Disclaimer: I do not own DragonBallZ.
Okay! First off, I think I an apology is in order. I am terribly sorry for not updating sooner, really! I've had one of the worst cases of writer's block just recently that no amount of coffee (which I drink almost every time I sit down to write) has been able to cure. So you see just how horrible this has been for me, despite all of my best efforts. But finally some inspiration's hit me again, and now I'm back to work!
Now for my truly grateful thanks to everyone who reviewed my last chapter! You guys have no idea how much it means to me to receive those, it always brightens my day! So here are my thanks to Trugeta, Kaimara, animeprincess1452, and Ladii Chocolate! You guys are just fabulous!
To Trugeta: It seems only expected for a chef to go to pieces at receiving an order for a Saiyan dinner. And true that, making food for Trunks alone is already a big pain, but add to it Demi and you have utter chaos. Thank you so much for reviewing!
To Kaimara: True! You'd think that the employees for the restaurant would have been glad at the prospect of receiving a huge order, thus a huge paycheck. However, work is always a nuisance, regardless of how nice the reward is…Thank you very much!
To animeprincess1452: Thank you very much for the compliment! It's greatly appreciated! Yes, I would say that the host had a moment of alarm there, what with knowing just how much that Saiyan can eat, even if he doesn't know what a Saiyan is…Thank you once again!
To Ladii Chocolate: Thank you so very much for the compliments! They really made my day! Yes, poor Bra…she has no idea just how demanding her nephew can be, though I think it's safe to say that she learned rather quickly. :) Thanks much for reviewing! #waves# Come again!
IMPORTANT: Due to that serious case of writer's block (dreadful thing!) the story will not resume from where it left off (sorry, just can't do it). Instead, the babysitting conclusion will be introduced as a flashback later on. Just to clear any confusion, there!
IMPORTANT2: This chapter is mainly plot and character development; it was written to set the stage for future events, as well as present new character situations.
Okay, then. On with the chapter at last!
Demi sat quietly on the side of her bed, holding her hands together tightly and gazing at the floor of the room in thought. Being a mother for a while now, she was usually accustomed to some type of upsetting noise traveling through the house, but today there was none. Hence the reason such peace seemed rather strange to her…
Earlier today she had kept busy with the regular housework that needed to be done. Of course, she happened to hate housework, but one thing was certain, she loathed a filthy home. And, seeing as how her husband was barely around lately (and since he hardly knew what household tasks were, at that), she was left to grudgingly do them herself.
She'd cleaned the small, dirty kitchen so that it was nearly spotless, a job that was by no means simple as it could barely hold the colossal amounts of food she had to make each morning…
It was only when she got to doing the laundry that Demi noticed an immediate, awkward feeling. She'd been folding a dry towel and scowling to herself ('Why do I always do the work around here…?'), when suddenly, a type of nausea entered her stomach.
At first she ignored it, dismissing it simply as nothing. But as the day progressed and late afternoon approached, the queasiness sank deeper, and worsened by the minute.
Her first thought, naturally, was that a few stomach tablets would help, so she headed to the bathroom to retrieve some from a bottle. The tablets did help a bit, but not fully, thus Demi was unable to ignore the bothersome sensation.
Sometime later, she was forced to put all of her duties to a halt, and lie down to ease the frustrating sickness; spreading herself over the couch, she rested her forehead on the soft, supportive arm, breathing deeply while she blinked.
'Now what's wrong?' she thought in aggravation, narrowing her eyes.
Then, without warning, she shot up from her position and rushed to the bathroom, putting a hand over her mouth to catch the vomit that splattered into it. It was only then that she began to have her doubts, and concern for something other than her nausea rapidly came to mind.
For the remainder of the afternoon, she paced back and forth fearfully, giving the apparent matter some deep and serious thought. She frantically tried to recall all happenings throughout the past couple of months, wondering whether a one possibility was….well, possible.
She did this until she noticed the lowering sun outside the balcony window, and then decided to rest in her bedroom.
She sat for a long time, staring at the carpet, a sense of patience as well as eagerness settled over her, when the sound of the front door opening and closing made her look up.
Footsteps marched up the wide stairs, coming soon into the hallway, and then a small knock on the bedroom door was heard.
"Yes…" she replied.
It swung open to reveal a short, grinning figure wearing a dark blue training outfit, orange belt, and brown boots; with lavender hair and blue eyes, Haksang Briefs was the spitting image of his father, something that was pointed out quite often by friends. "Hey, Mom," he said as he hung on and leaned from the doorknob. "We're home from training."
"Looks like it."
At that moment, Trainer joined his little brother from behind and waved silently. He, too, was a mini-version of Trunks, though midnight-purple hair proved that he was just as much his mother's as he was his father's son. "What's up?" he asked.
Haksang chimed, "What'cha doin' in here?"
"Contemplating."
The six-year-old raised an eyebrow at her. "What does that mean?"
They glanced up behind them as Trunks entered the doorway, who smiled at his wife as he took off his light, dark blue jacket and set it aside. "Hi, Demi."
"Hello."
"Dad, what does 'comtemplating' mean?" his youngest son inquired.
"You mean 'contemplating?'"
He nodded. "Yeah, Mom says that's what she's doing right now," he threw a thumb over his shoulder, pointing back.
Before Trunks had the opportunity to answer, Trainer had already intervened and gave Haksang his own definition. "In this case, bro, it means she's alone in her room and doesn't want to be bothered. By you," he added, pointing a finger accusingly at the other to where he nearly touched the tip of his nose.
"You too," he retorted, and aimed a finger, as well.
What followed was an intense glaring contest between the two brothers, accompanied by a harsh silence that warned Trunks of what might ensue if he failed to step in. "Hey, guys, calm down. I don't want you two to end up fighting."
"Mom, can you make us something to eat?" They turned quickly to aforesaid woman, lowering their arms and grinning goofily at her.
"Not now. There's something I need to tell your father."
"Why don't you go ahead and help yourselves so your mom and I can talk?" Trunks suggested, and they did just that.
Trunks closed the bedroom door behind him and took a seat on the edge of the bed beside his wife, staring at her. "What is it you want to tell me, hon?"
Demi closed her eyes softly and sighed, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees. "I…think…" she started, and then trailed off.
Trunks glanced over to his nightstand uncertainly, wondering what could possibly be so hard to say that Demi had to search for the right words.
Finally, she said, "…I think we might need to make room for another baby."
And there you have it! Don't mind the length, as said many times before, I only make the chapters as long as they need to be! Plus I figure it's better if stop there, this way I have plenty of thoughts for the start of the next chapter! Anyway, I hope you'll all forgive me for the terribly late update! Please review, too!
By the way, I just thought I should mention: today is the 7th of December, my birthday! It'd be very nice to get some gifts from my readers. As reviews, of course!