The air hung still between them as she said the words. Only the dull buzzing of the overhanging lamp illuminating the alleyway permeated his eardrums, or was that the thrum of his brain synapses firing in a busy procession behind his eyes, trying to catch up to the three fragmented sentences that passed her lips?
"I had a kid. A son. He's yours."
He distinctly felt his eye twitch, then remembered to breathe.
But the breath came out as a humor snort.
"No it's not." He coughed into a rare gravely laugh.
Her face should have broken out into a chuckle. She should have laughed, too. It was a joke. A terrible, terrible joke. She could do that. He remembered her being funny once. Yet, when he looked back up, she was more serious than before. "I'm not kidding. He's yours."
The hint of a smile stayed, a morbid continuation of the sick lark at his expense. He'd take it if it meant discrediting the truth. Although now, he couldn't quite feel his feet. "Fuck off, no it's not."
He watched as she took in a steady inhale, slow and weighty. Her blue eyes shifted uncomfortably from him to the ground. The jest had waned and all that remained was the unbelievable revelation.
"There's no way." He remarked in a low, defensive tenor.
"I understand this is diffic-" Bulma whispered.
He shook his head vigorously. "No. It's not possible."
"Of course it's possible. It happened. It's done."
"No." He refuted.
She pursed her lips, trying to get through. "I know it's hard for you to believe. These… things… happen." Her face puckered as if she was retasting a bitter event once again and looked at him, expecting him to taste it, too.
"Weren't you on the pill?" His thoughts frantically reaching for moments he saw her ingest the medication each morning. The air he took in felt thinner with each inhale.
Vegeta wanted to pull back the words before they even left his mouth as her eyes shot daggers at his inflection. "Don't even hint an insinuation that I'm solely to blame for this. You had every chance to wear condoms. Besides, that's not the point. I have a son, he's yours, now you know." She replied curtly.
Taking a step back, he pinched his lips together as his brows knitted. "It's not mine." He responded adamantly. This isn't happening. It's not real.
"I can assure you, he's absolutely half you. I see that stubborn look on his face in the exact way you're giving me now."
The crease at his forehead receded immediately at the thought it was shared with someone else. "No. Just no." He replaced it with indignant rage. "If you think I'm raising a goddamn finger for this, you are sorely mistaken. I am not responsible for it!"
She scoffed with an exaggerated eye roll. "Oh, there's the selfish dick I remember so fondly."
A sneer pulled his lip up over his teeth. "You're one to talk. You are the most materialistic narcissist I've ever met. It was a wonder you were able to keep the lights on in your apartment with how fast you blew your paycheck every month on stupid shit. How you've managed to take care of someone other than yourself is unbelievable. If you're coming to me for child support, I'm not contributing."
With a hand on her hip, he glared at the audacity she had of pointing a finger at him in admonishment. "Look, jerk, I'm not like that anymore! And I'm not asking you for anything-"
"Good. 'Cause I owe you nothing."
"I should have known you'd be super mature about this."She spat sarcastically.
Bulma flung her hands up and turned her back to him, pinching her eyes shut in frustration.
Clenching his jaw, he continued his tirade of vitriol. "I know the kid's not mine. You would have told me. You would have been an actual decent person by telling me before now. For fuck's sake, we've been working together for weeks! You weren't even going to tell me now!"
"I was waiting for the right moment." She responded to the wall adjacent to her.
"And when would that have been?" He pressed.
"I don't know. Just not now." She replied in a hush. He thought he heard a distinct sniffle.
"This whole time. You lied the whole time."
She finally turned to face him. "No. I didn't lie. I withheld. I want to be very clear about that."
"You're right, that makes it so much better." He scoffed. "Why did you hide it? You evidently told the others."
"Only Yamcha knows." She disclosed and when he held out his hands indicating she elaborate, she added, "It was an emergency. I haven't told anyone else. I swear."
"Fucking Yamcha." Backstabber. He kneaded his pointer and thumb into his eyes for perspective. Or a way to calm down. Of course, she told her first ex. He was evidently more worthy of the knowledge of the existence of a kid that was hi-
"I told him because I knew I could-" She stopped abruptly.
"What? Trust him? Confide? What the hell, Bulma. If it's mine, then I should have known. And well before now." The more it became clear she had her own reasons to keep her secrets that very much involved him, the more he felt something he vehemently tried to avoid. Being hurt by someone he cared for. The way he had felt for her ebbed over time and with this divulgence, he'd be damned if he was going to let her affect him further.
"I know. I'm sorry. I-" She tried to take the precarious steps to him.
Vegeta shook his head fervently again as he tried to swallow the saliva lodged in his throat. "I can't deal with this. It's not mine. I know it's not mine." He proclaimed, inwardly washing his hands of the ordeal and her at the same time. He was done.
"Vegeta…" She said, it coming out as more of a plea. He felt ill hearing his name on her tongue just then.
Holding up a finger, he leered under dark lashes. "Don't. Just don't."
"Please… wait..." She called as he made his way back inside the bar, back to the booth.
He didn't care when the rest of the table, save the private duo making out at the far end, slowly raised their heads in a tipsy stupor upon his sudden return. He didn't care hearing her hurried steps behind him. There was only one thing he was interested in: the DD for the night. Completely ignoring the fact that the couple were busily investigating each other's tonsils with fervor, he puts some pent up rage behind the kick to the wood under the ass in question.
"Take me back to the gym. I need my car." He demanded with another kick to the side panel as Goku shot away brusquely from ChiChi's lip-locking embrace. The younger man stared wide-eyed and red-faced at his enraged teammate.
Goku held his hand out, indicating to an annoyed and pouty ChiChi, adjusting her shirt and her hair in the process. "What, now?" He questioned, looking thoroughly cockblocked.
"Yes. Get your ass up." Vegeta spat, refusing to even turn in the direction of the door as he heard it slam behind him. He assumed she came back in to finish what they started. He had no intention of speaking with her further, if at all.
A heavy head sluggishly lifted off Launch's shoulder blade, who also was perceiving the world in a sideways glance. Yamcha passed slow, blinking eyes to both Vegeta and Bulma in alarm. "What's going on?"
The progress of awareness finally made it from his addled mind to his mouth. "Shit," Yamcha uttered with a guilty look. "I'm sorry, Bulma."
She held her hand up placatingly. "It's fine. Don't worry about it."
Grabbing the taller man by the arm, Vegeta escorted Goku past his ex without further acknowledgment. "What's happening? Why are you so mad?" Goku attempted while fishing for his keys in his jean's pocket.
"Let's go," Vegeta muttered, hand on the long brass handle.
"Running away again, Vegeta?" Bulma attempted. She was goading him, a familiar tactic she used to use to get him to engage. Not this time. Not anymore.
He turned and leered acrimoniously. "You showed me how."
