Last time:
"I ruined my life," he whispered, his face finally shedding its hard outer layer. "But that doesn't matter…because I ruined her life and I can't undo that."
Mrs. Ouji gasped silently in an effort to calm her sadness. She reached over and pulled her son to her, resting his head on her shoulder. To her complete surprise he allowed her to do this, even going so far as to clutch her arm. And then, for the first time since his father's death, he accepted comfort…and cried.
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Mr. Hakaru droned on in front of the class, his point lost to those still listening. He had a tendency to ramble on in and effort to make his advanced math classes more interesting and understandable. Bulma found it boring either way and usually ended up napping through second and fifth period. Her friends thought she was crazy taking the two hardest math classes the school offered, but then again they never did understand her capacity for knowledge. It was like coloring inside the lines, and most of the time she ended up re-explaining a problem to the class in a way they could understand. Now, however, it was more than boredom that kept her mind astray.
"Miss Briefs," Mr. Hakaru snapped, giving her desk a hard rap with a ruler. "Would you mind waking up and solving the problem on the board?"
Bulma rolled her eyes and went to the board. He was always doing this to her, mostly due to the fact that she was better qualified to teach the class than he was. He was jealous and it burned him that a mere student could question his authority in such a way.
"Not quite," Mr. Hakaru said, chuckling softly. "You forgot one very important element. I would hate to see that kind of math cause a machine to malfunction and hurt innocent people."
"What are you talking about?" Bulma sighed. "There's nothing wrong with my math."
Mr. Hakaru smirked devilishly, reminding her instantly of Vegeta, and advanced towards the board. He unfolded his arms and smacked the ruler in the center of the problem.
"I don't see anything."
"This," he said, "is the wrong coefficient. You just vaporized an entire building."
Bulma glared heavily at her teacher for a moment, then studied the problem. She wasn't seeing what he was apparently seeing. But, just as she was about to take her seat, she caught it. Of course! It was all wrong and she hadn't noticed.
Slowly she brought her fingers to her lips, her other hand hugging her belly. The entire class grimaced and groaned as she flew at the trashcan and emptied her breakfast into it. She sighed deeply and slid to the floor. It had been over a week since she'd vomited. She thought it was all over.
The bell rang moments later and students began to file out. Most chose to not look in her direction for fear of getting nauseous themselves, though when Bulma finally looked up she saw a few people staring at her in confusion as they passed. One girl inparticular caught her attention. As she walked by she wrinkled her nose and was almost out the door, but then back tracked a few steps and her eyes widened. She stared directly at Bulma for a few very long seconds, then smirked and walked out. Bulma didn't know what to make of it, and was about to stand, when Mr. Hakaru's shadow loomed over her.
"You might want to cover that up," he snarled, pointing towards her stomach. Bulma only glared hard until he walked to his desk on the other side of the room, at which point she looked down to see what he'd been referring to. And, to her complete horror, she saw that her nearly-five-month-pregnant belly was poking out, her shirt having come up slightly in her haste to sit and rest.
"You don't seem too surprised," Bulma snapped, pulling her shirt down and marching over to Mr. Hakaru's desk. He rolled his eyes and went about his work. "Well?"
"Why would I be?" he snapped back. "When a student gets excused from class for the nurse as much as you do it usually draws attention. Because you're my student and are entrusted in my care—" Bulma wrinkled her nose at his sarcasm. "—I have a right to know why you are missing my classes."
"Like I need to be here to pass, you nosey prick."
"Temper, Miss Briefs. You don't want to have detention with me AGAIN, do you? You know that neither of us would enjoy that very much."
"You're right," she said, taking a deep breath to calm herself. At least she was comforted by the fact that he was bound by law to keep her secret to himself. She turned on her heel and headed to lunch, though stopped at the door, unable to help herself. "I could stay after though if you need my help, you know, with the difficult equations. I know how hard they can be for amateurs like you."
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"Geez, what took you so long?" Maris asked as Bulma sat beside her at the lunch table. "We've been waiting forever."
"Nothing," Bulma sighed. "Just got into a little fight with Mr. Thinks-He-Knows-Everything."
"Did he give you detention again?" Chi-Chi asked.
"No, not this time. I think its safe to say I won't be staying after anymore this year. I mean, we have like two weeks left until finals and we're done. I think we both want to spend that time celebrating the fact we won't see each other again…Stupid asshole."
"Kami, I still can't believe you act that way with a teacher," Maris said. "I thought you were going to get expelled last week when you called him a know-nothing sleazebag in the middle of the hall."
"Yeah," Bulma laughed. "Me too. I'm lucky none of the other teachers like him either."
"Hey Briefs!" yelled a voice from across the cafeteria. The entire table, along with the rest of the room, looked up and at the girl with long brown hair. It was the girl from her math class, and without knowing a thing about her, Bulma knew exactly why she'd called her. "I guess you and Mau really do do everything together!" the girl laughed, then disappeared into her group of friends and exited the cafeteria.
"What was that all about?" Krillin asked, coming back from the bathroom. "Why was SHE talking to you?"
"Oh Kami," Bulma groaned, putting her head down and covering it with her arms. Nothing good could possibly come from that.
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
Vegeta grimaced as the icy liquor went down his throat, though the sting was just what he needed. His mother had been gone for a few hours now, shopping and taking in the sites of Rome, the third stop on their European tour. It had been nearly a month since Vegeta up and left. To avoid confrontation with Jun or his band mates, he left his cellular phone and beeper at home and advised his mother to do the same. No doubt they were going crazy without him, as they always did. Bulma had surely told them by now where they'd gone.
He frowned at the thought of her, the reason he'd called room service for the alcohol in the first place. For the life of him he couldn't figure out why she—of all people—was constantly on his mind. He could think of a million and one women who were more bearable than Bulma, but, inevitably, she always found her way into his mind and managed to sour his mood.
A knock at the door brought him back to reality, and he set down his glass and answered it.
"The magazines and newspapers you ordered, sir," said a young man with short blonde hair in Italian.
"Right," Vegeta said, grabbing them. He tipped the servant a few hundred dollars and went into the living room. The magazines and papers were a day old, however, for he ordered ones from Japan to keep up on events. Unfortunately, with his luck, Bulma managed to get herself on the cover of at least one of the magazines every few days.
Today she was on the cover of two of the magazines and the front page of both newspapers. Omezo, who was usually at her side, was nowhere in sight. One of the magazines had both Bulma and Chi-Chi coming out of a clinic, and so he tossed it aside. Nothing he didn't already know. It was the other magazine and the papers that caught his attention. Something about Bulma was different, the angle at which the picture was taken perhaps. But then, as his eyes finally landed on the headline, he understood and his mind went blank.
"Kami no," he whispered, the periodicals slipping from his fingers.
Mrs. Ouji walked in just in time to catch her son as he fell off the couch. She flung her bags away and caught his head just before it collided with the coffee table. She didn't need to ask what happened. Last night she received a call from 18, having secretly kept her cell phone and turned the ringer off.
"I'm so sorry you had to find out like this," Mrs. Ouji sighed, patting her unconscious son's forehead. "But I'm so glad you finally know."
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Bulma looked up from her book, confused. The doorbell was ringing, but everyone she knew was busy today. She shrugged her shoulders and answered the door, taking a step back when she saw who it was.
"18," Bulma said, holding her hand to her chest. "I thought you and Krillin had plans."
"What I have to say won't take long," 18 replied icily. Bulma frowned and went back to her seat. 18 was content to stand.
"Can I get you anything?"
"You made promise," 18 snapped. "And you broke that promise."
"18, I—"
"You what? You couldn't tell him? You couldn't find the words? The moment wasn't right? What could have possibly made you keep the truth from him for this long? It's his baby too, for Kami's sake! If you need help, try this: I'm pregnant with your baby, Vegeta!"
"18, please! Let me talk!"
18 crossed her arms and glared, but said nothing.
"I called him over the day he left to tell him, honest. And I tried, but before I could he told me he didn't want to be friends anymore and we fought and he left. I didn't have a chance to tell him before he drove away. And then I called his cell, but he wouldn't pick up."
"What about going to his house? Its not like he could leave without his mother when he took her with him!"
"Why are you so angry, anyway?" Bulma bit back. "I didn't force you to not tell him. You've been his friend longer than you've been mine. You could have easily told him and saved us this grief."
"No," 18 hissed. "You could have told him. Besides, I don't break promises."
"I didn't either! I tried and it was his fault I couldn't tell him!"
"Oh really? What about your clothes?"
"What do you mean, what about my clothes?"
"Bulma Briefs! You know damn well what I mean! You've been wearing your clothes extra baggy ever since you started to show! No one had any idea you were showing this much until last week, so you broke your promise and you lied. And now Vegeta has to find out from a magazine!"
"What are you talking about?"
18 reached into her back pocket and threw a magazine on the table in front of Bulma. She flinched, but immediately grabbed it and gasped.
"Kuso," she swore, thumbing to the article. She skimmed it for a moment then leaned back and sighed.
"Every time we go on tour he has Japanese magazines and newspapers shipped to his hotel rooms. No doubt he's on his way home right now to confront you, and you better have a better story than the one you just fed me, because I'm being nice."
Bulma tried to focus on 18's words, but they faded as soon as they left her lips. Of course she knew that he ordered the magazines, she wasn't stupid. Every Green Dragon fan knew that. And now, after all she'd been through, she couldn't have the privilege of telling Vegeta in person. She'd waited too long and now it was too late. Whatever sort of relationship they'd had left before he went to Europe was completely shattered now.
So much for mending bridges before the baby was born.
"What're you going to do?" 18 asked after a few moments of silence. "You know he's coming here as soon as he gets off the plane."
"I know," Bulma sighed. "I guess I deserve this…"
"No you don't." 18 frowned and sidled up next to Bulma, wrapping her arms around her shoulders. "Look, I'm sorry I was so hard on you, and you're right, my relationship with Vegeta is very strong. I couldn't let this go without getting my anger out. I'm sorry I yelled."
"It's alright. You have every right to and so does he."
"Bulma, listen to yourself. No I don't and neither does Vegeta. I crossed the line and I'm sorry. Just because you didn't tell him doesn't mean you deserve this. Maybe you're right, maybe it is better he found out this way. Who knows, maybe it'll teach him that his actions have consequences."
"I just wish I could have been able to tell him. It would have been a lot easier than to find out from some crappy picture…Stupid bitch."
"What?"
"This girl at school. She happened to notice my belly and made sure I knew she did. It was probably her who tipped off the press. They were supposed to be in Townsend looking for me and Omezo, not staking out the clinic. I thought I was safe."
"Omezo does know about the baby, right?"
"Of course he does. We're hugging all the time for candid shots. He knew a month ago. He's been sending me packets; baby clothes, toys, books. It's really sweet."
"Damn," 18 sighed. "If I didn't know any better I'd think you two really were dating."
"I know," Bulma laughed. "He's a great guy. I never knew I could have such a good time with a jock."
"You're not falling for him, are you?"
"No, of course not. He's just my pseudo boyfriend and my friend, nothing else. I don't think about him that way."
"Well that's good. The last thing you need right now is a real boyfriend getting steamed when Vegeta comes stomping back."
Bulma hung her head and looked away. "Do you really think he'll be that angry?"
"It's Vegeta we're talking about, B. He would have been angry if you told him the second you found out. It's in his nature to be mad at what he can't control."
"If you get a chance to get him alone can you try to tell him sorry for me?"
"No problem."
"One more thing."
"Yeah?"
A small smile came to Bulma's lips. "I think I finally decided on a name."
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Goku, 17, and 18 sat on Bulma's front porch, their eyes darting towards the road every now and then, though mostly they talked about the band to keep their emotions calm. A few hours ago 18 received a call from Mrs. Ouji. She'd managed to slip away to the bathroom on the plane to make the call, warning them that she and Vegeta were on their way home, and he was none too pleased with Bulma.
Inside, Bulma and the others waited nervously, each dealing with their stress in different ways. Bulma and Chi-Chi tried to keep themselves calm by discussing their pregnancies and what they did and did not have already. Bulma's mother had turned the bedroom next to hers into a nursery, and had filled it with the essentials, as well as other unnecessary items. Chi-Chi's father and uncle had been working on an addition to their home ever since the snow melted. If things kept going smoothly, the nursery and extra bathroom would be complete well before the arrival of the baby.
"What do you think he'll do?" Krillin asked, catching everyone's attention. "You don't think he'd…hurt you."
"Of course not," Bulma all but snapped. "He has SOME brains in that big head of his. Besides, Goku and the twins are planning to hold him back if he's too…jumpy."
"Are you nervous?"
But she didn't have time to answer, as 18's head popped in and said, "Get ready. He's almost to your driveway." She shut the door and the room went silent and all that could be heard was the slamming of a car door.
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"Let me go!" Vegeta growled, kicking at his friends as they held his arms and tried to keep him outside. The plan was to calm him down some before he was allowed to see Bulma.
"Please, let him go," Mrs. Ouji said. She'd watched them overpower him for as long as she could take. "He won't do anything stupid."
"Sorry Mrs. O," 17 said, wincing as Vegeta landed a kick to his shin. "No can do. He needs to calm down before he sets foot in that house. The last thing we need his Bulma going into labor because of stress."
"You should have told me!" Vegeta yelled, piercing their ears. "You all knew and you didn't tell me, so get your hands off me!"
"Why? So you can storm in there and scare Bulma to death?" 18 snapped. "I don't think so Vegeta. Just take a deep breath and calm down. There's nothing you can do to change the situation, so stop fighting us. We'll let you go when you're ready to be civil."
"With you people?" he scoffed. "That's rich."
"And we should be civil with someone like you?"
Everyone looked up to see Bulma standing on the front porch, only yards away from the struggle in her driveway.
"Let him go," she said. "We're well past needing to have this conversation."
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---Chapter 9!! Aww, I'm a stinker, huh? LOL. I always leave you people with horrible cliffhangers, but hey! At least Vegeta knows and you got to see his reaction. What you expected, huh? The reaction I mean. You didn't think I'd have him find out that way, did you?…Alas, I am so cruel to my pseudo characters.
REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (Reviews-More Chapters)
Next time: Bulma and Vegeta talk…gasp
Note: In an effort to get this chapter out quicker I haven't revised it yet, so let the typos go! :P
Note2: The beginning with the school stuff does have a point, in case anyone was wondering. I wanted to show you that Bulma was still obsessing over Vegeta (even though it might not have been slap-in-the-face obvious) and it was foreshadowing the magazine.
"I ruined my life," he whispered, his face finally shedding its hard outer layer. "But that doesn't matter…because I ruined her life and I can't undo that."
Mrs. Ouji gasped silently in an effort to calm her sadness. She reached over and pulled her son to her, resting his head on her shoulder. To her complete surprise he allowed her to do this, even going so far as to clutch her arm. And then, for the first time since his father's death, he accepted comfort…and cried.
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Mr. Hakaru droned on in front of the class, his point lost to those still listening. He had a tendency to ramble on in and effort to make his advanced math classes more interesting and understandable. Bulma found it boring either way and usually ended up napping through second and fifth period. Her friends thought she was crazy taking the two hardest math classes the school offered, but then again they never did understand her capacity for knowledge. It was like coloring inside the lines, and most of the time she ended up re-explaining a problem to the class in a way they could understand. Now, however, it was more than boredom that kept her mind astray.
"Miss Briefs," Mr. Hakaru snapped, giving her desk a hard rap with a ruler. "Would you mind waking up and solving the problem on the board?"
Bulma rolled her eyes and went to the board. He was always doing this to her, mostly due to the fact that she was better qualified to teach the class than he was. He was jealous and it burned him that a mere student could question his authority in such a way.
"Not quite," Mr. Hakaru said, chuckling softly. "You forgot one very important element. I would hate to see that kind of math cause a machine to malfunction and hurt innocent people."
"What are you talking about?" Bulma sighed. "There's nothing wrong with my math."
Mr. Hakaru smirked devilishly, reminding her instantly of Vegeta, and advanced towards the board. He unfolded his arms and smacked the ruler in the center of the problem.
"I don't see anything."
"This," he said, "is the wrong coefficient. You just vaporized an entire building."
Bulma glared heavily at her teacher for a moment, then studied the problem. She wasn't seeing what he was apparently seeing. But, just as she was about to take her seat, she caught it. Of course! It was all wrong and she hadn't noticed.
Slowly she brought her fingers to her lips, her other hand hugging her belly. The entire class grimaced and groaned as she flew at the trashcan and emptied her breakfast into it. She sighed deeply and slid to the floor. It had been over a week since she'd vomited. She thought it was all over.
The bell rang moments later and students began to file out. Most chose to not look in her direction for fear of getting nauseous themselves, though when Bulma finally looked up she saw a few people staring at her in confusion as they passed. One girl inparticular caught her attention. As she walked by she wrinkled her nose and was almost out the door, but then back tracked a few steps and her eyes widened. She stared directly at Bulma for a few very long seconds, then smirked and walked out. Bulma didn't know what to make of it, and was about to stand, when Mr. Hakaru's shadow loomed over her.
"You might want to cover that up," he snarled, pointing towards her stomach. Bulma only glared hard until he walked to his desk on the other side of the room, at which point she looked down to see what he'd been referring to. And, to her complete horror, she saw that her nearly-five-month-pregnant belly was poking out, her shirt having come up slightly in her haste to sit and rest.
"You don't seem too surprised," Bulma snapped, pulling her shirt down and marching over to Mr. Hakaru's desk. He rolled his eyes and went about his work. "Well?"
"Why would I be?" he snapped back. "When a student gets excused from class for the nurse as much as you do it usually draws attention. Because you're my student and are entrusted in my care—" Bulma wrinkled her nose at his sarcasm. "—I have a right to know why you are missing my classes."
"Like I need to be here to pass, you nosey prick."
"Temper, Miss Briefs. You don't want to have detention with me AGAIN, do you? You know that neither of us would enjoy that very much."
"You're right," she said, taking a deep breath to calm herself. At least she was comforted by the fact that he was bound by law to keep her secret to himself. She turned on her heel and headed to lunch, though stopped at the door, unable to help herself. "I could stay after though if you need my help, you know, with the difficult equations. I know how hard they can be for amateurs like you."
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"Geez, what took you so long?" Maris asked as Bulma sat beside her at the lunch table. "We've been waiting forever."
"Nothing," Bulma sighed. "Just got into a little fight with Mr. Thinks-He-Knows-Everything."
"Did he give you detention again?" Chi-Chi asked.
"No, not this time. I think its safe to say I won't be staying after anymore this year. I mean, we have like two weeks left until finals and we're done. I think we both want to spend that time celebrating the fact we won't see each other again…Stupid asshole."
"Kami, I still can't believe you act that way with a teacher," Maris said. "I thought you were going to get expelled last week when you called him a know-nothing sleazebag in the middle of the hall."
"Yeah," Bulma laughed. "Me too. I'm lucky none of the other teachers like him either."
"Hey Briefs!" yelled a voice from across the cafeteria. The entire table, along with the rest of the room, looked up and at the girl with long brown hair. It was the girl from her math class, and without knowing a thing about her, Bulma knew exactly why she'd called her. "I guess you and Mau really do do everything together!" the girl laughed, then disappeared into her group of friends and exited the cafeteria.
"What was that all about?" Krillin asked, coming back from the bathroom. "Why was SHE talking to you?"
"Oh Kami," Bulma groaned, putting her head down and covering it with her arms. Nothing good could possibly come from that.
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Vegeta grimaced as the icy liquor went down his throat, though the sting was just what he needed. His mother had been gone for a few hours now, shopping and taking in the sites of Rome, the third stop on their European tour. It had been nearly a month since Vegeta up and left. To avoid confrontation with Jun or his band mates, he left his cellular phone and beeper at home and advised his mother to do the same. No doubt they were going crazy without him, as they always did. Bulma had surely told them by now where they'd gone.
He frowned at the thought of her, the reason he'd called room service for the alcohol in the first place. For the life of him he couldn't figure out why she—of all people—was constantly on his mind. He could think of a million and one women who were more bearable than Bulma, but, inevitably, she always found her way into his mind and managed to sour his mood.
A knock at the door brought him back to reality, and he set down his glass and answered it.
"The magazines and newspapers you ordered, sir," said a young man with short blonde hair in Italian.
"Right," Vegeta said, grabbing them. He tipped the servant a few hundred dollars and went into the living room. The magazines and papers were a day old, however, for he ordered ones from Japan to keep up on events. Unfortunately, with his luck, Bulma managed to get herself on the cover of at least one of the magazines every few days.
Today she was on the cover of two of the magazines and the front page of both newspapers. Omezo, who was usually at her side, was nowhere in sight. One of the magazines had both Bulma and Chi-Chi coming out of a clinic, and so he tossed it aside. Nothing he didn't already know. It was the other magazine and the papers that caught his attention. Something about Bulma was different, the angle at which the picture was taken perhaps. But then, as his eyes finally landed on the headline, he understood and his mind went blank.
"Kami no," he whispered, the periodicals slipping from his fingers.
Mrs. Ouji walked in just in time to catch her son as he fell off the couch. She flung her bags away and caught his head just before it collided with the coffee table. She didn't need to ask what happened. Last night she received a call from 18, having secretly kept her cell phone and turned the ringer off.
"I'm so sorry you had to find out like this," Mrs. Ouji sighed, patting her unconscious son's forehead. "But I'm so glad you finally know."
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Bulma looked up from her book, confused. The doorbell was ringing, but everyone she knew was busy today. She shrugged her shoulders and answered the door, taking a step back when she saw who it was.
"18," Bulma said, holding her hand to her chest. "I thought you and Krillin had plans."
"What I have to say won't take long," 18 replied icily. Bulma frowned and went back to her seat. 18 was content to stand.
"Can I get you anything?"
"You made promise," 18 snapped. "And you broke that promise."
"18, I—"
"You what? You couldn't tell him? You couldn't find the words? The moment wasn't right? What could have possibly made you keep the truth from him for this long? It's his baby too, for Kami's sake! If you need help, try this: I'm pregnant with your baby, Vegeta!"
"18, please! Let me talk!"
18 crossed her arms and glared, but said nothing.
"I called him over the day he left to tell him, honest. And I tried, but before I could he told me he didn't want to be friends anymore and we fought and he left. I didn't have a chance to tell him before he drove away. And then I called his cell, but he wouldn't pick up."
"What about going to his house? Its not like he could leave without his mother when he took her with him!"
"Why are you so angry, anyway?" Bulma bit back. "I didn't force you to not tell him. You've been his friend longer than you've been mine. You could have easily told him and saved us this grief."
"No," 18 hissed. "You could have told him. Besides, I don't break promises."
"I didn't either! I tried and it was his fault I couldn't tell him!"
"Oh really? What about your clothes?"
"What do you mean, what about my clothes?"
"Bulma Briefs! You know damn well what I mean! You've been wearing your clothes extra baggy ever since you started to show! No one had any idea you were showing this much until last week, so you broke your promise and you lied. And now Vegeta has to find out from a magazine!"
"What are you talking about?"
18 reached into her back pocket and threw a magazine on the table in front of Bulma. She flinched, but immediately grabbed it and gasped.
"Kuso," she swore, thumbing to the article. She skimmed it for a moment then leaned back and sighed.
"Every time we go on tour he has Japanese magazines and newspapers shipped to his hotel rooms. No doubt he's on his way home right now to confront you, and you better have a better story than the one you just fed me, because I'm being nice."
Bulma tried to focus on 18's words, but they faded as soon as they left her lips. Of course she knew that he ordered the magazines, she wasn't stupid. Every Green Dragon fan knew that. And now, after all she'd been through, she couldn't have the privilege of telling Vegeta in person. She'd waited too long and now it was too late. Whatever sort of relationship they'd had left before he went to Europe was completely shattered now.
So much for mending bridges before the baby was born.
"What're you going to do?" 18 asked after a few moments of silence. "You know he's coming here as soon as he gets off the plane."
"I know," Bulma sighed. "I guess I deserve this…"
"No you don't." 18 frowned and sidled up next to Bulma, wrapping her arms around her shoulders. "Look, I'm sorry I was so hard on you, and you're right, my relationship with Vegeta is very strong. I couldn't let this go without getting my anger out. I'm sorry I yelled."
"It's alright. You have every right to and so does he."
"Bulma, listen to yourself. No I don't and neither does Vegeta. I crossed the line and I'm sorry. Just because you didn't tell him doesn't mean you deserve this. Maybe you're right, maybe it is better he found out this way. Who knows, maybe it'll teach him that his actions have consequences."
"I just wish I could have been able to tell him. It would have been a lot easier than to find out from some crappy picture…Stupid bitch."
"What?"
"This girl at school. She happened to notice my belly and made sure I knew she did. It was probably her who tipped off the press. They were supposed to be in Townsend looking for me and Omezo, not staking out the clinic. I thought I was safe."
"Omezo does know about the baby, right?"
"Of course he does. We're hugging all the time for candid shots. He knew a month ago. He's been sending me packets; baby clothes, toys, books. It's really sweet."
"Damn," 18 sighed. "If I didn't know any better I'd think you two really were dating."
"I know," Bulma laughed. "He's a great guy. I never knew I could have such a good time with a jock."
"You're not falling for him, are you?"
"No, of course not. He's just my pseudo boyfriend and my friend, nothing else. I don't think about him that way."
"Well that's good. The last thing you need right now is a real boyfriend getting steamed when Vegeta comes stomping back."
Bulma hung her head and looked away. "Do you really think he'll be that angry?"
"It's Vegeta we're talking about, B. He would have been angry if you told him the second you found out. It's in his nature to be mad at what he can't control."
"If you get a chance to get him alone can you try to tell him sorry for me?"
"No problem."
"One more thing."
"Yeah?"
A small smile came to Bulma's lips. "I think I finally decided on a name."
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Goku, 17, and 18 sat on Bulma's front porch, their eyes darting towards the road every now and then, though mostly they talked about the band to keep their emotions calm. A few hours ago 18 received a call from Mrs. Ouji. She'd managed to slip away to the bathroom on the plane to make the call, warning them that she and Vegeta were on their way home, and he was none too pleased with Bulma.
Inside, Bulma and the others waited nervously, each dealing with their stress in different ways. Bulma and Chi-Chi tried to keep themselves calm by discussing their pregnancies and what they did and did not have already. Bulma's mother had turned the bedroom next to hers into a nursery, and had filled it with the essentials, as well as other unnecessary items. Chi-Chi's father and uncle had been working on an addition to their home ever since the snow melted. If things kept going smoothly, the nursery and extra bathroom would be complete well before the arrival of the baby.
"What do you think he'll do?" Krillin asked, catching everyone's attention. "You don't think he'd…hurt you."
"Of course not," Bulma all but snapped. "He has SOME brains in that big head of his. Besides, Goku and the twins are planning to hold him back if he's too…jumpy."
"Are you nervous?"
But she didn't have time to answer, as 18's head popped in and said, "Get ready. He's almost to your driveway." She shut the door and the room went silent and all that could be heard was the slamming of a car door.
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"Let me go!" Vegeta growled, kicking at his friends as they held his arms and tried to keep him outside. The plan was to calm him down some before he was allowed to see Bulma.
"Please, let him go," Mrs. Ouji said. She'd watched them overpower him for as long as she could take. "He won't do anything stupid."
"Sorry Mrs. O," 17 said, wincing as Vegeta landed a kick to his shin. "No can do. He needs to calm down before he sets foot in that house. The last thing we need his Bulma going into labor because of stress."
"You should have told me!" Vegeta yelled, piercing their ears. "You all knew and you didn't tell me, so get your hands off me!"
"Why? So you can storm in there and scare Bulma to death?" 18 snapped. "I don't think so Vegeta. Just take a deep breath and calm down. There's nothing you can do to change the situation, so stop fighting us. We'll let you go when you're ready to be civil."
"With you people?" he scoffed. "That's rich."
"And we should be civil with someone like you?"
Everyone looked up to see Bulma standing on the front porch, only yards away from the struggle in her driveway.
"Let him go," she said. "We're well past needing to have this conversation."
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---Chapter 9!! Aww, I'm a stinker, huh? LOL. I always leave you people with horrible cliffhangers, but hey! At least Vegeta knows and you got to see his reaction. What you expected, huh? The reaction I mean. You didn't think I'd have him find out that way, did you?…Alas, I am so cruel to my pseudo characters.
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Next time: Bulma and Vegeta talk…gasp
Note: In an effort to get this chapter out quicker I haven't revised it yet, so let the typos go! :P
Note2: The beginning with the school stuff does have a point, in case anyone was wondering. I wanted to show you that Bulma was still obsessing over Vegeta (even though it might not have been slap-in-the-face obvious) and it was foreshadowing the magazine.