Disclaimer: I don't own DragonBallZ.
Thank you, guys, for helping me out on the decision of thought bold/italics. This will make it easier!
And very special thanks to you who reviewed! Thank you animeprincess1452 and Trugeta, because you always encourage me!
To animprincess1452: I'm glad you enjoyed the chapter! It makes me happy! But I'm also sad...you can't update! The ninth? That's too long! No! {Sob}
To Trugeta: Why, thank you for the comment! And it makes me feel so good to know you enjoyed the Vegeta-Chain-Bulma scene! It was fun to write, I'll admit. And Demi and Trunks are having their own problems, as you did point out! Yes, the mood-swings are going to sneak up on him anytime now.
Yeah...
Bulma was in the living room, sitting comfortably on the couch with her cordless phone up to her ear. She'd just finished dialing the number for the OB-GYN clinic for the office of a slight acquaintance. She listened as it rang.
Just then, Chain walked in through the living room. "Mom, where's Dad gone?"
"Your father?" Bulma looked up at the ceiling, lost in thought. "He's been in the GR for a while now."
"Isn't it time for his break?" The young girl set her hands on her hips. "I don't have all afternoon..."
Vegeta came through with a towel draped loosely around his neck. He shot a quick glance to his daughter as she spoke.
"Finally. Hurry up, I want my lunch."
"Look, kid." He leaned his face in toward hers, scowling. "I don't take orders from you. I am the Prince of Saiyans."
"Which means I'm the Princess of Saiyans," she reminded him, smirking.
"Princesses never tell their fathers what to do."
"This Princess does."
"Guys!" Bulma snapped, catching their attention. "I'm on the phone, here. Keep quiet."
They glared at one another, and then moved away to the kitchen.
Finally, another voice answered on the other end of the phone. "Good afternoon?"
"Hi, Sharon. It's me, Bulma Briefs."
"Mrs. Briefs. How are you?" Sharon replied.
"Fine. And please, call me Bulma. It's been a little while, hasn't it?"
"Yes, it certainly has. What can I do for you?"
"Well, my daughter-in-law is pregnant," she said. "I'm calling to make an appointment for her. She said she wanted a good obstetrician, and you were the first to come to my mind."
Sharon laughed modestly. "So you want an appointment, then. I'm available this next Wednesday at one-thirty. Does that sound alright?"
"Yeah, that's a good time."
"And what's her name again?"
"Demi Briefs," she answered.
After a short pause, Sharon spoke back into the receiver. "Okay, then. I'll see you next week. Thank you, Bulma."
"Thank you, Sharon. Bye." She set the phone back on the hook. "Hm. I hope Vegeta and Chain are getting along well and not causing trouble."
In the kitchen, the father and daughter were still quarreling. "What makes you think you have the right to order me around?"
"You never do anything for me. And besides, I have a right to expect the 'royal treatment."
"Not from me, you don't," he growled.
"We'll see..."
. . . . . .
Demi had just finished hauling out a huge desk, carrying it out of the old room in the hallway. She set it down on the floor and wiped her brow, looking up at her husband. "There's another one. We can toss it, too."
Trunks examined it for a moment before gripping it around the edges and picking it up. "Sure." He started to head off, but paused before he got more than a few steps. "Are you okay? You seem exhausted."
"Well, I am carrying two people and some furniture," she grinned.
Trunks grinned back. "Demi, your stomach hasn't even grown an inch yet. The baby can't be that heavy."
"Says you..."
"What about just being tired?" he wondered. "I know my mom was like that with Chain. She'd just suddenly have these energy drops."
"I doubt that," she replied, wiping her hands off on her jeans. "Besides, I am half-Saiyan just like you. I can take care of myself."
"Just try not to overdo it, sweetie. I do want you to take it easy while you're pregnant."
"Of course you do," Demi nodded. "Go ahead and take that out by the garage, please. I'll finish figuring out what we can keep."
Trunks did what he was told, and then headed back inside to see about anything else she might have wanted to throw out. When he noticed that Demi was no longer tossing tables out of the doorway, he became a bit concerned. Glancing around, he found her sitting in an old rocking chair with her eyes closed, hands placed over her stomach.
"Demi, are you alright?" Trunks approached her and set a hand on her shoulder. "Are you feeling sick again?"
"No, I'm just tired," she replied. "I felt like sitting down for a minute, that's all. I can finish up in a minute."
She tried to stand up from her seat, but Trunks placed a hand on her chest and gently pushed her back into a sitting position. "Maybe you should take it easy, hon. A little bit of rest won't hurt you, you know."
She frowned up at him. "Are you implying that I can't move some furniture?" she snapped.
"Of course not," he answered, blinking a few times. "I'm just concerned for you right now, and I want you to relax as much as you possibly need to."
"Well..." She looked down for a minute before smiling. "Maybe some lunch would be good." She got up from her seat. "You could use a break, too. Do you want me to make you something?"
"Don't worry about it," he grinned. "I can finish up here while you eat."
"Now hold on," she frowned again. "You're not going to move any of the stuff I haven't touched yet, are you? Because I still haven't decided whether the baby can use those or not."
"How's the baby going to use furniture?" he asked sarcastically.
Demi's frown deepened as she stared at him sternly. "Bookshelves, Trunks. Nightstands, dressers...haven't you ever heard of putting a baby's clothes in dressers? Or were you just planning on us throwing some perfectly good furniture away and keeping the baby in an empty room?"
"No," he shook his head. "I just thought that..."
"You don't know the first thing about decorating a room, Trunks, let alone an infant's room," she crossed her arms. "How do you expect me to just allow you to rearrange this place without consulting me first?"
"God honey, I was only trying to help out..."
Demi smiled pleasantly at her husband. "Darling. You're so thoughtful, trying to help me. Okay." She nodded in consent. "You finish up while I make us some lunch." She headed off toward the kitchen, leaving her husband alone in the hall.
Trunks let out a sigh of relief. That was close! He thought Demi was going to blow her top at him. What was bringing all of this on...?
Demi was in the kitchen making them sandwiches; she placed the cheese slices on the bread just when the phone rang. She went to pick it up. "Hello?"
"Demi, it's me," Bulma answered.
"Hi, Mom. What's up?"
"I got you an appointment with an obstetrician this next week," she told her.
"Really? That's great."
"Her name is Sharon, and she's really nice. I'm sure she'll have no trouble keeping up with your little one, either. I made the appointment for Wednesday at one-thirty, is that okay with you?"
"Yeah. I have no plans for then. Trunks can come, too, right?" Demi wondered.
"Of course. So Wednesday I'll meet you guys at your place, and then you can follow me out to the clinic," Bulma told her.
"Sounds like a plan," Demi grinned. "Thank you, Mom. I really appreciate your doing this for me. It takes a load off."
"It's my pleasure." Demi could just hear her smile on the other end. "By the way, have you thought about those monthly outings any?"
"Hm..." She paused in thought, and then glanced over to the calendar on the wall. She smiled. "Well, I think I'd enjoy going out once in a while."
"Wonderful," Bulma replied happily.
"I suppose I can't evade the shopping. I'm going to need some things for the baby. Do you think you could help me out with that?"
"I would love to, dear. I always like to help you guys. So whenever you want to set the date, call me and let me know." Bulma was excited, Demi could tell. But then it was expected, she was the grandmother.
"That I will. Thanks. Bye."
As soon as she hung the phone up, she turned back to the sandwiches she was making. She set her hands on the counter and leaned on it, looking at the bread she was supposed to toast in the oven. 'I am so tired...'she thought. 'But then I'm so hungry!'
About a half hour later, Demi had forced herself to finish up, setting the pile of toasted sandwiches on the dining table. She took a seat and placed her head in her hands, waiting for Trunks to come back.
He did, and it didn't take him long to notice his meal. "Lunch, great. I'm so hungry." He sat down quickly and helped himself to several sandwiches.
"You think you're hungry," Demi mumbled, and then looked up. Trunks was already eating ravenously, without noticing her at all. She scowled at him. "No 'thank you'?"
He looked up at her in surprise as if he'd just now noticed she was sitting across from him.
"I'm the one who made you your meal," she told him crossly. "Don't I even get a bit of thanks? I mean, I was tired but went ahead and cooked for you, anyway."
He swallowed his large bite before speaking. "Sorry. Thanks..."
"Thanks? That's it?" she leaned forward and put a hand on her hip. "Is that the best your can do for your pregnant wife?"
"Demi...I'm sorry, honey. I guess I'm a little tired, too. I'm so hungry." He put a hand over his stomach as he looked up at her.
Demi smiled sweetly. "You poor sweetie. You just want your food..."
Trunks hesitantly reached out for his sandwich again while looking up at his wife. Boy, she was acting really weird, there was no doubt about it... "Demi do you think...you might, um..."
"What's wrong?"
"Was anyone in your family a manic depressive, by any chance?"
She raised an eyebrow at him as she crossed her arms. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Never mind..." 'I better not risk it,' he thought. 'Maybe I can get some advice on it from Gohan. After all, his knowledge on these things is legendary.'
"What's legendary?"
Trunks looked back up at Demi with widened eyes. What...had that been...? Did she just hear his thoughts? He didn't look away from her for several minutes.
"What are you looking at?" she asked, and Trunks was awakened from his trance-like state. "Finish your lunch, dear."
He took an unusually small bite of his meal before mentally nodding to himself. Yeah, he would speak to Gohan. Maybe tomorrow he'd pay him a small visit...
And one more chapter out of the way, so I can move on! Review!
Also, special thanks to my editor for helping out again!