Hello everyone! Teresa here again. Now, I'm going to get into the story in a second here, but first I would just like to clarify for those of you who thought otherwise, part 3 was not the end, and neither is this part. This story is going to have at least…about…I'm not quite sure, but there is going to be a lot of parts. It doesn't end until a tad bit after Trunks is born. Sorry that I confused people with all that talking about a sequel. Got a little bit ahead of myself. I can really ramble, as evidenced by this intro. Okay, so (place standard disclaimer here) and now we're on with the story…
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A Shelter From My Storm
Part 4
Two weeks later, Bulma sat in her lab. She sighed sadly as she tried in vain to concentrate on the job at hand. All she could think of was Vegeta. He hadn't said more than two words to her ever since they…well, she knew what they did. True, she had spent most of her time in the lab during the past couple of weeks, but that didn't mean he'd had no opportunities to talk to her about what had happened between them. Maybe he didn't know what to say, Bulma realized. She would just have to give him a little push.
With that, Bulma set down her papers and left her lab, striding purposefully toward the gravity room. Once she got there, she walked into the control room. She attempted to watch him train, but she could not follow the extremely fast movements and the strain of trying was hurting her eyes. Finally, she shook her head impatiently and pushed the intercom button, leaning down toward the microphone.
"Vegeta?" she asked in the sweetest voice she could manage. Bulma waited, but there was no response. "Vegeta? This is Bulma. I need to talk to you." She told him, her voice become strained as her impatience built.
Vegeta heard the woman trying to get his attention and decided to see how fast she would become angry if he continued to ignore her. He loved it when she was angry. Vegeta wasn't exactly sure why this pleased him so much, but it did.
"Vegeta?" Bulma was definitely sounding impatient now. "DAMMIT VEGETA!!!" she screeched. Vegeta fired a final blast and then stopped. He turned off the gravity machine with the interior controls and stormed into the control room. He grabbed a nearby towel and slung it across his sweat-dampened shoulders as he scowled at Bulma.
"What do you want, woman?" Vegeta growled. Bulma almost snapped at him, but stopped herself and took a deep breath to calm down. She reminded herself to try and be patient with Vegeta. He was probably not used to these types of things, and she needed to remember that.
"Vegeta, we need to talk." She smiled encouragement and stepped closer to him. Bulma placed her small hand gently on one of his crossed arms. Vegeta sneered and stepped back without even thinking about it.
"What do you mean, 'talk'?" his scowl deepened. "You mean to tell me that you interrupted my training to 'talk'?" Bulma bit her lip so that she would not yell at him, but she could not hide the injured look in her eyes.
"I mean we need to talk about what happened between us." Bulma told him as softly and slowly as her rising temper would allow. "You know…right before my parents got back. When we-"
"I know what we did, woman!" Vegeta glared viciously at her so that his flushed face might be mistaken for anger.
"Right. Well, we need to talk about it." She smiled gently and moved a bit closer to him. Vegeta was losing his composure again. She was so close to him and she smelled…so…but he couldn't reveal his emotions to this woman again. It was bad enough that he had given in once before.
"What do you mean?" he managed to sound scornful, "There's not anything to talk about. It is done. Now stop bothering me, woman!" he turned quickly and escaped to the sanctuary of the gravity room. Bulma stood in shock before her pride could take it no longer.
"Damn, selfish, stupid BASTARD!!" she screamed in a fit of rage as she stomped out of the control room and back to the house.
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"Good morning dear!" Mrs. Briefs greeted her daughter as Bulma made her way wearily into the kitchen a few days later. Mrs. Briefs paused in her enthusiasm to watch her disheveled daughter shuffle over to the cupboard for some oatmeal. "Bulma honey, do you feel all right?" she asked in concern. Bulma moaned in reply.
"I think I have the flu or something. I've been puking all morning." Bulma sighed in exhaustion.
"Oh, honey," Mrs. Briefs ushered Bulma into the living room and had her lay down on one of the couches. "Lay here and I'll go fix you some soup, okay?"
"Thanks mom." Bulma replied as her mother covered her with a blanket before bustling back into the kitchen. Bulma closed her eyes wearily as the twisting pain in her stomach faded. She opened one eye slowly and cautiously when she felt a shadow of someone standing over her. Bulma clenched her teeth angrily to see Vegeta standing there, looking down on her.
"What's wrong with you, woman?" he scowled at her critically.
"As if you'd care." She glared at him. Bulma sighed in relief as he walked into the kitchen. She closed her eyes again in fatigue as she heard her mother and Vegeta talking. After a few minutes, the conversation was ended and Bulma could hear Vegeta leave to train while Mrs. Briefs returned to the living room with Bulma's soup.
"Here you are, dear." Her mother helped Bulma sit up to eat the hot soup. While her daughter ate, Mrs. Briefs sat in a nearby chair. "Are you and Vegeta having a fight of some sort?" she asked bluntly after some time.
"Um, what do you mean by that mom?" Bulma nearly choked on her soup before deciding to attempt to feign ignorance.
"Oh, don't worry honey. Your father and I already know what happened while we were gone." Mrs. Briefs waved a hand nonchalantly through the air as Bulma's eyes widened in terror, "And I just wanted to know if the two of you were having some problems."
"H-how did you…" Bulma managed.
"Really dear, what do you take me for?" Mrs. Briefs giggled at her daughter's puzzled reaction. "Anyway, Vegeta just came into the kitchen wanting to know what was wrong with you. He said 'Damn stubborn woman won't tell me what her problem is' or something like that. So I said that you had caught some type of flu. And he said 'Silly weak women catch all kinds of damned dirty Earth diseases' I think. And then he left to train. I think he's worried about you sweetie." Mrs. Briefs concluded. Bulma scoffed at this assumption.
"I'd just bet. That would be the day." She shook her head ruefully, "The Mighty Prince of the Saiyans would never admit that he worried about anyone. It is below him to care for anyone, especially 'weak, silly, Earth women.' Forget it mom." Bulma told her. Mrs. Briefs shrugged and left the room. Bulma was just beginning to relax when an annoyingly familiar voice caused her to tense up in irritation.
"Bulma!" it greeted.
"Hello Oolong." She sighed in defeat. She'd never get any peace.
"I heard you had stomach problems." The short pig walked up to her.
"Would you just leave me alone?" Bulma snapped.
"And an attitude to!" he held up his hands defensively, sucking in a breath with fear, "Sheesh Bulma, I was just--Hey, what's that?" he sniffed the air in curiosity.
"What?" Bulma asked impatiently. Oolong began to sniff her stomach and she batted at his head with both of her arm, "What are you doing you pervert?! Go away!" she commanded. Oolong eyed Bulma in curious surprise.
"I thought Yamcha and you broke up last month." Oolong stated in shock as he stared at her in disbelief, "But this is fresher than that. Probably only two or so weeks ago."
"What are you talking about?" Bulma demanded, "So what if we broke up a month ago?" Oolong looked at her seriously, struggling for words before finally, he blurted it out.
"Bulma, someone knocked you up!" he exclaimed.
"What!? What do you mean? How can you tell?" Bulma's eyes widened in shock.
"I could always tell if a woman was pregnant, and how long." Oolong defended himself, "Go check!"
"I will!" Bulma ran to her lab and gave herself a special pregnancy test that she had invented after she lost her virginity to Yamcha. Apparently, Oolong was correct. She had been pregnant with a boy for just over two weeks.
"What'd I tell you?" Oolong gave her a smug grin, "So, who's the father? Did Yamcha and you get back together after all?" Bulma angrily lifted the pig by his collar and threw him against the wall.
"Leave me alone." She glared at him as she stalked out of the house.
"Looks like the mood swings are already kicking in." Oolong muttered as he watched her walk into the building that contained the gravity room. She wasted no time with sweetness this time. Bulma punched the intercom button.
"Vegeta! We need to talk! NOW!!" she yelled. Vegeta turned off the gravity machine and entered the control room.
"I thought you were sick, woman." Vegeta tried to keep all traces of concern out of his voice.
"No, it's a lot worse than that. And that is what we need to talk about." Bulma told him in a solemn voice, trying not to panic as she wrung her hands nervously.
"Well, what is the matter with you then?" Vegeta demanded impatiently.
"It's just…I wanted…he said…" Bulma mumbled several incoherent fragments before Vegeta became sick of waiting.
"Out with it woman!" he fumed at the nervous Bulma. She looked around helplessly as she whimpered, unsure of what she should say, how to tell him. Finally, Vegeta grabbed her shoulders and gave her a slight shake. "Tell me!" he prompted. Bulma stared at him with sudden determination in her eyes as she took a deep breath.
"It has to do with when we slept together." She began.
"What about it?" Vegeta crossed his arms, scowling once again. "I thought I told you there is nothing to talk about."
"Maybe you thought that a few days ago, but the situation has…changed." Bulma remained planted in her position stubbornly.
"There is no situation!" Vegeta countered, "What are you talking about, woman? I thought this was about how you were sick. Get to the point!" he ordered, "I am Vegeta, the Prince of all Saiyans, and I have not time to waste on the whimpering of common, weak, Earth women!" At this, Bulma's face became red in anger.
"I'm PREGNANT Vegeta! You got that?! PREGNANT!! With YOUR baby!!" she yelled at him in her unleashed fury. "That's right! Looks like the situation HAS changed, hasn't it?!" Vegeta's mouth fell open in shock. He stood gaping at her, momentarily speechless as Bulma placed one hand on her hip, completely smug at his sudden change in expression. The tables had turned in her favor once again.
Vegeta was completely taken aback. How had this happened? Why had he not sensed it? What was going on? And why was she giving him that expectant look again? He struggled to maintain what little composure he had left.
"So?" he managed to splutter out, "What do I care?"
"Vegeta." Bulma glowered at him, "This may be my child, but it is yours, too! So it affects both of us."
"Hmph." He grunted defiantly, "What do you want from me woman?"
"Well, you are the father." Bulma began slowly, "So maybe you could help me take care of it." She looked up at him hopefully.
"Me? Take care of that…that THING inside of you?" Vegeta sneered at Bulma, "I am Prince of Saiyans, not some babysitter!"
"Fine!" Bulma yelled as she turned her back to him and crossed her arms, "It isn't like you'd make much of a father anyway!"
"Hmph." Was the only reply she heard from the temperamental Saiyan behind her.
"Doesn't matter to me anyway." She stated casually, as if she were speaking to no one in particular, "I think the baby and I would be better off with Yamcha anyway." She tried her best to repress a triumphant smile as she heard Vegeta step toward her as she remained with her back to him. He was right behind her now, and she could feel his hot, angry breathing against the back of her neck.
"What?!" Vegeta fumed indignantly, "That weak earthling? Raising my child? I think not! The boy must not grow up to be like that weak, simpering fool! He has a proud Saiyan heritage which he must be trained to make the most of!"
"How do you know it is a boy?" Bulma hadn't told him that yet.
"I know woman, I can sense it." Vegeta spun her around softly to face him. "You mustn't let that idiot raise my son!" he commanded her.
"Then who would you suggest?" the corner of Bulma's mouth went up in a sly grin, "Goku's a Saiyan, perhaps he can train-"
"Kakarot?!" Vegeta cut her off in horror, "You will not allow that lowly third class warrior to ruin my son!"
"Well, who else is there?" Bulma gave him a look of mock innocence. Vegeta growled and gritted his teeth before finally sighing in defeat. There was no other way. She had him.
"I…I will stay here." Vegeta muttered grudgingly, "But only to train the boy!" he clarified sharply.
"Sure Vegeta, why else would you stay here?" Bulma mumbled quietly as she exited the control room while Vegeta went back to his training. "You're the Prince of all Saiyans, you care for no one." She laughed lightly at this as she went back into the house.
***The End (Of Part 4, that is)***