Still not quite hitting that 3k mark... Kinda hoping that once the plot picks up, I'll be writing longer chapters. Thank you for the kind reviews, and everyone that follows and favorited this story.

Cover Art - AR-UA

Chapter 2 - I'm What?!

Gohan flipped another page of this textbook over. The afternoon sun piercing through his room's window giving good light for the course work his mom had assigned him. However, the young Saiyan's mind was elsewhere.

To the first time he had been with a woman. A woman he had known. That his friends had fought against. That had dated one of them. That particular thought made him uncomfortable.

What would Krillin do if he ever found out? Would he be okay with it? It wasn't like they were together anymore.

Gohan sighed, closing the book he was mindlessly fooling with, a pencil stuck in it to keep his place. It had been like this for a while. If he tried to focus on something, school work or training, he would remember that night. A night that started off horrible, to a morning, well, near-noon that had begun fantastic.

Or so he thought, but she hadn't seemed to think so.

Rays of light shined down on the Saiyan, groggy and unwilling to open his eyes. The cool breeze brushing against his skin. His mind replayed the events of the night prior. That horrid nightmare. Flying to the rocky wasteland he had fought at almost half a decade ago. Meeting Eighteen.

Gohan's eyes snapped open to see the blonde's disheveled hair resting just under his chin. Her breathing calm as her bare body laid on his, sleeping away the day. He recalled their fight, and then what happened after. His first experience was nothing like he expected. He thought that it would have been with someone he had been more familiar with. Someone he had feelings for, liked or loved, whichever word fits better at the time.

Instead, it had been in the heat of the moment. She had taken charge, and he had gone along with it. He didn't regret it. No matter how different it was to his expectations, Gohan would be lying if he said he hadn't enjoyed every moment. But, the question was, now what? What was his feeling towards her now? Did he see her in a romantic way? Could he? This was his best friend's ex. Was it wrong to maybe, sort of, start to have feelings for her?

And what about her? Had she felt anything towards him? Or was there nothing there? He might have been overthinking all of this, and to only way to get an answer was to wake her up. But he was reluctant to lose the warmth and comfortable weight laying on him. Maybe it was okay to just stay like this for a while longer...

Was his thoughts until the woman began to stir. Slowly, she pushed herself up on his toned body, revealing her own figure to him. Unconsciously, the hormonal boy's eyes traveled from her lower body upward, his mind grasping how beautiful the blonde in front of him truly was. His eyes came to a stop at her's, onyx orbs meeting her sapphire.

She looked down at him, head tilted in confusion before her eyes widened. Was this where they talked about what happened? Why it had happened? Maybe even what happens next?

The answer to all those questions, Gohan came to realize, was no. With grace, Eighteen stood up, searching around for her clothes. Pulling up her jeans, several tears in them in multiple places from their fight, she turned to him. Hands on her hips and not bothering to cover her breasts.

"Give me your shirt," she told him.

"...Huh?" was his most intelligent response.

"Your shirt," Eighteen pointed over to the top piece of his gi, "Give it to me."

"Um, sure," he complied, throwing her the material.

The sleeveless top hung off her, not quite engulfing the smaller woman, but noticeably too large. The blonde tucked in the bottom part of it into her jeans, before focusing on the young Saiyan once more.

"Forget everything," Eighteen demanded. "This never happened."

With her piece said, the blonde took off into the sky.

As Gohan watched her go, Eighteen's figure disappearing, he would confess to feeling more than a little hurt.

"Forget what happened. Easier said than done..."

The Saiyan sighed again at the memory. It had definitely answered the unasked questions. He looked over to his clock, time and date displayed. Thursday, July sixth. It had been little over a month since then, more or less, and he hadn't spoken to her since.

Gohan's chin fell into his palm, elbow planted on the desk as his gaze traveled out the window.

"Have a nice day."

As the last customer left the clothing store in Satan Mall, Eighteen allowed her customer service smile to fall from her face. Dealing with people had never been something she enjoyed. A get together with a few people she put up with was more her style.

The bell chimes echoed through the store, "Can I help yo- It's just you."

A teen girl, a few inches shorter than Eighteen, with short blonde hair and wearing a green top, walked up to her, "What do you mean it's just me?"

"Don't worry about her, Erasa," another worker said, long flowing brown hair falling down pale shoulders. "She's been in a bit of a mood today."

"More like every day for the past week," another woman said, walking up behind the brunette. Emerald green eyes dancing with amusement.

Eighteen's eye twitched, "And what's wrong with my mood?"

"That's what we'd like to know," the ravenette replied. "Did you throw it up with your lunch?"

"Melody," Olyvia scolded her friend.

"You're sick?" Erasa asked Eighteen in concern.

"I'm not sick," the older woman replied. "It's just-"

Nausea hit her before she finished speaking. Knowing what was going to happen next, the older blonde fled to the employees only area, her co-workers on her heel, with a brief apology to the teen.

Olyvia walked through the door, following after Eighteen, a concerned look on her face. Melody was close behind, but at a more relaxed pace. As Eighteen releases the contents of her stomach in a nearby trash bin, Olyvia steps up behind her friend, gently rubbing her back.

"This has been going on for almost a week now, Eighteen," Olyvia said. "You need to go see a doctor."

Before Eighteen could respond, Melody let her thoughts be known.

"Of course she's sick," the ravenette stated. "Have you seen what she's been eating? Looking at her lunch makes me sick."

"There's nothing wrong with what I eat," the blonde argued, still bent over the now puke bucket.

"Sweetie," Melody said. "Waffles and mayonnaise don't go together. Ever. And don't get me started on the last time we ordered pizza."

At that, both of Eighteen's co-workers shivered.

"Your eating habits have been a bit strange," Olyvia added hesitantly.

Silence filled the room, broken by a groan, and with it, another bout of vomiting from the blonde of the group.

"Wait..." the ravenette took a thinking pose. "Strange eating habits... Puking that mess you call food back up..." she snapped her fingers, dramatically pointing at Eighteen's back. "You're pregnant!"

The brunette slapped her palm to her face with an audible thud. "Melody..."

"Oh right," the accusor laughed. "You actually have to get laid to catch the pregnant."

"Melody!"

As Olyvia shook her head, exasperated by her friend's antics, Eighteen just leveled the other woman with a glare that screamed 'They will not find your body'.

"Hey," Melody held her hands up to block out her friend's gaze. "Not my fault you're a prune."

"Think for a second," Olyvia said. "Is Eighteen someone you want to irritate?"

Melody sent her a questioning look.

"Don't you remember the last person that got on her bad side?"

"Come on!"

Eighteen huffed in annoyance, "I said no."

A young man, barely over twenty, with midnight black hair and a smile that would make simpler women swoon, ran his fingers through his locks.

"Just one date. I promise you won't regret it," he told her.

That smile he wore looked more and more punchable to the blonde with every passing second.

"I'm already regretting this conversation," Eighteen answered. "Now buy something or leave."

As Eighteen turned away, the man grabbed her wrist.

"Now listen here. Most women would do anything for a date with me. Who-"

He was interrupted as a fist collided with his throat, closing off his airways. As he choked, the man was unable to stop the irritated blonde from reversing the grip of his hand on her wrist, forcing the arm attached to bend behind his back. The man was swiftly brought to the ground as the woman's foot stomped the back of his knee.

"Try something this stupid again and I'll knock every tooth out of your thick head."

Eighteen pulled on the arm, letting up only when she heard the beautiful mix of joints popping and pitiful whining.

"Are. We. Clear?"

Melody paled slightly but was still able to look amused by the memory.

"Good point."

As the two came back from memory lane, Eighteen had stood, wiping her mouth with a paper towel.

"But really Eighteen," Olyvia said. "You really should go to the hospital."

And explain to a bunch of people in lab coats about being a walking talking bio-weapon? The blonde thought to herself. No thanks.

"I'll be fine," she told the duo. "It's probably just a stomach virus. No big deal. It'll pass soon."

Eighteen spat in the trash, trying to rid her mouth of the vile taste.

"If it tastes like shit on the way down, it's gonna taste worse on the way back up," Melody sighed as the group left the employees only room.

They were met with a worried Erasa standing right outside the door, the only person in an otherwise empty store.

"I could hear you from out here," she told Eighteen. "Why are you working? You need to go see a doctor."

Eighteen sighed, "You sound just like Olyvia. Everything's fine. Besides, it'd take a genius to figure me out."

"Doctors are pretty smart," Erasa reasoned. "And it's not like Bulma Briefs works in a hospital."

The older blonde paused. "What did you say?"

"That doctors are smart?"

"No, no. The other thing."

"That Bulma Briefs doesn't work in hospitals?" the teen answer. "Well, I mean, you did say genius, and she's-"

Eighteen didn't bother listening to the rest, leaving the dead store with a new destination in mind.

Erasa blinked, looking to the other two, "Can she do that?"

"Pretty sure she just did," Melody replied.

Olyvia could only sigh, "Don't worry. We'll make up some excuse."

Working on new projects could be exciting. Experimenting with alien technology had always been fun. Note-taking and paperwork, however, were not on the top of Bulma's favorite things to do. It was dull and boring, and she half wished Vegeta would blow something up so she could put it off for a little longer.

"Mrs. Briefs," the Capsule Corps receptionist called over the intercom in her lab, "We have a situation."

Ask and ye shall receive, "What happened?"

"A blonde woman just came in and took off towards the labs."

Okay, so it wasn't her husband this time, "Have you called security?"

"I did, but they couldn't stop her."

One woman took out her entire security team? Before Bulma made a call to Vegeta in his Gravity Machine, the door to her lab opened. Standing in the doorway, was a woman she hadn't seen in a little over a year.

"Sorry about that, Vanessa," Bulma told the one on the other end, "She's a friend of mine."

The receptionist didn't reply immediately, probably trying to process what she had just been told.

"Of course ma'am."

The line cut out as Eighteen stepped forward, "It's been a while."

"Yea," was the reply. Well, no one could ever mistake Eighteen as a conversationalist.

Bulma asked, "Did you just stop by to say hi?"

"I need your help."

"And you needed to take out my security team for that?"

"They got in my way."

"For the love of," Bulma sighed. "Fine, tell me what's going on."

Eighteen took the chair offered to her on the opposite side of Bulma's desk, "I've been sick for about a week now."

"You do know I'm not a doctor, right?"

"You know why I can't go to a hospital."

Bulma nodded in understanding. Gero's enhancements would make a regular check-up kind of difficult.

"You said you've been sick for about a week, right? What's been the problem?"

"I'll be hit with nausea and vomiting spells randomly throughout the day," she explained.

Bulma took up her notepad, "Anything else?"

"Not really."

"Any pain or discomfort? Or problems using the restroom?"

"No."

This was starting to sound just like a simple stomach virus.

"What was the last thing you ate?"

"Chicken wings dipped in ice cream."

Bulma looked up from her notes, giving Eighteen an odd look, "Why?"

The blonde shrugged, "Because I like it."

She went back to her notes, "Okay... When was your last period?"

Eighteen thought back, "Mid May, I think."

"You do know it's July, right?" Her patient nodded. "Is it possible you could be pregnant?"

The blonde gave her a flat look, though it hid a hint of sadness, "We both know that's impossible."

"Improbable," Bulma corrected. "I told you and Krillin both that the chances were low, not zero."

"Can you just say what's wrong with me?" she snapped.

The scientist sighed, "I'll need to run a few tests."

"Fine, whatever you need to do."

Bulma pulled a plastic cup from her desk drawer, "Glad you feel that way. Now pee in this."

Eighteen sat in her chair as Bulma moved around the room, messing with different machines. After handing over a half-full small cup, the blonde woman had also been subjected to blood loss by needle. And now, she was waiting. She watched as the blue-haired woman held up some kind of thin strip.

"What the...?"

Well, that didn't sound good.

"What is it?"

"Nothing, nothing," Bulma waved off. She took off her lab gloves, walking over to the still sitting woman. "I need you to stand up and lift your shirt."

Eighteen did as she was told, revealing her midsection. Bulma knelt down on one knee, pressing her fingers down around her navel, "How's your bladder? Do you feel like you need to use the restroom?"

That was an odd question, "Not really, no."

The scientist stood up, and walked over to a metallic table covered in paperwork, and began clearing it.

"I need you to lay down," she told the blonde. "And I'll be right back."

Eighteen did as she was told. In the silence of the room, as she stared up at the ceiling, she remembered her dream. Being strapped down to that table. A bright light shining over her as people gathered around.

"I'm back," Bulma announced, snapping Eighteen out of her thoughts.

She turned her head to find the scientist pulling a machine behind her.

"What's that?"

"An ultrasound machine."

"But I though-" Before she could finish questioning why Bulma would have one of those, the other woman had already started applying a cold gel to the blonde's stomach.

"Stay still for a bit."

A few moments later, with some kind of scanner running across the gelled area, Bulma spoke.

"I might have found what's been making you sick."

Found? Eighteen turned her head to find the bluenette's finger pointing at a small peanut-shape on the computer screen.

"You're pregnant."

So... That happened. I need it to go on record that my information on pregnancy is taken from female friends and family that have children, as well as the occasional google search. I have zero actual experience.

Also, let me know if you think I should just take out the first and third scenes of this chapter, and add this chapter to the first. If so, I'll fix it when I release the next chapter.

Next Chapter: February 28

Until next time.