sigh. "That's a relief." He looked back up at her. There was another question, a very important one, that he had to ask, no matter how painful hearing the answer was. "Are... are you happy?"

B nodded and gave him a little smile, despite how seeing the way he'd crumpled like a leaf at the word 'tall' had torn her heart to shreds. "Very." She sighed, her face sobering. "Vegeta, any fool could see that this is a sore spot for you. Why are you torturing yourself by asking me about all of this?"

"Because having a special place in your heart isn't enough for me. I want to be that tall, dark and devastatingly handsome man so dear to you. I want the child in your womb to be my child," he choked out. "I know I screwed up with you, Bulma, and I hate myself for hurting you every day of my miserable existence. Nothing I say or do will convince her otherwise of that. You even broke up with that freak Hiroshi, and where did that get me?" He shook his head violently, and B felt her stomach do a flip-flop when she realized that he was actually just barely managing to hold back tears. "Tell me what I need to do to be a better man, to earn her forgiveness, and I swear by the graves of my ancestors that I'll do it," he pleaded. "I'll do anything to win back her love."

B found herself fighting back tears of her own when he turned away and leaned against the countertop again, unable to look at her. He had just laid bare his heart and soul to her, casting aside the pride which was so important to him, so much an integral part of him. She could tell he had lost the battle against his emotions when she heard him sniffle quietly, his head hanging in shame.

The last thing she had wanted to do was hurt and humiliate him. "Oh, Vegeta," she whispered, coming very close to breaking down and telling him the things he wanted to hear, the things he shouldn't hear. But she knew that telling him anything would only complicate the issue. "I'm sorry. I never meant to hurt you. But I'm afraid I can't give you a straightforward answer. If you're serious about this, and I know you are, you need to find the way on your own. You already know one thing for sure that you need to do. You know what it is that she needs from you."

She saw him wipe at his face with the back of his hand, and he nodded. "I know," he managed. So much for not being weak. Instead, he was sniveling like a child who'd been punished.

"What I can tell you is no matter what, don't give up." B put a hand on his shoulder. "Have a little self-respect. Stand tall, Vegeta."

He didn't speak, but straightened up and nodded again.

Bulma came back into the kitchen, VJ in her arms. "Vegeta, are you still in here- oh." She regarded the scene in front of her with both curiosity and confusion. "Am I interrupting something?"

Vegeta shook his head and let out a bitter little laugh; how ironic it was that she'd ask the same question. "No, no... what did you need, Bulma?" His voice was shaky.

"Uhm, we were thinking of ordering Chinese for lunch and I just wanted to know if you had a preference," she responded a little hesitantly.

"No, whatever you decide to get is fine."

She frowned. "Okay. Are you all right, Veg?"

"Fine," he answered. "Thanks."

VJ began to whimper and held his arms out to his father. "Da-ee! Da-ee!" He struggled in Bulma's arms, trying to free himself.

There was no more hiding for Vegeta as he turned and took his son from Bulma. "I'm going to take a shower. I'll bring him in with me," he informed her, not meeting her eyes. He passed by the two women, eyes averted.

Bulma watched him leave and turned to her older counterpart when she was sure he was gone. Vegeta had looked terrible. His eyes were red and slightly swollen, and he'd looked like he was about to break down as he clutched their son firmly against his chest. She'd never seen him that emotional. "Was he actually..."

"Yes, and I would let it go if I were in your shoes," B confirmed quietly. "There was only one other occasion that I've seen him cry. It was when he laid our son in his coffin. He may not ever admit it to you, but he truly, dearly loves that child. I think he believes VJ is all he has left, and now the boy is going to die," she said soberly.

"Oh, Kami..." Bulma shuddered at the very thought of it. "Is that what you were talking about?"

B shook her head. "No."

"Then what did you say to him to make him so upset that he'd cry?" Bulma asked, astonished and saddened at the same time.

"Bulma, Bulma... don't pretend to be so naïve," B chastised. "You know very well what we were talking about. Unfortunately, he didn't hear what it was he wanted to hear."

Bulma's face reddened; whether it was in embarrassment or anger, B wasn't certain. "What did you say to him?" she demanded.

"I wouldn't give him any straightforward answers to his questions, and I'm not going to for you, either. Suffice to say he asked about my husband, and since he was genuinely concerned about whether or not I was happy, I did give him a brief description of him. He is at a loss now as to what he can do, since he desperately wants more than anything to fit the bill." B sighed. "I so didn't want to hurt him, but I felt that he at least deserved to know that I was happy and our son was well cared for. But it broke my heart to see him this way."

"Oh, Vegeta," she whispered, feeling simply awful about the whole situation. "What should I do?"

"Don't look at me," B responded, stepping back, palms forward. "As I already told you, you need to live your life on your own terms, not how someone else dictates you should live it. Maybe what happened for me is no longer what's the best for you. That's why I'm here, isn't it?"

Bulma pondered B's words carefully and nodded. "You're right. But as for Vegeta, did he not fit the bill, as you put it, at all when it comes to your husband? Is that why he was so upset? He feels like it's hopeless for him?"

B scowled. "How can you make your own choices in life if you're fishing for details so you know what to look for? You can't. So make up your own mind about what to do with your life, Bulma. I can't tell you how to do that." She eased herself down onto a chair and kicked off her shoes. "Oh, my feet. If you're so concerned about him, well, do something about it."

"Of course I'm concerned," Bulma retorted. "I don't like seeing him this way."

"Are you insinuating that I do? It's pointless to try to pull the wool over my eyes, Dear. You know as well as I do that no matter where he goes or what he does, you'll always love him." B raised an eyebrow, smirking, when her younger self blushed and averted her eyes. "Just order some hot and sour soup, sesame chicken, beef lo mein, and a bunch of egg rolls along with whatever else you're going to get. Oh, and don't forget the dinner rolls."

~Vegeta's favorite snack.~ "All right," she agreed quietly. "That'll work."

***

Vegeta sat on the bench holding his son close against his chest. The baby had rested his downy little head upon his father's shoulder and was sucking his thumb contentedly. /See the bird, Vegeta?/ Vegeta asked his son softly. He pointed to the bird in question, which was perched on a branch of a nearby tree. /Can you see him in the tree?/

VJ lifted his head and followed his father's finger. His thumb fell out of his mouth and he burbled excitedly as the little bird hopped along the branch. His hand reached out and he stared with fascination at the feathered animal. "Oooohh..."

Vegeta couldn't help but chuckle at his son's wide-eyed, innocent enthusiasm. /Can you say 'bird,' Vegeta? Bird,/ he prompted gently.

The boy turned his head to look at his father with wide blue eyes, then turned back to the bird.

/Bird,/ Vegeta repeated, pointing at the animal again.

VJ attempted the word, but let out a sigh of frustration.

/Try again, my son,/ Vegeta intoned softly, running his hand over the silky soft blue hair on his son's head. /Bird./

/Bird,/ the boy finally managed. He looked at his father expectantly.

/Yes, bird! Very good!/ Vegeta praised. Since he'd been forbidden to use his ki or overexert himself for the time being, which definitely included training, he was going to spend every moment he had with his son. He cuddled the boy close.

"Da-ee." VJ snuggled up against his father's chest, his little hand fisting the fabric of Vegeta's shirt.

Vegeta welcomed the arrival of the now familiar warmth inside his chest and smiled down at his son. The boy's eyelids had begun to droop; the sound of his father's heartbeat was lulling him off to sleep. ~I wonder how much longer he'll be able to hear it.~ He got up from the bench, his motion startling the bird, which flew away.

"Vegeta?"

Vegeta turned, a little surprised by who he saw. "B."

"The food is here," B told him, walking closer. She smiled. He was such a good father. "The gardens are beautiful, aren't they?"

"Yes, they are," he agreed a little awkwardly. "I was just showing Vegeta the birds."

B nodded. "He always did love animals, especially birds." She gave him a sad little smile.

Vegeta was quiet for a moment before he spoke. "I assume that you did not come here to fetch me to eat or to talk about birds," he murmured.

"No, I didn't," B agreed. "I wanted to tell you that I didn't want to hurt you today."

"I know. And you know that nothing is your fault." Vegeta held out a hand. "Come, I'll teleport us back inside."

B decided to let the subject drop. "You know you aren't allowed to do that," she reminded him. "I have no problem with walking, despite my condition."

He nodded. "You're right. I wasn't thinking about it." He gestured toward the exit, indicating that they should leave. "You've given me a lot to think about," he said quietly as they walked back to the house. "I have a lot of changes to make."

B smiled at him. "You've come so far already, Veg. Don't give up reaching your goals."

Vegeta nodded but said nothing else.

They entered through the kitchen and hung up their coats. "Hey, we're back. Let's eat!" B called out as they approached the dining room.

Bulma turned a little when they entered the room. "I see you found him."

B snagged a piece of chicken from one of the many containers on the big table. "Yup. Piece of cake." She popped the little fried morsel into her mouth and tapped her temple, giving her younger self a knowing look.

Bulma looked around. Vegeta was strapping their now alert son into his high chair and no one else was paying them any attention. "How did you learn to do that?"

B swallowed. "Vegeta, of course. You could do it too, if you mentally looked in the right place." She winked at her younger counterpart. "Man, this smells great. Let's eat."

Everyone sat down at the huge table. B chose one of the two remaining seats between Goku and Anya, which left one seat for Vegeta, who had been tending to his son.

It was right next to Hiroshi.

Vegeta gave B a withering look that clearly said 'thanks for nothing.' Hiroshi didn't look any happier about the seating arrangement, but B spoke up before he could say anything rude.

"Don't worry, you'll live. I decided I'd take my chances sitting next to Mr. Tidy Eater here," she said, smiling sweetly as Goku gave her a look of confusion.

"Who, me?" Goku asked, wary of the wooden spoon his wife had in her hand to whack his should he attempt to snitch any food before his turn came. He didn't know who else she could mean. After all, Anya was a 'Mrs.' and not a 'Mr.'

B gave him a look of amusement. "Yes, you. Sit down, Veg. He won't bite, but in case he does, I inoculated him myself."

Geta choked on the soda he was drinking and covered his mouth, causing Anya to whack him on the back as she tried to contain her own giggles. She wasn't the only one.

Little Vegeta's eyes grew wide and he let out a little shriek. "You a mean man! Don' bite Ganpa!" he shouted, scowling at Hiroshi in indignation.

Vegeta had a smirk on his face as he took his seat. B had made a definite statement by not only her words but by her refusal to sit by Hiroshi, and he was thoroughly enjoying the man's irritation. "Oh, don't worry about me, Vegeta," he assured the boy. "I've got much bigger teeth, see?" He bared his teeth, extending his large canines as far as they would go and running the tip of his tongue along one of them.

"Neat-o, Ganpa!" Vegeta yelled.

"All right now, Vegeta," Anya said, patting her son's hand gently. "Let's eat this tasty food before it gets cold." She had to agree with her son- watching a Saiyan extend his fangs was something she'd always found to be extremely cool.

"Please, can't we just have a peaceful meal?" Bulma exclaimed, not wanting to admit that she too found the Saiyans' ability to extend the length of their canines at will to be fascinating. She leaned forward in her seat at Hiroshi's opposite side. "You behave, got it?" she demanded, pointing at Vegeta.

Rather than become irritated, Vegeta decided to take advantage of the situation. "Of course, Dear. Anything for you." He winked at her openly, giving her a smooth smile.

Bulma blushed and sat back in her seat. It was bad enough that he was flirting with her to annoy her boyfriend, but he was doing it right in front of everyone! "I mean it, Vegeta." She took one of the containers and put some food on her plate.

Vegeta smirked at the angry man next to him and held up a container. "Almond chicken, Takashita?"

"Go to hell, you ignoramus," Hiroshi snarled, turning away haughtily. He had indeed been the one who had requested the almond chicken, but he'd be damned if he accepted it from that accursed monkey.

"Oh! I'll take it if Hiroshi doesn't want it, Vegeta!" Goku piped up excitedly. Goku loved almond chicken.

"Sure, why not?" Vegeta responded, cheerfully handing the container to him. "Dig in."

Bulma tossed down her chopsticks. "I've had enough already!" she shouted, standing up. "Stop making waves, Vegeta, or I'll... I'll..."

There were several nervous throat clearings as Vegeta rose as well. He would not back down this time. She was lucky he didn't snap her ugly boyfriend's miserable neck. "It's not as though you have any reason to make me sleep on the couch, there’s no point in taking the GR away since I can’t use it anyway, and you've already decided to be ticked off at me, so what else are you going to do, hmm?" He met her glare squarely.

"Children, let's eat our food while it's still hot," B spoke up. "I can't stay here much longer, so I have to make every moment count."

"Da-ee? Mama?" VJ asked. He didn't sound like the happy baby he normally was.

Vegeta let out a sigh. He would say something for his son's benefit. "It's all right, Vegeta," he said in a soothing tone. "Daddy said something unkind to Mama, and is sorry." He sat down again.

Bulma sat down as well and picked up her chopsticks. Her boyfriend was smirking at Vegeta, who was pointedly ignoring him. Neither of them were making the situation any better. "Pass the plum sauce, please."

"Here." Yamcha held out one of the little plastic containers that the restaurant had provided, glad for a break in the bickering. Vegeta hadn't been right in provoking Hiroshi, but at the same time, Yamcha couldn't blame him. He'd seen enough of the horrid man's behavior to know what he was truly like. Why couldn't Bulma see it? What did the man have to offer that made Bulma keep him around? He just didn't get it.

"Thanks." Bulma sliced open her egg roll and poured some of the sauce on it.

"Don't eat too much of that, Bulma," Hiroshi spoke up. "I noticed that you've put on some weight lately."

Bulma opened her mouth and shut it again, embarrassed. Why did he have to point it out to everyone? "All right, Hiroshi."

"Shut the hell up and let her eat the Kami damned egg roll," Vegeta snapped, recalling the time that Mrs. Briefs had done the same thing. "It's your words that will make her put on weight, not a harmless egg roll."

Hiroshi scoffed at him. "What the hell do you know about anything concerning Bulma? And as if I could speak to make anyone fat. You truly are an idiot."

Vegeta drew in a breath. "What do I know about Bulma? Hmm, let's see. For starters, her favorite ice cream is triple chocolate fudge brownie. Her favorite breakfast food is apple pancakes with caramel topping. Her favorite color is fuschia, although red suits her infinitely better which is why she wears it so often. She's allergic to bees which is why she just put sugar in her tea instead of honey. She loves horses and had a pony named Clip Clop as a child. She doesn't have any pets now because she doesn't have the time to properly devote to them, but would like to get a lab puppy someday, and yes, pun intended. She can't stand spiders but snakes are no big deal. Her favorite movie is 'Steel Magnolias' and she likes to eat popcorn with white cheddar cheese flavored seasoning when she watches it. She loves doing crosswords in languages other than Western and those extra difficult Sudoku puzzles. She likes playing any type of board game, especially chess against her father. It's her favorite game, unless you're talking video games. Then it's Tetris. She did a dissertation in college on Thomas Edison, whose work she admires. That's where Vegeta's middle name came from. She likes to knit booties for the employees at work with new babies. Booties are the only thing she knows how to knit. Bunny taught her. She likes to read either those trashy romance novels with the long-haired men and chesty women in erotic poses on the covers or Batman comic books, depending on her mood. Oh, and her birthday is in exactly two weeks, so I suggest you start shopping. I have a whole list I could continue to recite, but since you look so incredibly bored, I'll wrap it up by saying your words will put on weight because she tends to snack when she's anxious or upset, so go right ahead and keep at it, especially if you decide to offend her family and friends. Oh, and she's not fat, she's retaining water because her monthly cycle is soon, you idiot," Vegeta spat back. "But you didn't know any of that, did you? And you have the nerve to tell me I know nothing about Bulma." He snorted in disgust. "Fool."

Bulma stared at her plate. She had nothing to say in Hiroshi's defense, as everything Vegeta had said was true. He did know more about her than her boyfriend did, she realized with shock. She hadn't thought that he paid attention or cared about what she liked and what was important to her. She knew now that she'd been terribly wrong by her assumption.

"You truly are something else," Hiroshi spat back. "Thinking you're all that-"

"Both of you shut up!" B yelled for the second time that day, surprising them both.

Hiroshi scowled at her. "I don't know why everyone continues to defend this stupid monkey," he complained, ignoring B's outburst. "He's done nothing but disrupt everyone's lives. You were absolutely miserable when we met up again after he abandoned you for the second time, Bulma. Don't forget about that."

B set down her chopsticks. "You're the one being disruptive right now, Hiroshi," she told him, "and perhaps if you quit offending him and everyone else, he'd have no reason to act the way he does around you. You claim to be so much better than he is, but you haven't proven that tonight. Grow up." She picked her chopsticks back up. "Go ahead, tell me I don't know anything right in front of your girlfriend, if you think you have valid reason to dispute what I've said."

Hiroshi pursed his lips. What could he say to save face and not openly offend his girlfriend? "Whatever," he growled. "Give me the damn almond chicken." He reached over and snatched the container from Goku.

"Hey! That wasn't very nice," Goku complained. He frowned. "You could have just said you wanted some."

Krillin shook his head, his expression clearly telling his friend not to get involved, to let it go. "We guys'll grab lunch sometime this week, Bud. Don't stress over it."

Goku's frown lessened somewhat when Yamcha nodded in agreement. "Geta, Vegeta, is there a good day for you?"

Vegeta looked up from his plate. He'd had to force himself to continue to sit next to the cretin beside him and had completely lost his appetite. "I suppose whatever day Bulma doesn't need me to watch Vegeta," he said, managing to hide his surprise. While Goku always liked to hang around him to the point of being annoying, he hadn't expected to be invited by anyone other than Goku.

"Well, just get back with us when you figure stuff out," Krillin told him.

Vegeta nodded mutely. It was a weird feeling since he was used to being disliked, not for people to actually want to include him. He was just about to start eating again when his cell phone rang. His eyebrow rose when he saw who it was calling. "Excuse me." He got up from the table and stepped aside. "Hello, Shatsu."

"Oh, are they coming home?" Bulma asked.

Vegeta held up a finger indicating that he was listening to what was being said and that she should wait for a moment. "Yes, she's still here. Yes, seriously." He looked over to B, who waved at him, as her mouth was full. "Well, I would, but I'm restricted right now. But Geta could come. Are you ready right now?" There was another pause as the doctor responded. "All right. I'll have him come get you in half an hour. Okay. Bye." Vegeta flipped his phone shut and clipped it back onto his belt. He sighed, not wanting to sit back down next to Hiroshi, but also not wanting to make another scene. He sat down and rested his jaw in one hand, his elbow on the table.

"Are you going to eat that?"

Vegeta looked over at B, who was watching him expectantly. "No, I'm done. Help yourself." He held out his plate to her, his meal only half eaten.

B took the plate and placed it on top of her empty one. "Thanks. Mmm, beef lo mein..."

"Mmm, donuts..." Geta said in his best Homer Simpson voice. Everyone but Hiroshi laughed, and even Vegeta cracked a smile. He hadn't understood the reference the first time his son had done the impersonation, but Mrs. Briefs had gotten him to watch this show also, and he had to admit that it was amusing.

***

"You two are both clean," B said, shutting the laptop. "I would still check yourselves periodically, just to be safe."

"I'll see to it personally," Dr. Briefs assured her. "Thank you so much for coming." She'd shared her formula with him. While some of its components would be difficult to obtain, he had no doubts that he could manage it.

"Of course," B told him, giving him a hug. "All of you take care."

Mrs. Briefs' lips trembled and she pulled B into a hug. She could plainly see that would get another grandchild, but who was her daughter's husband? Poor Vegeta had to have been devastated at seeing her pregnant and with a husband. Hopefully it wasn't that wicked Hiroshi she was dating. "Oh, my dear girl," she murmured.

B smiled. "I love you too, Mom. But I've really got to go now. I've got a ton of things to do. If I hug all of you, I'll never get out of here." She waved to everyone. "Goodbye, all. Make sure to keep up with checking yourselves, got it?"

They all waved back.

"Bye!"

"We will!"

"Take care!"

"Give everyone my love. Especially your studmuffin son!"

"Anya!"

B chuckled, and, catching Vegeta's eye, gave him a two fingered wave that could easily have been interpreted as meant for everyone. He was standing off by himself, and she felt a twinge in her heart for him and how he must be feeling at that moment. "Goodbye, Vegeta. Don't forget to stand tall," B admonished him with a smile as she approached him. "Take good care of my little boy."

Vegeta nodded. "I will," he promised. "You take care, too."

"Thanks. I will," B repeated. She leaned down so she was level with the baby and stroked his hair gently. "Bye-bye, sweet baby. Be a good boy," she told him in a wavering voice.

The little boy bounced in his father's arms and cooed happily, giving her the huge smile he frequently gave other people, especially members of the family.

Vegeta watched B as she made her way over to the waiting time machine. He had so much to think about.

Wait!

~Tall, dark, and devastatingly handsome...

~Have a little self-respect. Stand tall, Vegeta.

~Don't forget to stand tall...~

Vegeta's eyes widened with sudden realization. She had mentioned him standing tall on at least three separate occasions. Could she really mean...? "Wait!" he called after her, holding up a hand. He quickly gave the baby to Goku, who happened to be standing nearby and found himself thoroughly surprised by the prince's actions, and rushed after her.

She turned back to him. "Hmm?"

"I, uhm," Vegeta began, wracking his brain desperately for an excuse, "I never properly thanked you for coming here," he said quickly. "Thank you for giving us all hope."

She smiled brightly at him. "You're very welcome, Vegeta. I wouldn't have it any other way." Knowing how much it would it would mean to him, B stepped up to him and gave him a warm hug.

Not expecting this, he paused for a moment before enveloping her in his arms and hugging her back, closing his eyes and burying his face in the crook of her neck. He inhaled deeply, breathing in her sweet scent. She smelled like the kiwi strawberry shampoo she used, that fragrant scent he'd grown fond of smelling when he'd lie down in bed at night and pull her into his arms to spoon her warm body against his. "Thank you for giving me hope," he whispered just loudly enough for her to hear.

She pulled away enough to whisper in his ear. "You're welcome." She kissed his cheek and turned back to the pod. "Goodbye."

Wordlessly, he helped her up and into it, then took a few steps back. He watched as the pod rose into the air and hovered briefly before disappearing with a flash.

"Goodbye," he murmured, returning the two fingered wave.

The others stood in silence, waiting for him to do something. Bulma especially felt a little uncomfortable at seeing how familiarly the two had behaved, how despairingly he'd held her as she hugged him goodbye, the looks- despite being chaste- they'd exchanged on more than one occasion, the private conversations they'd had. Bulma knew she was in love with him, but what was she supposed to do? She had to admit to herself that she knew the answer to that. It would be difficult actually doing it and not looking snobbish or desperate. Besides, Vegeta needed to know that she wouldn't tolerate any further behavior like what he'd put her through. She wouldn't take any more cruel treatment, or the pain of him leaving her a third time without thought about her feelings on the matter. But, she truly didn't think he would do either of those things again.

Was she jealous of the attention he'd received from her future self, or even more likely, the open affection and attention he'd shown her in return? Was she jealous of the fact that he'd opened up and poured out his heart to the point of tears to someone other than herself, a future version of herself, to add insult to injury?

She couldn't say for sure exactly what it was she was feeling. Or, maybe she was simply denying the true reason. Her thoughts were interrupted by Hiroshi's voice.

"So, what was that desperate little display of attention all about?" Hiroshi asked haughtily. "You just don't know when to give up and admit that you're the loser here, do you?"

"Hiroshi," Bulma groaned wearily. "Please."

Vegeta visibly bristled at the hated man's words and turned to face him. "Perhaps she did what she did because she is a compassionate enough person to actually care about other people, even including for some Kami-forsaken reason bloodthirsty, cold hearted, and emotionless sons of bitches such as myself," he retorted snidely. "Not that you'd know anything about that, or even notice it in the woman you have claimed even as she is standing right beside you." He retrieved his son from Goku. "Thank you, Kakarrot." He walked back toward the house with his son, standing tall with self-respect as he did so.

~Good for you, Vegeta.~ "Sure, no problem, Vegeta," Goku responded quietly, his normal happy-go-lucky attitude distinctly missing. He hated witnessing interaction between Vegeta and Hiroshi and felt sorry for the older Saiyan. ~What a jerk that guy is! I wonder what it is that Bulma sees in him? Maybe he just sees Vegeta as a threat, so he's mean to him.~ "Chi, I think it's time to get going. I need to chop some wood and Gohan hasn't finished his homework yet," he spoke up, not wanting to be in the company of Bulma's disagreeable boyfriend any longer than necessary.

"That's right, young man. You're behind with your schoolwork," Chi-Chi decided, catching the discreet little look her husband had shot her. "We'd best get home so you can get started."

Bulma had seen the look and could tell something was up but made no comment. "Thanks for coming by, guys. We'll have to get together for a better reason soon."

"Definitely," Goku agreed. "Well, bye guys!" He paused, then gave her a sheepish little smile as he rubbed at the back of his head. "I kinda teleported us here. Got a plane we can borrow?"

***

"Bulma dear," Mrs. Briefs called out as she entered the den. "How does chicken pot pie sound for dinner? We haven't had that in simply ages."

Bulma kept herself from wincing; her mother seemed excited about the idea. "Sorry, Mom. Hiroshi and I are going out to dinner tonight."

Mrs. Briefs' face fell. "Oh. I see. I thought we decided that we were all going to talk about your future self's visit and what we need to do about it during dinner, but I suppose that could wait. Anyway, I'm sure Geta and Vegeta will be hungry, so it won't go to waste," she murmured.

"My ears are burning," Geta called out from the hallway, where he'd been passing by.

Mrs. Briefs stepped out into the hallway. "I was just telling Bulma that I was thinking about making chicken pot pie for dinner tonight," she told him a little hesitantly, "but she and Hiroshi are going out to dinner."

Geta frowned. "But, weren't we going to-"

Mrs. Briefs held up her hands to quiet him. "Yes, we were, but..." She lead him away from the den and Hiroshi's prying ears; to add to her disappointment, Hiroshi had been smirking smugly at her when Bulma had made it clear that she and the horrid man would be dining out that evening. She sighed. "I don't want to add any fuel to the fire, you know?"

Geta's frown deepened. "Yeah, I know," he muttered darkly. "Kami, I hate that man."

"Now, Dear," Mrs. Briefs chastised gently as they entered the kitchen. "'Hate' is such an unpleasant word, don't you think?" She opened the refrigerator and leaned down to access the lowest shelf.

"You're right, it is. Just tell me truthfully that you don't hate your daughter's horrible boyfriend and I'll take back what I said." Although a little grin of satisfaction threatened to manifest itself, he managed to keep his expression neutral when his grandmother abruptly stood up straight to look at him, her lips pressed together in a tight line. "Heck, I'll even admit that I was wrong and encourage Mother to stay-"

"You'll do no such thing, young man," Mrs. Briefs interrupted irritably. She huffed in frustration when he crossed his arms and raised one heavy eyebrow in response. "All right, I hate him too. Now are you happy?" She plunked a large plastic container down onto the counter and shut the refrigerator with more force than necessary.

Geta went over to his beloved grandmother and put his arms around her in a gentle hug. "Gram, I wasn't trying to be right, but I assure you that agreeing with me doesn't make you a bad person," he soothed.

She looked up at him. "It doesn't?" she asked worriedly.

He smiled down at her. "Gram, Gram. You're always trying to see the good in everyone, but sorry, this one's a lost cause. This being the case, what's to love about the man?" He grinned when she giggled in response.

"Oh, Geta. You're such a dear, sweet young man," Mrs. Briefs informed him. "You always know just how to make this old lady smile."

"You're not that old, Gram. And I try my best," Geta assured her.

The kitchen door opened and Vegeta strolled in, his eyebrow taking a turn to rise. "What's with all the lovey-dovey crap?" he asked, opening the container and removing a piece of chicken.

"You'll stop that right now if you know what's good for you, young man," Mrs. Briefs threatened, stepping forward and waggling a finger at him as she spoke.

"Yes, Mommy," Vegeta responded, not seeming remorseful in the slightest.

"All right, then." Mrs. Briefs moved her chicken out of harm's way and got out a knife and cutting board. "I thought we'd have chicken pot pie for dinner."

Vegeta's brow creased in contemplation. "I don't think I've ever had that," he responded slowly. "Is it literally a pie prepared in a pot?"

"No, not exactly, but it's a deep dish pie with chicken, vegetables and gravy in it rather than fruit," Geta told him, amused by his father's sudden interest.

Mrs. Briefs giggled. The dear boy did very much like pie. "Seems like a 'yes' vote from your father, Geta," she commented.

"Could you use some help cutting up vegetables, Gram?" Geta offered as he poured himself a cup of coffee.

"That would be lovely, thank you," Mrs. Briefs responded.

"Father, would you mind grabbing the sack of potatoes off of the shelf please?" Geta requested as he too got out a knife and cutting board.

"I hate potatoes," Vegeta growled as he put them on the counter, earning himself a chuckle from his son and a peal of giggles from his son's grandmother. He smirked at the remembrance of Mrs. Briefs imitating Hiroshi's dislike of potatoes.

"Vegeta, you're so silly," Mrs. Briefs informed him.

Vegeta shrugged and poured himself his own cup of coffee. "I call 'em like I see 'em," he responded casually, lowering himself down into a chair.

The kitchen door opened and Anya strolled in, a child in each arm. "There you two are. Pops, Bulma left so could you take VJ for me?"

Vegeta set down his coffee and accepted his son. "What do you mean Bulma left? Did she go to her lab?"

Mrs. Briefs and Geta exchanged an uncomfortable look. "Mother went out to dinner with Hiroshi, Father," Geta told him quietly.

There was a long pause. Once again her contemptible boyfriend was more important than everyone and everything else. After everything that had happened that day, Vegeta just couldn't take any more. "I see," he responded, unconsciously repeating Mrs. Briefs' own response. No one said anything as he got up and settled his son in his high chair.

"Pops?" Anya ventured as her now sullen father-in-law headed for the kitchen door.

"I'm going out. Don't wait up for me," Vegeta responded darkly. He needed to blow off some steam and knew that if he didn't get out of there, he might do something he'd regret his family seeing.

"Da-ee?"

Vegeta stopped and went over to the two children. "I'll be back soon. Be good while I'm out, okay?"

Little Vegeta nodded solemnly, despite being able to see that something had made his grandpa sad. "Okay, Ganpa," he whispered.

"Dear, let me get you a capsule car," Mrs. Briefs offered before Vegeta could leave.

Vegeta shook his head. "No, that's all right."

"But Vegeta, it's so cold out and snowing too," Mrs. Briefs objected. He couldn't fly, do his teleporting trick, or even use his ki to stay warm. "I can't just let you go out like this."

"I'll be fine, Bunny. I'll wear a coat and the walk will do me some good," Vegeta assured the worried-looking woman.

Anya sighed as they watched the kitchen door swing shut. "This can't be good at all," she mused. "If he isn't back in a couple hours you should go find him," she advised her husband.

Geta nodded. "I hope it doesn't come to that. "We'll just have to wait and see what happens."

***

Loud laughter and cheers filled the bar as Vegeta downed still another shot without a physical reaction of any kind. He smirked as his current drinking opponent promptly passed out and slid to the floor with a thud. "Weaklin' number three," he announced in a loud voice, nudging the unconscious man in the ribs with his toe. He stood up, only to sway a little unsteadily on his feet.

"C'mon tough guy. Let's dance all that booze off," a pretty young woman suggested, taking him by the arm and coaxing him toward the dance floor. She smiled broadly at him. "Why don't you tell me something about yourself? You're unlike any other man I've ever met, so secretive and mysterious." If she played her cards right, maybe he'd finally let her take him home.

"Yup, I'm jus' an inneresting guy. I'm the life a parties I never attended." Vegeta grabbed a beer from a passing server's tray and held it up. "Shtay thirsty, my friends," he droned, earning himself more laughter from those nearby.

Vegeta grinned at their reaction to his imitation of what he had at first considered to be a completely stupid beer commercial. This was why he continued to frequent this bar and a couple other favorite establishments. The regulars appreciated him. They didn't treat him with contempt or disdain. They made him feel welcome.

Besides, the liquor made it all go away, at least for a while.

***

"Father!" Geta exclaimed as he appeared on the darkened street beside his father. "You had us really worried."

Vegeta staggered a few more steps. He hadn't been this wasted in a while, and had figured hey, why not? After the stupid bastard had blown off their plans, it wasn't as though he'd had anything better to do that evening. "Pssht, you din't hafta worry 'bout me, Shun," he slurred, shooing the notion away with a sloppy wave of dismissal. "'m fine, shee?"

Geta sighed. His father's speech was distorted and he couldn't even walk in a straight line. "You don't look fine to me, Father," he contradicted. "Let's get you home-"

"No!" Vegeta shouted, jerking away from his son. "I don' wanna go back ta her housh," he retorted contemptuously.

Sympathy stabbed through Geta's heart. Unfortunately, he could easily see how his father would feel that way. "Father, everyone has already gone to bed, okay? But Anya couldn't get to sleep because she was so worried about you." He laid a hand on Vegeta's shoulder. "Let's go home and sleep it off, shall we?" :I'm bringing him home, An.:

Before he could manage a response, Vegeta found himself in the den, where a worried looking Anya sat curled up with a favorite afghan Bunny had crocheted. She leapt up from the couch when they appeared. "Pops!"

***

Bulma sighed and got out of bed. She slipped on her robe and trudged out of her room. Sleep was evading her as well, so she decided that perhaps a mug of warm milk might help. She frowned, remembering what she'd been told earlier. Vegeta had become sullen and visibly upset when told of her departure with Hiroshi, and had left the grounds alone on foot. She had no idea where he'd gone, and the fact that he still hadn't returned several hours later bothered her greatly.

The lights were on in the den and she could hear voices, so she decided to peek in and see who else couldn't sleep.

"Geta? What's going on?"

Anya and Geta exchanged an uneasy look. "Well, Father's home now so we're all going to hit the sack. Nothing to worry about. Good night, Mother," Geta responded as casually as possible, taking a step forward.

Bulma frowned. "But it smells like..." She trailed off when she looked past her son.

What she saw completely unnerved her.

Vegeta was passed out on the recliner and fairly reeked of cigarettes and booze. His hair and clothes were damp, as if he'd been out in the snow for a while. While it didn't take a genius to figure out what had happened, Bulma couldn't keep from asking.

"What's going on here?" she demanded, too shocked to say anything else.

Anya stepped forward as well, unshed tears welling in her eyes. "Bulma, please," she pleaded. "Pops wouldn't want you to see him like this." She wiped at her cheek with the back of her hand. "It would only make things worse if he knew."

Bulma caught herself staring at Vegeta and snapped out of it. She knew he was smoking and that he had a drink now and then, but she'd had no idea that he would drink enough to get drunk, let alone enough to pass out. Why had she never noticed him inebriated before this?

It was then that the answer well and truly hit her- Vegeta typically made himself scarce when Hiroshi came around and his presence wasn't requested, and she'd been spending a lot of her time away from work with Hiroshi. A wave of guilt washed over her when she realized that she hardly ever saw Vegeta anymore, and the last time she'd spent any length of time with him, they'd had quite an ugly argument about Hiroshi. Was this typical behavior when he left? "Has this happened before?" she heard herself asking in a shaky voice.

Anya and Geta exchanged another uneasy look. "Mother, Anya's right," he began slowly. "Father really wouldn't want you to-"

"Just answer the question, please," Bulma interrupted, seeing her son was attempting to dodge the question.

Geta sighed and wouldn't meet her gaze. What was he supposed to say? His mother wasn't supposed to have walked in on this either.

Bulma took his silence as confirmation of her question. She let out a long sigh. "But why would he-"

This time it was Geta who interrupted his mother. "I know you aren't stupid, Mother," he said curtly, "so don't even go there. Can't you see that Father is suffering? Unfortunately, this is his way of dealing with it."

Bulma realized that she was gaping and closed her mouth. "This is his way of dealing with it? This happens all the time?" she asked in a small voice.

Before Geta could respond, Vegeta shifted on the recliner and let out a low groan. Geta waved his mother toward the door.

:You have to go. Now,: he added when she appeared to be hesitating. He shot a glance to his wife, who immediately got the hint.

"Come on, Bulma," she whispered, herding her mother-in-law from the room before Vegeta realized that she was there.

Geta held in a sigh and helped his father to his feet. "All right, Father. Let's get you to bed," he murmured, coaxing him out of the room and up the stairs.

Vegeta stopped suddenly as they reached his room. He shook his head as Geta reached for the knob. "No."

"Father? What's wrong? Oh..." He trailed off as Vegeta made a beeline for the bathroom.

***

Bulma rolled over and pulled her pillow over her head. She could hear what was going on across the hall even with the door closed. "It isn't my fault. He did this to himself," she whispered, unable to shake the guilt chastising her in the back of her mind.

This is your fault. He did this to himself because of you.

She rolled back over. "Shut up, shut up, shut up!" she growled in return, but it was no use. Her annoying conscience was right. He would never have engaged in such self-destructive behavior before their breakup.

During her future self's visit, a lot had been going through her mind, and knew she'd be doing a lot of thinking on more than the subject of this killer virus.

Vegeta had cried.

He'd been so upset by whatever B had told him that he'd actually broken down and cried, something she had never imagined him doing. She remembered the argument she'd had with her mother at the dinner table after Vegeta had returned. Could her mother have actually been obliquely confirming that he really had been crying on her shoulder? And now he was getting seriously drunk. She didn't know what to think, what to do even less so. She knew that she had to talk to him.

Bulma got out of the bed again and entered her bathroom, wincing as the sudden bright light assailed her vision. Removing a bottle of sleeping pills, she took two and got back into bed, morbid thoughts of guilt- and exactly what that guilt meant- running through her mind.

***

"Good morning, Shatsu."

Dr. Briefs smiled at the young man approaching him, rolled up plans tucked under one arm. "Well, good morning to you as well, Vegeta," he responded in greeting. "You look tired. Didn't you sleep well again last night?"

Fortunately for Vegeta he was continually getting better at dealing with a hangover; eyedrops, a cool shower, coffee, and the ruse that he hadn't slept well pulled the wool snugly over the eyes of most people. He felt guilty about deceiving Dr. Briefs, but he didn't want the older man to know about this particular problem. "No, not really. But don't worry about it. I'll get some extra sleep tonight. Meanwhile, I have something special for you." He indicated the blueprints in his possession.

Dr. Briefs brightened at the prospect of seeing what Vegeta had come up with. "Wonderful, my boy. Let's look at them over here." He cleared a few things from a large table and beckoned Vegeta over.

"Sure." Vegeta rolled out the oversized papers onto the desk and stepped back so the doctor could look at them, a little smile escaping when he lost no time in doing so.

"Oh, goodness..." Dr. Briefs murmured as he poured over the marked up blueprints. "Oh, my. I'm glad I had you look over these plans." There were quite a few changes that made a lot of sense, as well as some suggestions that sounded feasible too.

"Bulma went over them as well, so I can't take all of the credit," Vegeta told him. "She already ordered the work to start so Capsule Corp's employees could begin erecting the scaffolding before the contractor arrives to begin the actual construction. Doing it in-house will save quite a bit of money, and we have the manpower and the necessary equipment to do it."

"That's wonderful," Dr. Briefs responded, a measure of pride coming through in his voice. Now more than ever he was glad he'd directly involved the young man in the project.

"Want to go take a look? I think Bulma is already out there," Vegeta suggested.

"Let's go," Dr. Briefs agreed, grabbing a coat from a hook next to his desk.

The two men walked in companionable silence as they made their way over to the work site. "Yes, she's already here," Vegeta noted.

Dr. Briefs nodded and waved at his daughter. "Looks like they've made quite a bit of progress already," he commented.

Vegeta nodded. "They should have everything set up by the time the final plans are drawn up." He frowned. "Where's the foreman?" Albeit separately, he and Bulma had spoken at length with the man in question about the proposed changes, which had been favorably received.

Bulma stepped over to them, shivering from the cool late winter day. "He went back inside for a minute to answer a call from one of the suppliers," she told them. "It shouldn't be long. I told the crew they could take a break until he gets back."

Leaving them to their conversation, Dr. Briefs ventured over to the far side of the compound, where not much progress had been made. In his mind's eye, he could see where the new GR would be installed as he examined the print he'd brought with him. So engrossed was he in his observations that he failed to notice what was going on above him.

***

"I think it was a good idea to add a touchpad to this door here to-" A loud creaking noise interrupted Bulma mid sentence as she and Vegeta examined the blueprints together. They looked up toward the source of the noise, only to watch in horror as the scaffolding began to weaken in one area.

"That's going to collapse," Vegeta told her in no uncertain terms.

"Everyone get away," Bulma shouted. "It's coming down!"

The foreman ran up beside them, huffing from his exertion to get there as quickly as possible. "What happened?" he gasped.

"Jinsei tried to make a weld by himself," one employee reported, indicating a guilty looking fellow employee.

"I thought you would be happy if I got it done before you returned," Jinsei said sheepishly.

The foreman frowned. "You know you're not supposed to work alone, let alone unsupervised," he chastised. "What if someone had gotten injured?"

As if in response to his question, Bulma let out a gasp. "Oh no, Daddy!" she exclaimed. Her preoccupied father obviously didn't realize what was happening above him, and his failing hearing prevented him from acknowledging Bulma's cries.

Vegeta's eyes widened. He could make it there in time if he teleported or even flew, but he'd been ordered against either action. He tried his hand at shouting as he ran for the older man. "Shatsu!"

"What?" Dr. Briefs turned to see the scaffolding heave above him and stopped dead in his tracks, caught as still as the proverbial deer in the headlights. He slipped on a patch of ice, causing his bad knee to give out on him and sending him to the ground.

"Daddy!" Bulma screamed, running after Vegeta.

"Shatsu!" Vegeta got a sick feeling in his belly that he'd never make it in time as the scaffolding buckled further. But he had to try. "Shatsu!"

The scaffolding finally gave out and came crashing to the ground, causing Bulma to scream in agony. "No!"

"Dad!" To hell with the damn virus. There was only one thing for Vegeta to do, and he placed two fingers to his forehead, arriving just in time to snatch the older man out of harm's way, catching the brunt of the wreckage with his shoulder and wincing as his arm popped out of its socket.

Bulma ran up beside them, several other employees close behind. "Oh, Kami! Daddy!" She dropped to her knees beside the dazed scientist and the Saiyan huddled protectively over him.

Vegeta dragged the two of them out from beneath a piece of scaffolding. "Shatsu, are you all right?" he exclaimed anxiously, ignoring the screaming pain in his shoulder. "Shatsu!"

The doctor looked at him, a dazed look on his face. "Vegeta? What happened?"

Vegeta sighed in relief. "Can you stand?"

"I... I don't know," Dr. Briefs mumbled. "My knee..."

"I'll take you inside," Vegeta told him. He turned to Bulma, his demeanor instantly changing. "Meanwhile, terminate him," he snapped irritably, pointing to the now terrified guilty employee. Many of them had seen Vegeta's temper flare in the past for one reason or another, and no one envied Jinsei's position.

"Vegeta, can't we worry about that later?" Bulma told him nervously. She knew that Vegeta had grown fond of her father and couldn't help but worry how she'd keep the angry Saiyan in line.

"Terminate him," Vegeta repeated, his voice allowing no opposition, "or I will."

Bulma kept her reaction in check, although she had no doubt that injured or not, he was serious about the insinuated alternate meaning of the word. He was being extremely protective of her father. "I'll take care of it, Vegeta. Jinsei, you ignored my directions, and my father was nearly killed because of it. Go collect your things and meet me in Gai's office. Benito will escort you." She indicated a security guard who had joined them.

Jinsei's grief over the situation was evident. "Dr. Briefs, I'm very sorry for what happened," he apologized. "I never meant for anyone to be harmed." He left, the guard beside him.

***

"You can go in now," the doctor announced as he left the room.

Vegeta nodded and entered the small recovery room in the medical lab. "How are you doing?" he asked the man laying in the bed as he sat down in the nearby chair.

Dr. Briefs shifted uncomfortably. "I twisted my knee pretty badly. Other than that, I'm fine, thanks to you," he finished in a soft voice. "Thank you."

Vegeta waved that off with his free hand, as one arm was in a sling; the regen tank had not been repaired since his unfortunate incident on Gerdia. "Of course. And don't go saying you feel badly about my shoulder," he continued, seeing that the doctor had a rather guilty look on his face. "It will heal in no time at all. You should concern yourself with your injured leg."

The doctor gave him a shaky smile. "All right, then." He paused. "I'm glad you're here, Son," he murmured quietly.

Vegeta nodded. "I'm glad I was able to be of assistance."

Dr. Briefs shook his head. "That's not what I meant."

Vegeta's face softened as he realized what the doctor did mean. "You should get some rest," he responded, rising from his chair. "I'll leave you now." He'd been the last one to see Dr. Briefs and thought the older man looked tired.

Dr. Briefs watched Vegeta leave, feeling good about the conversation they'd had. He hadn't missed the expression on the younger man's face, just as he hadn't missed what he'd shouted just before teleporting.

Dad.

***

"Hey."

Vegeta looked up from the crossword puzzle he was working. "Hey."

Bulma sat down beside him on the couch. "I just wanted to thank you for saving Daddy today," she said quietly. "He would have been killed for sure if you hadn't stepped in."

Vegeta set down his puzzle. "You don't have to thank me," he told her. "I couldn't allow harm to come to him, especially since he has been so kind to me, all things considered."

Bulma nodded; what could she say to that? She hesitated briefly before reaching out to gently touch his shoulder. "Do you need something for pain?"

Vegeta gave her a look that clearly meant she knew better than to ask him that. "Pain killer, bah. You should concern yourself with your father's comfort, not mine."

Bulma blinked back the tears that threatened to slip down her cheeks. "I'm sorry, Vegeta," she whispered. "I never meant to hurt you."

Vegeta was tempted to ask her what she had indeed meant by all of the altercations they'd had but fought down the urge and nodded. "Me, too."

After a long mutual silence, Bulma got up from the couch since the lack of conversation in the room had become rather uncomfortable. She cleared her throat. "Anyway, I just wanted to express my gratitude."

Vegeta nodded again, but said nothing. He watched with sudden interest as she seemed to be warring over something in her mind. "What is it?"

Bulma drew in a deep breath, wondering whether she should be opening this particular can of worms with a man who prided himself in not displaying what he considered to be private emotions, especially since she had been a witness to his loss of control over them concerning whatever her future self had told him. He most likely figured that she was aware of it, given the way she had seen him leaving the kitchen with their son. If only she could have been the proverbial "fly on the wall" during that particular conversation. "Dad. You called my father 'Dad' today, and I wondered why," she told him.

Vegeta looked at her with confusion. "No, I didn't..."

She watched his face change as he realized that yes, he had indeed done as he'd just denied. Suddenly he scowled and got up from the couch.

"I won't apologize for what I said because I have nothing to be sorry for," he snapped angrily. "Your thoughts are no doubt debating between how convenient it was that I was there to save your father and how presumptuous I am to have said such a thing. Too bad for you that you're annoyed by that." He grabbed his magazine and stormed for the door.

Bulma stared at him in shock. "Vegeta, no! That's not what I meant at all," she objected, hurrying after him and reaching out to take his arm.

Vegeta wrenched away from her. "Hmph. Why don't you go waste some more time with your perfect little boyfriend, since he's obviously more important than anything else?" he snapped.

Bulma's jaw dropped. "Why you arrogant son of a bitch!" she shouted. "I come here to make sure you're all right and thank you for what you did for Daddy, and you have the audacity to say something so ugly to me? How dare you?"

"How dare you?" Vegeta spat back. "As I mentioned previously to you, your father has been nothing but kind and considerate to me, and you have to get up on your high horse and toss what I inadvertently said back in my face as though it were something abhorrent to you. I know you no longer care how I feel about what used to be between us and how I destroyed the only thing that really mattered in my life, but that doesn't give you the right to mock my interactions with everyone else, poking your nose into that which is none of your business."

It suddenly occurred to Bulma that he might actually see her father in a father figure way, and tears sprang to her eyes. "Vegeta, I'm sorry for what I said just now," she whispered. "I wasn't upset that you called my father 'Dad', honestly. I just didn't know that you felt that way about him, so I guess I was a little surprised, that's all." She sniffled and a tear rolled down her cheek.

He sighed. "Stop crying, Bulma. I shouldn't have said what I did either. I'm sorry too, okay?" He frowned when she began mopping at her face. How could he continue to be so weak? But it was his attempt to avoid appearing weak that had hurt her. Why was everything he did backfiring on him?

She looked at him with sorrowful blue eyes that made his heart wrench. "Can we just start over, please?"

He nodded. "I'd like that."

She managed a shaky little smile and accepted a tissue from the box he held out to her. "Thanks."

"You're welcome, Bulma," he responded.

Before either of them could say anything else, there was a knock at the den's door. Momentarily, Mrs. Briefs came in. "Bulma, Hiroshi is here," she said hesitantly, having waited a bit after the shouting stopped to interrupt them.

"Thanks Mom. Please tell him I'll be there in a minute." Bulma turned back to Vegeta after her mother had left. "I do care," she whispered, placing a quick kiss on his cheek before rushing from the room.

This argument had ended eerily similar to the last one, only the one making assurances that they did care had been reversed. Vegeta sighed and sank back down onto the couch, B's words running through his mind.

If you're serious about this, and I know you are, you need to find the way on your own. You already know one thing for sure that you need to do. You know what it is that she needs from you.

He knew exactly what B had been referring to. He just had to find the right opportunity and summon up the strength to do it.

~But she isn't your mate any longer,~ his mind reminded him. ~It is disgraceful to pursue the affections of another man's mate.~ And what if she didn't accept his sentiments, instead choosing her boyfriend over him?

Have a little self-respect. Stand tall, Vegeta.

Vegeta left the den and headed for the nursery to check on his son, his demeanor exuding confidence as he went. Yes, he would have self-respect. He would do what was needed to win back Bulma's love. He would be an honorable and considerate mate to her, cherishing her as she deserved.

He would stand proud and tall.