Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ You're What?! ❯ Three Months Later ( Chapter 8 )

You're What?! Chapter 8: Three Months Later

Trunks panted heavily, his eyes darting quickly around the room. Then, faster than the normal eye could see, he spun around and blocked a punch that would have hit him square in the back of his head. Knocking away the larger fist, Trunks fell to the ground and attempted to take his attacker's feet out from under him; however, he wasn't fast enough and his opponent easily jumped out of the way. Rolling onto his back and flipping back up onto his feet, Trunks once again went on the offensive, throwing numerous kicks and punches. They were all blocked with the greatest of ease and Trunks let out a low growl of frustration, which only caused his adversary to smirk and let out a small chuckle of amusement at the boy's spirit. Trunks, mistaking the smirk to be mocking his inability to hit his sparring partner, quickly thrust his hands forward and let off a ki blast. His target immediately phased out, completely dodging the blast and reappeared directly behind the lavender-haired prince. Before Trunks could react, the man had his arms pinned behind his back. The boy tried to squirm out of his grasp but found that he couldn't. Trunks growled again. He hated losing.

"I think that is enough for today son." Vegeta said, letting go of his heir's arms. Trunks spun around quickly, his eyes lit with a dangerous fire that reminded him so very much of Bulma's eyes when she was in a fit of anger. He glared up at his father and crossed his arms over his chest, his whole body screaming discontent.

"That's not fair! I could have broken out of your hold dad. I want a rematch." Trunks stated stubbornly. Vegeta looked down at the frowning boy and smirked. He was not used to Trunks showing such enthusiasm for his training, but since Bulma had told him that he was going to be a big brother, his need to be a protector had kicked in. The boy's recent dedication to his training definitely reminded Vegeta of whose son he was and it made him proud. Vegeta's smirked broadened into an almost smile: almost. He would never forget when Bulma had brought the boy home from his overnight visit at Kakarrot's house a little over three months ago. The Saiyan Prince had almost fallen over to see his normally lavender-haired child with pitch-black hair. Bulma had not been pleased; however, Vegeta had liked the change. It did make the boy look more Saiyan. But then again, aside from the eyes, with his hair dyed black Trunks looked a little too much like his father for Vegeta's liking. Bulma had called Trunks "mini-me" for the duration of the boy's 'Saiyan experiment', as she so liked to call it and it annoyed Vegeta, and Trunks, to no end. Looking at the boy before him, Vegeta decided that he definitely did prefer the boy with his natural hair. He was just the right balance of himself and his mother.

"You can have a rematch tomorrow. It's almost time for lunch and I'm starving, so although I appreciate the enthusiasm, you are just going to have to be patient." Vegeta responded while walking over to the controls of the gravity chamber, and without warning to his son, returned the room back to normal gravity.

"Dad!" Trunks whined as he lost his balance and fell over, suddenly feeling too light due to the drastic change in gravity. Trunks pushed himself off the ground and glared up at his father, whom returned his look with a blank expression.

"What?" The Saiyan Prince asked, as if he had no clue what his son was complaining about. The boy was just about as easy to bait as his mate was.

"Nothing," Trunks mumbled as he followed his dad out of the gravity room, staying a safe distance behind him. Watching his father's back, Trunks slowly smirked, mischief clearly written all over his face. Oh this meant war.

Bulma sat on one of the leather couches in the living room, a plethora of food surrounding the immediate area around her. Now mind you, she wasn't eating all of it. It was just that she couldn't decide what she wanted to eat. She'd started out with some Oreo's, but then realized she wanted something salty. So then she went and got some different bags of potato chips. But, after eating a few chips, she decided that what she truly wanted were pretzels and saltine crackers. Those didn't work for long either. She'd wanted something sweet again; however, the Oreo's still didn't sound appeasing. That meant she had to raid her personal ice cream stash. First came chocolate, which she finished off; there wasn't that much left. Next was vanilla, but that was too plain; hence, the mother-to-be finally settled on rocky road. After a few bites, Bulma was beginning to feel that urge for something salty again, but it wasn't as strong this time. So, Bulma being the genius that she is, had decided on a compromise. She was now using the pretzel twists to spoon out the rocky road ice cream. In all actuality, it was pretty good.

Bulma sat camped out on the couch, her comfort foods all around her, as she watched television. Her soap operas were on, and considering that the blue-haired scientist didn't get the chance to watch daytime TV very often, thanks to her hectic schedule at work, she was going to enjoy this opportunity to its fullest.

"Oh, you can't go on commercial now!" Bulma said to the TV, as though it would do her bidding. "It was getting to the best part. I need to know if Ryan is truly Shelly's long lost sister!" The woman then shuddered at the thought. "I hope not," she mumbled, as she scooped out some more ice cream, "considering that they just got married."

The pregnant woman sighed as she watched the commercials that played across the huge screen. She was about to flip the channel until her show came back on; however, a commercial caught Bulma's attention. It showed a father dancing with his daughter, who had obviously just gotten married. Then there was a voice over, apparently the father, who was reminiscing about watching his little girl grow up. Shots flashed across the screen of a little girl on the beach playing with her father, an older girl playing softball, an even older girl graduating from school, and now getting married. The man continued to say how hard it is to have to now let his little girl go, for she belongs to someone else, but at least he was there to share in her big day; thanks to Southwest Airlines. Normally, Bulma would have thought this to be a stupid commercial, it was way too sentimental for an airplane commercial. But, seeming as how her hormones were out of whack, thanks to the bundle of joy she was carrying, Bulma found herself crying hysterically. That was how Trunks and Vegeta found her as they entered the living room on their way up to their rooms to shower.

Both males froze mid-step at the sight of Bulma and exchanged glances of dread, looking for all the world like two deer caught in the headlights. Vegeta motioned for the boy to be quiet and go back the other way. Hell, he could just hop out a window and fly on over to his room. It was a lot easier than having to deal with an overly emotional pregnant mate! Trunks nodded and quickly turned to leave when a cleaning-bot came rolling into the room.

"Good afternoon sirs," the machine greeted as programmed and continued on its way to the now empty gravity room. Bulma immediately turned from her position on the couch and stared at the men in her life with teary eyes. Trunks slapped his forehead, flabbergasted that a stupid robot had blown their cover, while Vegeta raised his arm to blast the meddling robot. Trunks, seeing the murderous glint in Vegeta's eyes, quickly jumped on his father's arm and lowered it. Blowing up one of his mom's robots was not going to be the way to settle her down.

"Oh Trunks," Bulma said between sniffles, "Vegeta. Am I glad you are here."

"What's wrong Mom?" Trunks asked, rushing over to sit next to his mother when he saw all of the food scattered around her. Grabbing the bag of Oreo's, Trunks started munching on the cookies as he sat facing his mother. Bulma looked at her son, her baby, sitting in front of her. He was growing up so fast. She could remember when he was just a toddler. His first steps, his first words, his first training session with his father. The days when she still tucked him in at night and read him a story. But those days were long gone. Soon Trunks wouldn't need her at all! Therefore, instead of answering her son, Bulma just started sobbing even more. Vegeta, who was still standing behind Bulma shot his son a glare that pretty much said: Way to go. Now she is even worse than before. Trunks looked at his mother in confusion. What had he said? Well, one thing was for sure; Trunks had no idea what to do.

"Well, since everything seems to be in control down here, I think I'll go freshen up for lunch." Trunks said all in a rush, and before Vegeta could stop the boy, he had raced upstairs, a trail of Oreo's in his wake. Great. Just Great. Now Vegeta was down here all alone with a mate that was crying hysterically. What was he supposed to do? Vegeta turned his eyes skyward. Someone up there had a twisted sense of humor. To think him, the Prince of all Saiyans, attempting to calm a hormonal female. It just didn't compute. Well, he wasn't going to be getting anywhere if he didn't know what was wrong.

"Bulma, what is bothering you?" Vegeta asked gruffly, as he came around to shut off the TV. Bulma looked up at him with red, puffy eyes, sniffling quite loudly. She started swiping at the tears that were coursing down her face and took a few deep breaths in an attempt to calm herself. She knew Vegeta hated it when she cried, and by his tone of voice, he was not happy about talking to her right now. Who was she kidding? All she ever did was make her husband mad at her. Vegeta watched helplessly as his wife appeared to be settling down on her own accord, but then just as quickly started crying all over again. This was getting ridiculous. "Woman," Vegeta called over her wailing, stating the title he used only when he was getting angry," what are you crying about. Both Trunks and I have asked and you have not answered. How can either one of us attempt to help if you won't talk? Perhaps I should just leave you-" Vegeta never got to finish his sentence as Bulma finally spoke up.

"I knew it! You're going to leave me again, aren't you? Just like with Trunks." She bawled, not listening to the rational part of her mind that told her she was just being silly. All Vegeta had planned on saying was that he was going to leave her to cry by herself, not actually leave her forever.

"If you truly believe that then you are a bigger dolt than I thought." Vegeta snapped, somewhat hurt that she would accuse him of such a thing, emotions or not. Bulma hiccupped a few times as she tried to control her sobs; her anger starting to cut through the depression that had come on.

"How dare you come in here and insult me!" Bulma yelled, getting up off the couch to stand before her husband. "You have no idea what is bothering me and it is not like you care either."

"I don't know what is wrong because you won't tell me!"

"You could have asked nicely!"

"I don't do nice." Vegeta practically spat out. By now, Bulma's index finger was jabbing at his chest and her eyes flashed with that same fire he had seen in Trunks' eyes earlier. The prince took his mate's hand and forcibly removed it from his chest. He hated it when she would poke him during an argument. "Now," Vegeta began through clenched teeth, "will you tell me what is wrong? You are moodier than normal today."

"Well excuse me!" Bulma exclaimed, throwing her arms up in frustration. "I am so sorry that my emotions are an inconvenience to you. How do you think I feel? Huh? I'm the one that has to deal with these ridiculous mood swings. Do you know what it is like to be completely happy one minute and then depressed and crying for no apparent reason the next minute? I don't think you do." She stressed this last point by once again jabbing her index finger at Vegeta's chest, punctuating each word.

"Of course I don't know how it feels. I'm not a silly female. Thank Dende for that!" Vegeta threw back at his wife. "How do you think I feel? I have to put up with your emotional bullshit for the next five months."

"What do you want Vegeta? A medal?"

"What?" Vegeta asked confused. He had no idea what she was talking about. Why would he want a medal? "Don't try changing the subject with me Bulma."

Bulma rolled her eyes at her mate's lack of understanding. Suddenly she just felt drained, she didn't want to fight anymore, she just wanted to sit down and rest. Turning her back to Vegeta she went back to the couch and sat down and put her head in her hands. Vegeta growled as he looked at his mate, berating himself for how awfully he had handled the situation. He knew it wasn't Bulma's fault she was as messed up as she was, it apparently happened to most human females when they became pregnant. It was just that Vegeta didn't know how to handle his emotional mate, anything he said seemed to either make her fall into a blind fury or into hysterical sobs. He couldn't win. That's why, overall, he tried to avoid her like the plague whenever she was like this.

"You know what Vegeta?" She asked rhetorically. "I don't care any more. I'm tired and I don't need to waste my energy arguing with you. I'm sorry that I bothered you." She then got up off of the couch slowly and started to leave the room. Bulma wasn't surprised in the least when she felt two strong arms wrap around her waist, halting her progress. Vegeta held his mate closely, his hand resting on the small bulge of her stomach where the baby was beginning to show.

"Where do you think you are going, woman?" Vegeta spoke softly into her ear, his voice both threatening and seductive.

"I'm going to the library." She answered simply.

"You never told me what was wrong." He said in an eerily calm voice.

"There is nothing wrong Vegeta," Bulma replied, frustration creeping into her tone of voice. "There was just something on TV that made me start thinking depressing thoughts. My hormones did the rest. Is that ok with you?" She felt herself be spun around none to gently, and she stared up into the face of her husband. Although his face did not reveal anything, Bulma could tell he was pissed. You could see it in his eyes.

"You will not take that tone of voice with me! I may not be the best at dealing with emotions, but I was at least trying. You are doing nothing but throwing my attempts at kindness back in my face." Vegeta hissed, almost choking on the word 'kindness' as though it almost killed him to say it. "Perhaps you would like it if I handled things like I did when you carried Trunks. Is that it?" The angered prince said in a deadly whisper, causing Bulma to shiver. "That can be arranged." And without any warning, Bulma was released from her husbands grasp and he was gone.

Bulma quickly raced up the stairs and into their bedroom, assuming that was where her husband had fled. Glancing around, Bulma found the room to be empty. Crossing the room she pushed open the door to the master bathroom and was disappointed to find it as deserted as the bedroom.

"Vegeta?" Bulma called, hoping her furious mate could hear her calls. She hated it when she pushed Vegeta too far. Sometimes she just didn't know when to quit. "Vegeta, I'm sorry!" She came out into the hall and looked about wildly. He wasn't coming. "Oh Vegeta, please come back." She whispered to herself as she started back down the stairs to check the Gravity Room. Just as she had expected, Vegeta was not there. With a sinking pit in her stomach, Bulma slid down the wall next to the GR's door. She knew Vegeta would not be anywhere on Capsule Corps. grounds. He was mad and insulted. She just hoped he didn't stay that way for long, or else she couldn't guess the next time she would see her husband.

Like always, please read and review. The last chapter didn't receive too many reviews and I'm beginning to think that people may be losing interest in this story. I hope not! But if that is the case, I may just discontinue it and work on other projects. I'm not trying to sound rude….but, I thrive off of feedback! ;) Thanks to those of you who did review! I truly appreciate it.

Until Next Time…