On the 2nd day of Christmas, my true love gave to me,

2 sweaty palms

Within minutes of arriving, Bulma was admitted to her private room at Sacred Hearts. Vegeta didn't leave her side, glaring at the nurse when she suggested he wait in the accompanying lounge. Only Bulma had the authority to dismiss him. Bulma was propped up in a luxurious hospital bed, looking pale, currently in between contractions. Vegeta pulled up at chair at her side.

"What do I do?" he asked her. He was out of his element, uncomfortable, but he did not want to abandon his wife.

Bulma smiled weakly at him. "Aw, hon, you can wait outside if you want. Call my mother, and Trunks, let them know what's happening."

Vegeta didn't like the sounds of leaving her with alone. He took in her fragile appearance, her drawn face, her fingers clutched so tightly over her blanket that her knuckles had turned white. Her blue eyes were filled with pain and uncertainty. She was putting on a brave face, but he could see right through it. "…Is that what you want? For me to leave?" he asked. He would, if that was truly her wish.

Bulma's smile faltered, and she shook her head. "…No. I'm terrified, Vegeta."

"Then I'll stay."

Her look of sheer gratitude told him he had made the right choice.

Bulma sighed with relief. Putting her hands on her stomach, she laid back against her pillow, waiting uneasily for the next contraction to hit. "I hope our daughter will be okay."

"She will. The last ultrasound said she was healthy," Vegeta reminded his wife, convincing himself as much as her. "There's nothing to worry about. All the other half-breeds have been born without incident. Saiyans are strong. Our daughter will be too… Just like her mother."

Please, let her be just like her mother.

Bulma smiled gratefully at him. "Thank you for being here with me. It means a lot."

"Hn."

Bulma gasped, sitting up, hunching over her stomach as another wave of pain hit.

"Aaagh!" she yelled, loudly, guttural. When she could manage it, she grabbed Vegeta's arm. "Get the doctor!" she gasped.

Vegeta did.

It all happened so fast. Within minutes Bulma was on her back, screaming, sobbing, a wild, primitive thing with only one objective: to squeeze the damn thing out that was causing her pain. Her eyes were burning, her teeth clenched in agony. She was absolutely feral.

Vegeta was overcome with awe.

She took his hand and he gladly let her have it, amazed with the strength she squeezed it with. He held her arm, their sweaty palms clasped tightly, and for a fleeting moment he was reminded of the times they were tangled up in bed, their hands clasped together much like now. Just such a moment had led them here.

Bulma curled on the bed, keening, her face damp with sweat and tears, her cheeks flushed from exertion. She was a warrior, fighting the battle of childbirth. She was stunning.

"I WILL MURDER YOU IN YOUR GODDAMN SLEEP FOR IMPREGNATING ME, YOU ASSHOLE!" she shouted at him.

Vegeta smirked, and looked at the nearest nurse. "My wife," he told her proudly.

~xox~