The prompt:

So I found a screencap from, idk, I think it's Murray Povich, on tumblr, that says:

"Were You Involved In A Threesome And Now You're Not Sure Who The Father Of Your Baby Is?"

And with the Bulma/Yaumcha/Vegeta madness in this meme, now I kinda want to see an aftermath story that involves Bulma trying to figure out who the special baby daddy is.

The fill:

It was probably the most humiliating moment of her life. Even accidentally flashing Master Roshi because of Goku had been less horrible a moment than this. Or being nearly assaulted by all those hideous soldiers and being turned to a carrot during one of those misadventure. Even having been walked in upon by her father and those business men was less awful.

This is because you decided to get curious, drunk, and try something new and spontaneous! Well, way to go Bulma.

She stared down at the white stick in her hands, then went to tear at her hair for a few moments.

Goddamn. Just...goddamn.

That was certainly a plus sign. And this was definitely her third pregnancy test.

This sort of this shouldn't be happening to her. Stuff like this occurred on soap operas her mother and occassionally, disturbingly, Vegeta watched. Or on trashy afternoon talk shows that involved tossing of furniture around and wild cursing during arguments where the announcer would reveal who had cheated/knocked up/ran away with to boos and cheers from the audience.

How the mighty could fall.

Bulma Briefs was pregnant, and she didn't know who the father was.

It was like she had no idea whatsoever. Not like she woke up from another drunken orgy with no clear idea whom she'd just slept with. At least, at the very least, she had it very much narrowed down to two different men.

Two very, very different men.

One of whom would be giddy, exited, terrified after hearing the news. And after waking up from his dead faint. He'd be pleased though, happy to have a family. All big grins in his handsome face, hope in his dark eyes, running off quickly to tell the others who would give him high-fives and congratulations. It would be so simple. A good life with a relatively stable man. They would hash out their problems, for sake of the child, and learn to be happy together. Accept their problems and flaws. Watch him hold their child, helping him swing his first bat, teaching him about girls and how to fight...

And one of whom would probably blow this house up over that news. Possibly, possibly kill her. Just snap and go on a killing spree. Destroy the planet before Goku and the other could arrive to restrain him. Everyone would be so horrified after hearing the news, they would disown her and refuse to talk to her anymore. He would probably take off for space, and only return to fight the androids, and to maybe kill her and her child. Maybe.

Bulma began gnawing at her fingernails, a nervous habit she had never done before.

She was so, sooo fucked. What had she been thinking, not using protection? Drunk or not, that was incredibly stupid from a woman who was supposed to be very smart.

The birth control pills she'd taken after all had a fail rate, no matter how miniscule, and to just rely on them when so much was at stake—plus, they had tasted funny. Too sweet, like they'd gone bad somehow.

For God's sake, her and Yamcha had been on the outs and talking (yelling, screaming) about seeing other people. For all she knew, he was already in another relationship with a non-pregnant lady. One who didn't pressure him into drunk threesomes that got the woman knocked up. He, possibly, had already been bouncing between women and picking up STDs like Goku pulled fruit from trees.

And Vegeta, Kami, the man was an alien space pirate. He could be crawling with diseases, despite her initial idea that he was a virgin. Extra-terrestrial herpes or worse. All over him.

You even told Yamcha to stop and get lotion. But not a single remark about condoms? Goddamn.

Just...goddamn.

There was of course the whole terminating-thing to consider, that was always a choice...and yet. Yet she couldn't quite bring herself to go to some clinic or seriously consider doing such a thing. A baby was a catastrophic thing to her life, something that would utterly change everything, but, but that didn't mean she didn't want this baby. Her hand went to her stomach, trying to feel or sense the child growing inside her at all. A tiny little Brief.

But you could have at least made one of them pull out. Something.

Her logical sane part ordered her to get up and leave this bathroom before people began knocking on the door. It told her to get a blood test done, and find out who the father of her child was. Be rational and tell both of the men of her state and what had to be done. Yes, it will be painful, but so is ripping off a band-aid. Just one quick move-just a few words—and it would be done with. You had to do this, Bulma, you had to.

The part that allowed her to have an unprotected threesome told her to try another pregnancy test to see if this time it might turn up negative.

But, despite that bit of insanity and retardation, Bulma was very smart. She planned, writing down intricate ideas and scenarios for how things would go. Huge graphs to reveal reactions. A chart to follow different ideas. Different ideas for how to break the news, ranging from skywriting to a note passed to just walking up to them and going 'nice day, yeah, and I'm pregnant.'

Or burning everything, picking up martial arts, a penchant for large amounts of porn and strapping a turtle shell on to hide out at Kame House. Krillin would take her in and hide her, leaving her to cower in a dusty attic and pray to never be found again. Take a vow of celibacy and one for silence.

What, really, would she be leaving behind?

Although, that would probably be more difficult with the child and all. Teach him sign language? She had already decided to have and raise him, since who else could be trusted? Her mother? It was amazing she'd survived, given her mother's absentmindedness and her father's disinterest in anything that didn't have bolts attached.

Oh, no, wait; she could just leave the kid with its father. Yeah. That would go real swell. Yamcha would probably be scared to even feed it by himself and have nurses and schoolteachers flocking to his side to help him.

Vegeta would...no, she didn't even allow herself to imagine the Saiyan having to raise a child alone.

…he would eat it, probably. Or leave it somewhere with a soiled diaper, to starve to death. A little Vegeta, shoved into a corner of the room, left to die slowly.

Goddamnit, mind, just shut up. Don't make me think of these things!

Just let me think, will you? Get a plan going!

She took another pregnancy test, and called Yamcha. He picked up after she began threatening bodily harm on his answering machine, and didn't even make up some pathetic lie about just getting out of the shower or something. The fighter sounded past uncomfortable, into a stage of utter deadness that didn't bode well if he in fact was the father.

Her voice was sane and in control, light, almost flippant.

"So, hey, what are you doing? Can you come over for a bit?"

"Um. I don't know if that's such a good idea."

"Don't worry. Vegeta's out training and won't bother us."

"Uuhhh."

"No. I just need you over here, to talk."

"...are you sure Vegeta won't come inside?"

"Just stay low to the ground. Everything will be fine."

"..."

"I'm serious. I need to talk to you."

"I...guess I can come over. Just to talk though. Just that."

Of course, in the end, the craziness joined hands with sanity. She ended up doing one of his moves, yawning and throwing an arm around his shoulder. It took several minutes to finally calm him down, to get him relaxed enough for his guard to be let down. Bulma was all pleasantness, telling old stories and laughing rather than growing angry at some of the ones that involved her in a awkward way. Plied him with tea until he finally started to fall asleep on the couch.

She kept her temper in check for getting sleepy during one of her tales, and offered that he could sleep in a guest room. Yamcha couldn't see the gleam in her eyes, and agreed.

"You know, you know, Bulmy, I'm glad we're still friends. You're one of my best friends."

"Yeah, yeah. Now, how about you go lay down?"

Nor did the tall man awake when she crept into the room, dressed in rubber gloves, bearing a needle in one hand.

Even when she stabbed the guy in the arm and drew out blood.

...no wonder those Saibamen had killed him. No, no those weren't thoughts you should have about the possible father of your child. She ran before he could finally wake up, her eyes holding a manic look. This was it. All she needed was this bloody needle. She would take it to a lab, maybe her own and call up a doctor, and have it tested. If it was positive, Yamcha was the new proud Papa.

If it was negative...Kami help them all.

The one person to foil her plans was, despite the possibility of poetic justice, not herself. Goku came out of nowhere, holding handful of fruit, grinning goofily. Bulma could accept his sudden appearance, but not Vegeta's sudden scream in the background. She dropped the needle, watched it in slow motion tumbled through the air, to smash against the hard floor and gush blood everywhere.

She fell to her knees, again like someone from a daytime soap opera, clutching her hair and screaming, "Nooooo!"

He was eating a banana, and the scientist was too choked up to make the obvious joke. "Hey, Bulma. Watcha dooing?"

"Goku. Damn you, Goku! You've just completely screwed me over. Again."

"Huh?"

"What are you even doing here?"

The powerful alien took a step back. "Sorry. I just came to check on you guys. To see how you two were doing."

"What?" Bulma looked up, face still twisted in rage, hair falling into her eyes. "Who?"

"You and Vegeta." A calloused thumb innocently gestured toward the back of the house. Vegeta was still howling in rage.

"Beat him sparing again?"

"Oh, we didn't spare. I just powered up a little."

Goku's obliviousness to her situation actually made her feel oddly relieved. There was so much terror and pain and horror in her life, and he was so totally outside that. It was nice to see somehow happy in their life and their life choices. "I see."

"So what's that?"

"Nothing. Really. It's nothing." She scraped up the bloody glass, pushing it against the wall and out of the way. A robot would come by and clean everything up soon enough.

"Well. I got a little nervous about you two. Getting along alright?"

Which was an odd thing to say, since it seemed like he and Chi-Chi were fighting a lot. Goku was over here a lot more lately, skulking about and constantly wanting to check on how Bulma felt. And so was Chi-Chi, for that matter, coming by to drop off another box of cookies and have some girl chat with Bulma, mostly over how supposedly happy the dark-haired woman was over having a husband and a child. Gohan, too, seemed to be stopping by more.

Weird, now that she thought about it.

Although, a divorce and broken home sounded like it would perk Bulma right up and out of her situation.

"I guess we're-" She almost said that they were getting alright, better than they had before, until she remembered the last two months clearly. Oh, no, they were not fighting. They weren't talking at all in fact. Vegeta was determined to avoid her, and Yamcha for that matter. If she entered a room he was he, the short Saiyan would immediately flee. Once, when walking in on him talking to her father, the little man literally jumped out a window to escape. Her father had just scratched his mustache, while Bulma gaped at the open window and empty blue sky. "Well. That's odd."

"As well as to be expected."

"Huh. You know. Vegeta's not so bad. I guess. Sometimes. Girl, uh, they like him, right?"

The conversation was getting even weirder. Girls...definitely did not like Vegeta. Despite the skin-tight clothes, woman ran rather than flocked to coo over him. He was the polar opposite of Yamcha in this as well. As far as she was aware, Bulma was the only woman who ever really eyed the muscles visible through his armor and how pleasant it was to watch him bend over to fuss with the TV.

"No. They don't."

"Oh, um. But." Was Goku trying to look conniving? "You do, right?"

"Like him? Like him!" There weren't words in a human language to describe how she felt for Vegeta. A mixture of loathing and admiration and fear and slimy lust that made her ashamed of herself, a little. And that was before the threesome. Now, now there was all of that combined with shame and awkwardness, and a little more fear.

"Right?"

"...compared to others. I think you, me and sometimes Krillin are the only people he talks to?"

"He hangs out with Krillin?"

"It's more like Krillin comes over, and Vegeta stands his presence for five minutes."

"But you and Vegeta are getting along alright?"

"He hasn't killed me yet."

"That' s good. That's really good." Strangely, Goku beamed.

She supposed it was good, objectively speaking...but of course Vegeta didn't know she was pregnant. If he, when he learned (she supposed a baby couldn't be hidden from the Saiyan), then he would go insane and on a murder spree. It might be captured on the news and bring the others over, but not in time to save her. Maybe it was almost fitting, what with everyone else dying, that she should finally have a turn in the Other World?

…but it wasn't fair! All she did was get a little (okay, a lot) liquored up and talk Vegeta and Yamcha out of their pants! That didn't deserve death! And neither did the kid. Sure, sure, he might be a Sayain and therefore bloodthirsty/always hungry/stupid, but that didn't mean he deserved to die.

For a second, she could imagine her son inside her, dark-haired and -eyed, tiny, possibly with a tail and a stupid haircut. Curled up and defenseless.

So...so precious.

He needed his mother. Alive. Not necessarily a father, but definitely a mother to watch out for him and feed him and try to make him civilized.

"I don't care about Vegeta at all! He can go rot in his training chamber, or in space, for all I care!

"I don't need him."

Goku looked alarmed, all big eyes that reminded her of Bulma's stupid drunken flings. "Um. You sure?"

"Yes. Now get out!" Before you wreck something else and destroy my life some more! And she didn't care whether or not that was fair. She was a mother now, and if Chi-Chi got away with doing her crazy mom-routine, then so should Bulma. She was free now, to yell at everyone a lot more now.

He walked out, boots shuffling and chin nearly touching his chest, like Krillin after another rejection. "Okay, Bulma."

"Now." She told the empty room with forgotten gritty glass crunching underneath her boots. "What the hell do I do now?"

The answer came after spending an hour clutching her head and trying to force her brain to work. Clouds cleared away as the brilliant truth came shining in, and Bulma felt a deep spiritual forgiveness and love for every animal on this green planet. Must have been the pregnancy hormones kicking in early. Regardless, she rose from her huddled form on the lush carpet of her bedroom with a smile.

She would take a leaf from her oldest friend's book, and be casual about the whole thing. She would do what Goku Would Do. All acting so innocent no one would suspect a thing. The blue-haired scientist went over the entire event that would occur as she walked through the clean halls of Capsule Corp:

"Say, Vegeta, let me get a blood sample from you?

"For what?

"Oh, just an experiment. No big deal. Just let me get some fresh blood from you. What, don't tell me you're afraid of a little needle? Like Goku! Hah!"

He would immediately sneer and roll down a sleeve for her to stab him with.

Of course, this all depended on whether or not he'd freak out at the sight of her. They had yet to be alone in a room since the...event. Would he scream in fright if she came before him, baring a needle and a challenging look? Or act as though nothing were wrong? Or smash through a wall to flee from her, a manic look to his eyes, hair flying backwards in more disarray than normal?

"Vegeta? Yeah. Need some of your blood. Why? Because I'm pregnant and the kid might be yours. In order to tell, I have to have a blood test done and-

"Oh fuck."

Several pairs of eyes, in different shades and shapes, gazed back at her. Of course, sure, yeah, it would make sense that everyone would be in this damn room. Like they'd been waiting for her.

It was hard to say who looked more horrified: the rumpled ex-bandit, or the murderous ex-space-pirate. If she was pressed into an answer, Bulma would go with probably the pirate. Probably.

Out of everyone, only Goku looked truly pleased.

Her mother was the first person to say anything. "You're pregnant! How wonderful!"

Dad barely looked up from a contraption in his hands to nod at her. Later, the fully effect of this moment would hit him and he'd rush to her to hear more information and ask frantic questions. But for now, his brain was only handling about fifteen percent of what he was hearing. "Yes, dear, congratulations."

Yamcha and Vegeta looked both alike, and completely different. One angular where the other was square, short rather than tall, narrowed, suspicious eyes as opposed to wide eagerness. Both their tanned faces had identical horror etched into them.

"You're pregnant." It was hard to say whether or not Yamcha was gibbering more, or attempting to hold back his vomit more. "You're pregnant!"

Vegeta was looking at her stomach like it was a pipe bomb with a lit fuse.

"You're pregnant! How!"

"Well. Yamcha." Goku rubbed his chin like Master Roshi would. "When two people, they get naked-"

"Goku. Shut up."

"How are you pregnant!" Yamcha was literally wringing and wagging his hands. His skin was gray beneath the tan.

Bulma gave him a look that made Vegeta in turn do a compulsive grab at his stomach. Yamcha just stared at her with dull eyes.

"And the father..."

"Well, Yamcha! I'm not really sure! Goddamnit. This is your fault! You and him!" She gestured toward the Saiyan. At both of them. Her admittedly tenuous hold on the situation slipped.

"That's so like you. To blame everyone else!"

No one had expected Yamcha to fight back, apparently. They all thought that he would roll over for her, all the time. But Bulma could have told them that the tall fighter did indeed have a spine that showed up at the worse time. "Wow."

"You're normally so careful with that! Paranoid, even. Like that time with the saran wrap..." He kept grabbing and tugging at his hair.

Vegeta appeared to be rocking back and forth in his seat. Talking to himself as the dark shadows beneath his eyes grew heavier. "Pregnant. The woman is pregnant."

"So, who's the father?"

"...see. That's the problem." Bulma couldn't quite meet their eyes. Or look at her parents. Or even Goku. God, she wished they weren't here.

"You have no idea, do you?"

"I-! Have some idea! It's between um, you two. Jeez. Like I'm going around sleeping with every guy I see."

"Yeah. Or else Krillin would be here every day."

"Shut up, human! Both of you. Just..shut up."

"This is your fault too! Why didn't you-" She paused, remembering the others in the room. "You- know-what."

"God, Bulma. This is crazy. Wait. Did you draw my blood? Is that why I was bleeding earlier?"

"Congrats. You finally managed to put two and two together. This is exactly why I dumped you."

"Oooooh."

"Yamcha, you're not going to let her talk to you that way, are you?"

"What?"

"C'mon. She's insulting you. Shouldn't you say something back?"

"About her hair?"

"Shut up Vegeta! All of you—get out! Now!"

"Make us! Kami, Bulma, you might be carrying my kid! You can't expect us to just skip away after hearing that!"

"I'm going to raise this kid! Do you understand! Me. And only me."

"Well..." Goku was mumbling into his tea cup. "Unless we defeat those androids."

"What?"

"Woman, is that child mine? How do you not know?"

"I don't know, goddamnit. There's no simply way to check. I need blood samples from you both."

The smaller Saiyan looked incredibly wary. "What would that consist of?"

"So, dear, were you dating Vegeta and Yamcha at the same time?" Bulma's mother suddenly asked. "That doesn't sound very fair."

Yamcha couldn't play it cool at all, and began shifting guiltily in his seat. Vegeta got this thousand-yard-stare on his face. Bulma sighed.

"Let's just get a DNA test done. Tomorrow. Bright and early."

The ex-bandit leaned his head back, and rubbed at his neck. Vegeta blinked slowly, then rubbed his eyelids in a very human gesture. Her mother got up to make more tea, and her father wandered off to his basement lair. Goku sat there with cookie crumbs on his shirt, and smiled.

"Can I call Chi-Chi and tell her I'm staying over tonight? Oh, and can I stay over tonight?"

The night ahead loomed.

She got the chance to really see what Goku would do in this situation as she watched him help everyone in this difficult time period. Patted Yamcha on the back after his initial relief, then sadness, then depression, then pity for her. Kept Vegeta from blowing up the house, hugged the screaming, wretched short man who only howled louder in protest, and led him away to his spaceship where the Saiyan could recuperate. And now here, at her side, offering words of advise such as, "don't shake the baby, that only make them yell harder" and "when the baby comes out, it's going to be all bloody and weird looking, but it's supposed to look like that, so don't freak out" and "me and Chi-Chi, we'll totally help watch out for the kid. He can come train with me and Gohan!

"Now. I should go back and tell Chi the good news."

"Goku, just promise me you won't tell anyone about this. Please. Keep your trap shut. Even to her. And Gohan. Especially Gohan. This would only confuse him."

"Well, sure, if you want me to. Just take care. You know. Don't let Vegeta have a heart thing instead of me."

"Yeah. Whatever."

"...Bulma?"

"Hmm?"

"I, uh." The tall Saiyan looked inexplicably guilty. "I want to confess something."

"Sure. What?"

"Um. Promise you won't get angry?"

She narrowed her eyes, deciding to reneg on that promise if Goku had done something really, really bad. "Fine."

"You know, those pills ladies take to not have babies?"

"...yes."

"And you have 'em? Well, uh. Don't get angry! But I kinda took them out."

Bulma gaped at him. "But there were pills in there!"

The spiky familiar hair nodded. "Yeah. I took them out. But replaced them with candy."

"-You did what?"

"I had just flushed them down the toilet. But Chi-Chi said you would notice that, and Gohan recommended using the candy, to replace it."

There was too much craziness in that sentence to parse just one phrase.

"...what?"

"Well. You guys needed, um, should have a baby by now. And I wanted to help. Gohan and me, we watched this movie, about this guy going back in time—Nevermind."

"What is wrong with you!"

"I really, really wanted you to have a baby! That's all!"

"You need to get out. Get out and never darken this doorstep again, Goku."

"Huh. You sound like Chi-Chi."

"Get out!"

"Talk to you later-Good luck with the baby!"