Recap: Bulma is faced with delivering life-changing news to Vegeta and accepting the outcome. Which way the wind blows in the prince's homeland of Hegemone depends on future leadership. For now, the prince is doing the hard work to recover his health.

9 a.m., April 9, Monday

Brooklyn, New York

"Confirmation"

Almost five weeks had passed since Bulma confirmed her pregnancy. She hadn't spent days crying or fearing the worst. Rather, she had thrown herself into working to cope with the initial shock. Her nausea was subsiding, thankfully, boosting her energy and focus. She hovered over her drafting table, staring at a piece of sketching paper slightly larger than her typical choice. After reviewing women's fashion styles from the 1920s and 30s, she opted to design a silk gown, with a bias cut. Instead of drafting a bodice top, she wanted the fabric to drape over the contours of the shoulders and forearms. The color: sapphire blue. The patron had instructed her to eschew all intricate decoration: no lace patterns, small buttons, and definitely no jewel sequins.

Her soon-to-be child's grandmother would likely be pleased with the work. Now, Bulma considered how to avoid sending the queen to an earlier grave. None of the royals knew about the pregnancy yet. Tights had tolerated her sister's pensive silence for a while. Patience, however, wasn't her strongest attribute. Bulma needed more emotional support, she thought, especially now that Zeus had died. The sisters had to clear the air first, though.

Tights figured the best way to keep Bulma from withdrawing further was by giving her work. She brought clothing for alterations, including tattered pieces for practice designs. Bulma picked through them, frowning. How naïve did her sister think she was? She sat next to the pile on the sofa and began to stencil.

"Honestly, Tights, you could've done this yourself - or used the dry cleaners next to your building." She glanced at her stomach and said, "You're here to discuss the obvious."

Tights nestled into an armchair and stared hard at her. "Well, yeah. You're bottling up your feelings, Bulma, and I can't take it anymore. Enough time has passed."

"For what?" Bulma removed her reading glasses "Don't order me around, either."

"To discuss what's happened, honestly."

"I haven't been dishonest with you about anything, Tights."

"You also haven't said much at all – to me – since you found out. There's a lot to think about, including whether to tell Vegeta if you want to have it."

Bulma crossed her legs defensively. "Not telling him hasn't crossed my mind – and, yes, I want to have our child."

"Look, I don't want to argue, but please help me understand. How could you two have unprotected sex? I know we joked about it long before you got involved, but Vegeta really has been a callous lothario and whoremonger for most of his adult life. More than I ever considered. Olivier told me some of the prince's history. I would take pregnancy over a deadly, sexually transmitted disease on any day, Bulma, but why didn't you give yourselves a fighting chance against both, at least?"

Bulma's icy blue eyes stared straight through her. "Back off of the insults - right now - because they're not helping. Did Olivier also say how much he cares for Vegeta? Do you really think our cousin, of all people, would've remained a loyal friend since their university years if there was nothing good about the man? Also, I know for a fact that Olivier would never call a Vegeta a 'whoremonger,' because he's not."

Tights' appraisal of Vegeta's history had been truthfully delivered with gross exaggeration, Bulma thought. Reality fell somewhere in between – although she believed Vegeta's denial of ever using prostitutes. Locking horns with her sister wasn't on the schedule, but so be it. None of their sexual histories had been pristine, and Bulma found it ironic that her sister seemed to have forgotten, conveniently.

"But you are family," Tights replied. "Just listen to yourself. You have fought hard to keep women from being exploited by powerful men your entire life – in the fashion industry, no less!"

"May I remind you that 'whoremonger' is a sexist word, too?" Bulma said before throwing her sketch pad on the floor. "I don't have to justify anything Vegeta and I have done together. Your problem is I haven't confided in you about every detail about my relationship with him. What makes you think I haven't considered any of these issues on my own? I knew the emotional risks. I chose to engage with him, on my terms. I also offered Vegeta opportunity to learn more about himself and I have learned more about me - and, yes, I care for him. He's also known from the beginning that I would never try to tie him down."

"Yeah, well, he might change his mind now that you're having a child," Tights said skeptically. "Perhaps that's why you're taking more time than you should to tell him?"

"He might," Bulma replied. "I doubt it, though. He knows how I think. No one in his position can be trapped into accepting a child unless they allow themselves to be. I have used birth control for years. It failed this time. Having unprotected sex was exceedingly foolish, but I don't regret having sex with him."

"I think your feelings are stronger for Vegeta than you're willing to admit or accept," Tights continued. "If he cares for you, then maybe he should put your welfare above himself and cut ties altogether… to protect you and the child."

Bulma shook her head. "It's complicated. I wish you would stop making it harder."

"But, sis, he's had a drinking problem."

Bulma's eyes widened. "Zeus told you?"

"Yeah, a couple weeks after I finally met Vegeta here. Zeus had mixed feelings about your bond, but he also expressed a weird hopefulness for you, as well."

Bulma felt her face warm from anger. "I don't want to go into that - or discuss Vegeta's drinking history."

Exasperated, Tights stood. "Fine, sis, but if you believe Vegeta will stay on the wagon while you're pregnant, then you're fooling yourself. My instincts tell me this. We haven't even begun to discuss that he's trying to steer his country through the biggest political reorganization in almost two-hundred years."

"Well, I see the history student has been busy," Bulma said sarcastically. "Anything else?"

Tights approached the drafting table and looked down. "I know… I'm not Zeus, but I cannot see you hurt or brokenhearted. I'm just scared about everything. It's like your life has been turned into a mystery romance novel – and you're so casual about it. Being pregnant at this age is more difficult, too. You could…"

"Sis, look, I'm neither fragile nor courting death, and I am not lonely – especially having you here. I know you're worried. However, I won't apologize for keeping my own counsel lately. I needed to think. Your love and concern for my welfare are never far from my thoughts. And, like Zeus, you have never shied from speaking truths that I didn't want to hear. The difference is he treated me as an equal. That's what I need from you."

Keeping her eyes on the table, Tights nodded. "I will take your request to heart. I promise. I appreciate your listening to me. Also, this is a beautiful design for a funeral gown."

"Thank you," Bulma said, anticipating another question. "It's for Vegeta's mother."

"Yeah, I just figured that out. How long… does she have to live?"

Bulma embraced Tights from the back, like she did as a little girl. "Much longer than she believes, I think."

"How do you think she'll react over the pregnancy, sis?"

Bulma paused. "She doesn't worry me as much."

Danae was scamming her, Tights believed. The queen wanted Bulma to care for Vegeta at her sister's expense, putting his needs above hers permanently. That had to be the case. Tights would be damned if her sister would be used by anyone to enable a man. She promised Bulma to be less overbearing, but she would not give up being the voice of reason.

8 p.m., April 9, Monday

Cerinthe, Hegemone

"Considering"

Sitting alone in a meeting room, Vegeta rubbed his chin to decide whether he wanted a full shave. His countrymen rarely went without facial hair until the 19th century, when a cadre of Saiyan nobles returned from other countries with "new ideas" about style and personal conduct - as if their citizenry had been wanton barbarians before. Vegeta noticed others acted more serious around him, including the king, as his goatee filled out. This, as he retreated to recover his mental health. During therapy, he finally admitted how broken and inadequate he felt. His web of fury included the female psychotherapist's "incessant questions" about Bulma. He almost regretted discussing her during his treatment. He also warned the doctor not to expect miraculous personality changes. That would have been folly. However, he disguised himself to attend Alcoholics Anonymous meetings occasionally. For all of his knowledge, he had not considered that even in his country, the support group had a strong presence there. His participation was nothing short of amazing, considering his understandable concerns about being exposed, as well as his defensiveness and discomfort with activities that seemed "spiritual." Califula and Colla were his main escorts to the nondescript meeting location. They would not hesitate to kill anyone who tried to harm the prince or, presumably, other innocent people there. Other guards were stationed farther from the location in case they needed more help.

Meanwhile, the prince's squad of advisers and political operatives had been doing their jobs effectively and kept him well-informed, despite his tiresome perfectionism. Nappa continued to be his gatekeeper, much like any other de facto chief of staff. Their so-called "troops" merely considered Vegeta's choice to maintain a lower profile as another strategy to confuse opponents – a belief the prince used for his benefit. He also found value in keeping his operatives somewhat off-balance, in order to encourage better work. He did not play favorites and berated anyone who tried to impose social hierarchy under his watch.

Advisers also sought Queen Danae's opinions, as well, when she felt up to it. In some ways, her lifetime of being a "shadow diplomat" made her counsel more invaluable than the king's. Her son didn't interfere much, but he privately warned others against overstepping. The direction was rarely delivered with pleasantries. No one expected them, really. Had his behavior changed, both supporters and foes would be anxious. Vegeta had never been overly impulsive about his decision-making, despite his obsession with performance. The strict separation between his playboy persona and his professional one had blurred more as his drinking increased – and even that took years to weaken him. But the "James Bond" façade had soured, ultimately.

Clashes between Saiyans and Yardrats along Hegemone's northern and southeastern regions remained deeply concerning. Some frustrated Yardrats activists in the region – both peaceful and violent - quietly discussed secession, even, despite its improbability. Leadership from the kingdom's capital was cautious, encouraged by those who desired sensible, sustainable solutions to the unrest, including most of the royal family. The government's "containment strategy" had been one source of Raditz' anger and frustration, supposedly. He called it "weak," and his injuries from the bombing at ther old palace hardened his opinions. Calling the duke's political views "conservative" was an insult to conservatism, Nappa once said. "Frothing at the mouth, rabid dog" was a better description, the general added.

But the citizens had genuine concerns. Before the clashes and protests began, local Saiyan officials and wealthier residents in these outlying areas had long ignored the police brutality, as well as increased institutional corruption and graft. Danae had felt most pained over this, realizing how much political-and-financial power-sharing needed greater change – in spite of her careful influence on the king and his advisers across decades. Rather than relying on taxation, she encouraged the family's liquidation of some financial holdings to strengthen the government's civil service. She and Vegeta had a well-spring of ideas for other improvements. But, like his cousin, Vegeta had questioned the effectiveness of containment when groups now were boldly testing the waters through violence in order to be recognized. The bombings in Cerinthe infuriated him. Many people had suffered, and the central government barely escaped looking ineffectual in its response. Why? Because Vegeta and others were assholes behind the scenes, demanding improvement. King Vegeta could be the domestic figurehead to calm and inspire their people, which he did well at that crucial time.

Being heavy-handed in the outer regions would alienate Yardrats with no desire to separate from the kingdom, including those living and working closer to big cities, and industrial and major farming regions. When the Royal National Guard deployed to the struggling areas, the goal was stopping conflict on all sides immediately. For many residents, though, the additional military presence felt more like an occupying force - and who could blame them, really? Worse, guardsmen now were being attacked by new paramilitary guerrilla fighters – the source of the bombings – which couldn't continue.

The intelligence unit of Hemegone's Interior Ministry located weaponry likely delivered through Tuffle-controlled areas using clandestine, illegal supply chains. Black market suppliers could be anyone. Tuffle officials could claim that they weren't involved and suggest that Hegemone improve border patrols. Valuable territory between the countries existed that the Tuffles would gladly claim if they had a convenient excuse. Hegemone politicians had been drafted to weaken and spread disinformation about the existing government. Some had likely been blackmailed, too, forcing them to betray those they had taken oaths to serve. The Tuffles had not succeeded with other elements of its covert propaganda campaign, but they were gaining ground.

Interestingly enough, Vegeta's checkered romantic history was a poor target for blackmail. Everyone in Hegemone knew, from the smallest villages to the largest cities. As much as Nappa, Danae, and others disapproved, at least they didn't have to worry about "fixing" that issue. Vegeta didn't parade his behavior flagrantly, like more arrogant ladies' men in the spotlight. Hegemone's people had been forgiving – perhaps a little too much – but public opinion could be fickle. Still, it was no one's business whether he chose to marry. Vegeta would shout that in a cathedral if anyone confronted him.

Now, he was considering it. Life was difficult enough, but Bulma was never far from his thoughts.

"May I join you?"

Vegeta looked up with bleary, tired eyes, but his hobby had been relaxing. Interruption was less irritating now. "You've been standing there behind that cracked door for the last fifteen minutes, Nappa."

Nappa smiled, remembering how his son enjoyed perusing maps and playing strategy games since childhood. "I see you haven't forgotten everything I taught, except that you're seated with your back to the door. What the hell?"

Vegeta leaned back to remove his gun and boot knives as the general seated himself. "Your breathing is loud enough to wake the dead, man. You should brush up on your stealth assassination skills."

Nappa propped his feet on the long table, waving his arm. "Yeah, yeah. Stop showing off. Be sure not to sever a vein with those things. Are they sharpened and oiled well?"

Frowning, Vegeta returned to his hobby. "You're not here for small talk. Get to it."

Nappa, who wasn't done teasing, said, "You look like an actor from`Dr. Zhivago.' It works for you."

Vegeta resisted smiling, though Nappa was making it hard. He sighed. "Fine. My sleep is improving. Don't be fooled by the way I look now. I have no desire to slam my beating heart entirely on this table for further examination by you. That why I pay that slave-driver woman who calls herself a psychotherapist."

Nappa laughed out loud. "I see you are doing better, thank god. Danae does, too."

"Leave god out of it," Vegeta replied irritably. "I can do this myself. People with far less than I have work and live decent lives with problems like mine. They should not be shunned and shamed."

Nodding respectfully, Nappa said, "Sire, it's up to you whether to tell the public. I'm uncomfortable with it, given the tremendous tasks we're all facing, but I will support you wholeheartedly. If you wanted to live permanently in a mountain hut while the rest of us figure this shit out, I would support you. In fact, I would prefer it. I only want you to get better."

Vegeta felt a pang in his chest – one of sadness and shame. He suddenly changed his mind about avoiding the inevitable. "Sit... down again. As my father, it's time that you know everything."

"What, son?" Nappa's hands fell to his sides as Vegeta's eyes met his. Fear gripped him – a rare occurrence.

"Raditz and I were sexually abused, repeatedly, by his father."

Nappa struggled to catch his breath. "Oh, my god." He clasped the tableside as grief stabbed him. "Oh, god, no! I'm so sorry, son. I'm so very sorry!"

Vegeta looked away. "Just…stop. You have nothing to be sorry about. We trusted Basil. He helped train us. He groomed us for his abuse. I did well for a long time while growing up, more or less, because of you, mother, and others in the royal court. There was no reason to tell anyone, I believed then. I especially didn't want you and the king disappointed in me. Raditz hates me now because I still have your support, despite my many faults. That, and Basil considered me to be his 'favorite.' But we cannot allow my 'cousin' to destroy our entire country now because of his poisonous anger and resentment."

Devastated, Nappa's head hung down. "You were just boys."

Vegeta retrieved his weapons. "We were, but it could have happened to anyone." He placed his hand on Nappa's shoulder. "Let's go."

Noon, April 10, Tuesday

Brooklyn, New York

"Vegeta?"

"Tiger Lily."

Bulma took a deep breath before answering. She had planned to call within the hour to tell Vegeta about her pregnancy. Of course, he beat her to it. She wondered sometimes if he had latent psychic powers. "How did you get this number?"

Vegeta smirked and said, "Mother gave me her phone. I wondered if you still had the one I gave you."

"Are you kidding me?" Bulma laughed softly. "So you found out. She betrayed me."

"I can't believe she sent a secure phone just to chat, but Danae always has been unconventional," he replied.

"Indeed, she is." Bulma paused, reflecting on the queen's other request. Vegeta sounded like he didn't know.

"Obviously, you are designing something for her."

"Yes."

"Will one of you tell me?"

"No, Vegeta."

He glanced at his watch. "It's midday there. How are you faring? You sound like you're in bed. I apologize for disturbing you."

"I wasn't feeling well today. Just needed to take a break. Please, don't hang up."

Vegeta heard a lilt in her voice. Others wouldn't notice it, but he paid attention to everything. She had something to say. "Had you planned to contact me?" he asked. "I called to deliver news."

"Yes." Bulma gripped her bed sheets. " Today, actually. I have something to tell you also. If you don't mind, may I go first? Are you seated?"

Vegeta approached the fireplace in Danae's library office. "You know I prefer standing when there's bad news."

"Vegeta, I'm... pregnant." Bulma bit her lip. "I found out March 6. I had planned to call today."

Vegeta felt a dreamlike calmness sweep through him. That wasn't necessarily a good thing. She had waited five weeks to tell him. He bent over to poke at the wood in the fireplace. "You want to have it?"

Bulma was taken aback slightly. "Yes, I do." The detachment in Vegeta's voice was apparent. He sounded emotionless, rather than unkind.

"You have every right to wonder whether I would be a good father – if not afraid," he said sadly.

Bulma's eyes closed. "Maybe we should talk by video. This is a shock for us both, you know?" By then Vegeta had already tuned her out.

"I would be afraid, too," he continued. "You can't even bring yourself to attempt to love me fully. Having a child won't make it easier."

"You know how much I care for you," Bulma said. "Believe me, I'm not trying to string you along. It wasn't easy to leave Hegemone at all. We're also almost five-thousand miles away from each other."

"I…will make sure our child has everything it needs, discreetly," he replied. "Beyond that, unless you have more requests, I will keep my distance from you both. That is a promise. Separately, I wanted you to know we arrested suspects who likely murdered Zeus. They will be tried in court soon. I hope this news helps. Goodbye, Tiger Lily."

He was sure that Bulma would have told him earlier had she not feared what his and his family's presence in their child's life would do. However much it hurt, he understood. They both should have been more careful.

Bulma held the phone long after their call ended. Tights had gotten her wish, she thought.

Notes: Always, thank you for the comments and continued interest.