I Don't Have the Heart

By: Lehua

Disclaimer: DBZ is not mine, so these characters are not mine.

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Chapter 7

Goku hadn't been dropped on his head, but his tail had been cut off, so Bulma could see some logic in Vegeta's thinking. Perhaps losing his tail had been the catalyst that made it possible for Goku to love. But how did she know Goku could love at all? Maybe Saiyans really didn't know what love was; maybe she had assumed Goku loved Chichi because that's what he was supposed to do—as a normal human being. But Goku wasn't human, wasn't even partially human, so how could she say without doubt that he could love Chichi at all. If what Vegeta said was true, could she love him despite the fact that he could never love her?

Was there an equivalent to love for a Saiyan? They may not be able to love but that didn't mean they couldn't have a strong emotional attachment to another person. And wasn't that what love was anyway? An emotional attachment that caused people to put others before themselves, even if faced with death?

Bulma let these thoughts percolate in her mind for a few weeks. She hadn't returned to Vegeta's bed and he hadn't spoken to her since. He hadn't tried to coax her into a fight, and he appeared to be resigned to the fact that perhaps she didn't want him anymore. They avoided each other whenever possible and soon they were back to their routine before the GR exploded.

Vegeta both minded and didn't mind the change. Part of him wanted her to come back to him, wanted to have her with him, but the other part wanted to surpass Kakkarot, wanted to leave this sorry ass planet for new horizons—away from the meddlesome woman. He felt bereft at night without her, and angry at her and himself that one night could cause so much turmoil in his mind and body. How could one woman bring the mighty Saiyan Prince to his knees, wanting to beg her to return but unable to do so because of his pride.

Bulma found herself one morning kneeling over the toilet and throwing up. All the contents of last night's dinner came out and then some, leaving her body shaking and her throat burning. She leaned back onto the bathroom wall and thought, I'm pregnant. Her one night stand with the high and mighty Saiyan Prince had left her pregnant. She was on the pill, hadn't thought they'd need protection, hadn't thought much really except her body's response to him, and now she was left with his child growing in her stomach. Her period hadn't rolled along as scheduled, so she knew both logically and at a deeper level that she was pregnant.

"What am I going to do?" she said.

There was no way she could avoid this problem as she had been avoiding Vegeta. And he would know soon enough when the baby developed its own ki signature. She couldn't hide it from him, but she didn't want to tell him. What if he just left? Would she raise the baby alone? A child who would grow up to look like its father—would she not be plagued by Vegeta's image everyday of the rest of her life? "Of course, it could look like me," she said and laughed. But it would be his, and she would see the resemblance, and her heart would break every time she looked at her child. She could see why women would give up their children for adoption; she didn't know if she could look into her child's eyes and not die a little inside every time.

Bulma picked herself up from the floor, cleaned herself up, and went to the kitchen. "Now I know why I've been eating so kami-damned much," she muttered.

Vegeta was in the kitchen eating breakfast. He sniffed the air. "What's wrong with you, woman?"

"Nothing. Leave me alone," she snapped, grabbing everything that looked edible in the fridge and depositing it on the table.

Vegeta hadn't seen her much lately and mildly miffed at her tone. "Woman, you should address me-"

"I don't fucking care how I should address you, oh Prince-of-the-pain-in-my-ass," she said as she slammed cabinets doors and put her breakfast together.

Vegeta watched her fury as she threw together a breakfast that consisted of the oddest assortment of food: potato salad, ice cream, cereal, and pickles. There was definitely something wrong with her. He could smell bile, and he could tell her hormones levels were elevated too. Her posture was defensive, hunched over her food as she ate, and the amount she was eating was abnormal for her size and appetite. "Woman, because you are sick I will let your comments go this time, but you should see a doctor so that you can be back to 'normal' and I can avoid you whole-heartedly without worrying about your health."

Bulma eyed him but continued to eat her food. "I know exactly what is wrong with me, Monkey Boy; I do not need your opinion of what I should do. Besides, when do you care about anyone else besides you?"

She was right; why should he care? "You smell like bile."

She sneered. "And you smell like crap every time you come out the GR, but I don't mention it, do I?"

He leaned back in his chair and stared at her. "You're certainly in a mood this morning."

"Why shouldn't I be? You have talked to me in weeks and the first thing you say is 'what's wrong with you, woman;' you don't even address me by my name."

Bulma got up and threw her plates in the sink. Vegeta winced as a few of them broke and grated against the metal. He stood up, slamming his hands on the table. "Woman-"

"My name is BULMA: B, U, L, M, A. Get it right, Monkey Brain." She had rounded on him and was screaming, her face red from the exertion. "It's your fault that I'm sick." She poked him in the chest. "It's your fault that I smell like 'bile.'" She poked him again. "If you had just been yourself and not given into my advances, I wouldn't be having this problem." She turned away and stomped out of the kitchen.

"What are you talking about? How is any of this my fault?" he said, following her.

"You're intelligent. Figure it out." She left to go to her lab.

If the world was ending she would have blamed it on me, he thought. In all likelihood it would have been his fault if the world was ending, but that wasn't the point. How was her being sick his fault? They hadn't slept with each other in three weeks. He didn't have any diseases so there was no way he could be the cause of her discomfort.

"Woman," he said following her into her lab. "There is no way that I am the cause of your sickness. I have no diseases."

She threw something at him. "You're the disease! You are the disease that is plaguing me."

He dodged another projectile. "Woman, I'll have you know-"

"I don't want to know anything about you! I wish I hadn't let you stay here because then," she said, stepping up to him, "I wouldn't have this problem." She grabbed his hand and placed it on her stomach.

"Woman, what are you-"

And then he felt it, a little stir of ki coming from the weak woman. She was pregnant.

"Woman, you're-"

"Yeah, stupid, I'm pregnant. I'm taking the best drugs in the world to prevent pregnancy, and your super Saiyan sperm makes me pregnant. I don't know how Chichi isn't popping one out every nine months."

She turned to pull away from him but he pulled her back, keeping his hand on her stomach.

He was going to be a father. This woman, with whom he had spent one night, was pregnant. Whatever drugs she was on hadn't prevented her from getting pregnant, and while he was irritated by this new development in their relationship, he wasn't against having a child. He was surprised the galaxy wasn't littered with his progeny; no woman had claimed a child as his, but it would have been advantageous for them—if it were true—if they had, because he would have seen to their wellbeing. He was a mass murderer, not a monster.

"Woman, I-"

"I'm keeping it," she said, succeeding in pulling away from him and protectively covering her stomach. "Just because you're the father doesn't mean I'm going to get rid of it. It's got half of my genes which is more than enough to make up for any deficiencies in yours."

Did she think he'd let her abort the child? "Woman, I-"

"So don't you go thinking you have any right to tell me what I can do with my body; it's my baby too, and I will not-"

"Will you shut up for a minute?" he roared.

Bulma jumped back as if she'd been struck. He hadn't meant to be so loud, but she was getting on his last nerve, and he didn't want to be responsible for anything he did if she ripped it out of his head.

"Woman, I am not going to tell you to get rid of the brat."

"It's not a-"

He held up his hand to silence her.

"It is a brat because it's mine and that's what my progeny are: brats." He paused. "Because it is my child I will be here for it, and when I destroy this awful planet I will take it with me and it will be well-cared for. I will not abandon my child on this insignificant planet to live its life in stupidity and squalor."

"My planet is not stupid and I certainly do not live in squalor. This is the best home you're ever gonna find, and there is no way in hell you're taking my baby away when you leave." She got into a defensive stance.

"As if I'd fight you, woman; I can knock you over with my little finger. You would not be able to keep me away from what is rightfully mine—not even with Kakkarot's help."

"He seems to have bested you by becoming Super Saiyan first—I don't see how you'd get to the baby if I had Goku protecting us."

"Woman, no one would be able to protect you from me if you kept my child away from me," he said softly.

"I will not let my child be a monster!" she cried as she backed away from him.

"A monster? Is that what you think I am? Is that why you've stayed away from me for the last three weeks, hiding your pregnancy?"

"I was not hiding my pregnancy; I didn't know until today. And no, I wasn't staying away from you because you're a monster; it's because I don't want the heartbreak of falling in love with a man who can never love me!" She ran out of the room.

He let her go this time.

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Bulma ran to her room and threw herself onto her bed. That hadn't gone as she had planned. Something about him had made her put up her defenses as soon as she had entered the kitchen and it had been all down hill from there. As if she'd ever let him take away her baby! But could she deny him access to it? No. She hadn't thought he'd want the baby, and was trying to prepare herself for the shock of him denying her baby, but she was surprised when he claimed it as his own, and was mildly comforted that he would choose to take care of the child when he 'destroyed' her home planet.

She had stepped over the line when she had called him a monster. He wasn't a monster, and she never thought he was one, but it was out before she could stop and she didn't see how she could take it back. He had appeared hurt when she called him a monster, and it hurt her to remember the look on his face.

What made her think she could stop herself from falling in love with him? She was already in love. The evidence was clear; she had experienced withdrawal symptoms every night since they'd been together—uncontrollable shaking and vomiting. She was pregnant, but that didn't account for the shaking, and the dreams; more than once she had found herself at his door in the middle of the night, no doubt because of her sex dreams involving Vegeta.

She heard Vegeta's door open and close across the hall. It was early; he should be training. She gave herself a moment, got up, and made her way to his door.

"Come in," he said.

She opened the door and was greeted by the smell of melted wax. He had closed the curtains and was sitting in the middle of the room. "Are you meditating?" she said, closing the door behind her.

He grunted.

"Vegeta . . . I'm sorry for calling you a monster. You're not a monster; I didn't know what I was saying," she said.

He grunted.

"I mean, I'd just figured it out this morning, and then you were there and, I don't know, I felt the need to protect my baby. I thought you'd try to force me to abort it, and if that didn't work you'd just take it away from me altogether, and I didn't want you to."

"Woman, I wouldn't take your baby away from you."

"But you said-"

"You assumed we'd always be at odds about the baby. I assume that you will want to come with me after I destroy your little planet."

Go with him? Does he actually think I would let him destroy my planet? But if he did, would she want to go with the man who ended her world? If he had the baby, yes. He hadn't been saying he'd take the baby away from her; he had been saying that he would take them both away. He did . . . care.

"You assume that you will want to destroy the planet after the baby is born," she said, a small smile appearing on her face.

"I don't see why some brat would change my ambitions," he replied.

We'll see about that.

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Lehua: So, I know I screwed up about Goku being dropped on the head. I woke up this morning and was like, "wait, his tail was chopped off." So sorry, so sorry.

Vegeta: mutters That doesn't mean he wasn't dropped on his head.

Bulma: Vegeta! Behave yourself!

Vegeta: Don't tell me what to do, woman! he stomps away

Bulma: I'm sorry; he doesn't have any manners. You'd think being a Saiyan Prince he would have learned some.

Lehua: Don't worry about it. watches him as he goes away I like him just the way he is.

Bulma: narrows her eyes Hey!

Lehua: backs away Not what I meant! Not what I meant!

Bulma: leaves

Lehua: sigh of relief