The next few days were agonizingly tense for Yamcha. All of the oddities in Piccolo's behavior continued undeterred, and if anything he seemed to be getting even quieter. The former bandit quickly learned that, if he wanted to maintain any semblance of a conversation with his lover, he had to avoid the subject completely. It ate at him to just leave it at that, but he'd run out of other ideas. He just had to be patient. That's what he kept telling himself. Just be patient...

Luckily, he had a handy distraction from such things. Bulma had her heart set on hosting a masquerade ball at the Scherbakov mansion, and that meant that the two of them could busy themselves with preparing for the event. Well, perhaps that wasn't entirely accurate. Everything was already in order, mostly taken care of by Bulma herself, as promised. It was Yamcha that needed preparing.

The two of them met in the ballroom, where Piccolo was currently off to the side next to a small table. He hovered his hand over the surface and, in a small puff of white smoke, a record player appeared out of thin air. Yamcha, despite having seen him do such a thing several times now, couldn't help but stare in amazement.

"Man, I wish I knew how to do that. Is that a Namekian thing, or can anyone learn it?"

Piccolo gave him an amused smile at the question as he made his way to the center of the massive room to rejoin the other man.

"I don't see why anyone can't learn it, but I suppose it might be easier for Namekians because of our natural telekinetic abilities. I first got the idea that it could be possible when I was studying Einstein's theories."

"Really?" Yamcha asked, rather surprised by that answer. "I thought relativity was all about time, and the speed of light and stuff like that. How does that translate into making stuff out of thin air?"

"Oh, it's deceptively simple once you think about it," Piccolo began, his demeanor brightening as it often did whenever he had the opportunity to explain something new to him. "You just look at his famous equation: E equals MC squared. E is energy, M is mass, and C is the speed of light. What you have, then, is 'energy is equal to mass times the speed of light squared.' What's interesting is that energy and mass are on opposite sides of the equation. For this particular purpose, the speed of light isn't really a factor. Discard that, and what you essentially have is 'energy equals mass.'

"Now, the only thing in the universe that has mass is physical matter. Thinking of it in this way, the equation now becomes 'energy equals matter.'"

"Wait..." Yamcha interrupted, clearly struggling to wrap his head around the subject. "That doesn't make sense. How can energy just equal matter like that? Wouldn't that mean they're the same thing?"

"Precisely!" Piccolo replied enthusiastically. For a brief moment, Yamcha felt as though he was looking into the bright, eager eyes of his lover's teenaged self, back when he first found himself utterly enraptured in the emerging sciences of his era. It was nice seeing him so excited about something for a change.

"At their absolute smallest building blocks, both energy and matter are made up of the same particles. This means that energy can become matter, and vice versa."

Once he said that last bit, however, the smile on the Namekian's face faded.

"Unfortunately, as I was developing a way to turn my own energy into matter, humans were working towards the opposite goal – turning matter into energy – and to devastating effect. A few months after you rescued me from the military hospital in Poland, the American forces dropped two atom bombs on Japan, one in Hiroshima, the other in Nagasaki. I could hear it... I could feel it… even from half a world away. Thousands were vaporized in an instant, and thousands more died horrific and painful deaths in the autumnal fallout...

"Humans have always had this rather peculiar talent. They will discover something that could potentially be used to help people, yet they will always find a way to use it to hurt them instead."

The conversation died out into a somber silence at that. Yamcha couldn't help but feel bad for Piccolo. Science seemed to have been something the Namekian had previously loved, but he'd seen it turn into something so ugly right in front of his eyes. Piccolo seemed to notice that he'd inadvertently killed the mood, as he quickly attempted to correct course.

"But I've gotten terribly off-topic… You wanted to learn how to do it yourself, didn't you?"

"O-oh, no, that's alright. It sounds really complicated. I don't think I'd get it no matter how well you taught me."

Piccolo let out a light chuckle at that, a small smirk appearing across his lips.

"In that case, why don't we teach you something a bit less complex – like what we came here to do in the first place, for instance."

Yamcha's cheeks warmed lightly as Piccolo stepped up very close to him, taking hold of his right hand and wrapping his free arm around to the middle of the shorter man's back. The scarred bandit looked up at the towering giant, letting out a nervous laugh.

"I-I dunno… I think I might be just as bad at this, to be honest…"

"Don't worry; it's just a waltz. It's really very simple, once you know what you're supposed to be doing. Just follow my lead and you'll pick up on it in no time."

With that, Piccolo glanced over towards the record player he'd placed earlier, telekinetically turning it on. After a moment, Shostakovich's Waltz No. 2 began to play, setting an even rhythm for them to start dancing to. Piccolo gave simple instructions from time to time, and Yamcha was quite surprised to find that it wasn't nearly as hard as he'd feared. It seemed the coordination he'd developed as a martial artist crossed over quite nicely into dance. After a while, he gradually became confident enough to stop staring at his feet and look up at his partner instead.

"I gotta say, even with everything else, I never expected you to know something like ballroom dancing. It doesn't seem like your thing."

"Honestly, it's not. I had no interest in dancing, but I was forced to learn for my sister's wedding. Tatyana herself was my partner when I was learning, and I remember how she teased me mercilessly the entire time, making a game of trying to get me utterly flustered."

"So now it's my turn to get the newbie hazing, huh?"

Piccolo laughed lightly at that.

"Oh no, I would not be so cruel…" he began casually. Then, he leaned down until their foreheads touched, moving his hand down to Yamcha's waist and pulling their bodies closer together. His voice lowered to a seductive whisper as he added, "… Unless you want me to be."

Yamcha couldn't help but grin in response, a pleasurable chill running through his body at the deep rumble emanating mere inches from his face. It seemed as though the distance between them would close further still until their lips could touch, but…

Yamcha felt Piccolo grab hold of his shoulders suddenly, trying to steady himself as he nearly lost his balance. He let out a small yelp of surprise, reaching up to help stabilize his lover. Luckily, the Namekian managed to get his feet under him again before he could take a fall.

"H-hey, are you alright?"

"Y-yeah, I'm fine," Piccolo shot back immediately, though his expression betrayed a hint of confusion. "I just… Got dizzy all of a sudden for some reason…"

"Do you want to take a break?"

"Yeah… Yeah, I think we'd better do that," he replied softly, slipping seamlessly back into his old subdued and quiet nature. He quietly excused himself from Yamcha's company and slipped out of the ballroom, leaving the man there to stew in his own confusion.


Finally, the night of the ball arrived. The mansion's ballroom, though it looked rather large when empty, certainly filled up quickly. Bulma had spared no expense in funding the party, as was her habit. One full wall of the great hall was lined with tables, upon which a seemingly endless supply of food and drink was resting. She'd even hired a small orchestral ensemble to play the music for the evening. When she said she wanted to throw a real masquerade, she really wasn't kidding!

Everyone else seemed to be into the whole thing, likely intrigued just because the very concept of the event seemed different and alluring. Tenshinhan even bothered to show up, and with Launch in tow as his date for the night. Krillin had brought along Android 18 once more, who looked surprisingly stunning in a crystal blue gown that seemed to match her icy eyes. It seemed the short monk had finally found the right girl for him, and the lot of them would have to get over what few reservations they might have left about having her around, because she wasn't going anywhere. In fact, the only ones missing from the gathering were the very young children – Trunks and Chi Chi's newborn son Goten – and, of course, Vegeta.

Yamcha was surprised that Vegeta passed up this party. Being so uptight about being a prince, you'd think he would enjoy the pomp and circumstance, but apparently not. Bulma was obviously a little miffed about her husband refusing to show up, and after a few drinks she was loudly declaring that she 'don't need no man to have a good time' and started to dance with Chi Chi instead, much to everyone's amusement.

Yamcha found himself standing off to one side of the room, fiddling with the Oni-inspired mask covering the upper half of his face. It felt weird to have something on his face like that, but he supposed he could deal with it for one night. Luckily his costume wasn't as uncomfortable. He decided to go with something in a Chinese style, which was a lot closer to what he was used to wearing. He wasn't alone in the style choice, though. Tenshinhan and Chi Chi were dressed in similar clothing, while most everyone else wore more traditional European styles. He was sure Piccolo would be in the latter group when he eventually gathered up the courage to show up.

"Hey there, stranger."

Well, speak of the devil. Upon hearing the familiar voice behind him, Yamcha turned to face him with a happy grin on his face. Once he saw him, however, he felt his heart pound in his chest, his cheeks flushing a deep red under his mask. Piccolo's outfit wasn't too far removed from the suit he used to wear as a teenager, though the materials were obviously of a much finer quality. He wore a crimson and black brocade waistcoat over a black silk shirt, a dark caplet hugging his broad shoulders and secured with an intricate gold chain across his chest. The mask he wore covered hardly more that his eyes and the bridge of his nose, and it looked as though it were made of fine black lace. He flashed his stunned lover a smile, the sight of his impressive fangs tying in perfectly with the overall vampiric vibe his outfit gave off.

"W-wow!" Yamcha exclaimed, his heart still fluttering away in his chest at the sight of the truly dapper alien that stood over him. "You look great!"

"And you look incredibly uncomfortable," Piccolo retorted with an amused chuckle. He then offered him a small glass, the contents of which was clearly alcoholic. "You don't have to wear that mask all night, by the way. You can take it off if it's bothering you."

Yamcha accepted the drink without hesitation, immediately removing and discarding his mask to take a sip. He was grateful for being allowed to free his face, even if it technically went against the spirit of the party.

"Thanks," he replied as he pulled the edge of the glass from his lips. "Did you get anything to drink yet? Bulma set up an open bar, so now's the time to have at it."

"O-oh, no, that's quite alright," he replied timidly, a faint hue of purple appearing underneath his mask. "I'm… I'm not in the mood right now. Perhaps later."

"Sure, no problem," Yamcha replied before taking another sip of his drink. He wasn't going to push Piccolo into drinking if he really didn't want to.

"Everyone seems to be enjoying themselves. This is actually a pretty cool party! We should do this more often, huh?"

"Sure, I wouldn't mind that every now and then," Piccolo replied, looking on after the guests of the party with a serene smile on his face. Yamcha looked out across the ballroom, watching as Tenshinhan danced with Launch, Krillin danced with 18, and Bulma danced with Chi Chi. Even Puar was out dancing around with Oolong, each of them transformed into a more anthropomorphic human form to better facilitate the activity. They all looked like they were having fun out there, so much so that he was tempted to ask Piccolo out to dance with him. He eventually decided that there was nothing to lose by it, and he turned to look up at his lover once more.

"Hey, do you want to—"

Yamcha cut himself off abruptly mid-sentence, turning around to find that Piccolo was no longer standing next to him. He furrowed his brows in confusion, looking around for where he could have gotten off to. Eventually, he noticed that one of the doors leading to the balcony outside was open. A quick sense around for energy confirmed that Piccolo was indeed out there. Yamcha abandoned his half-finished drink aside on the nearest table before venturing outside after his boyfriend.

He found Piccolo out there, his hands resting against the banister as he looked down out into the green field below. Yamcha was genuinely unsure if he was simply enjoying the view under the light of the full moon, or if he was feeling ill. The former bandit decided to err on the side of caution, approaching the alien and placing a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"H-hey, are you okay?" he asked, his concern coming through clearly in his voice.

"I'm fi—" Piccolo began, clearly about to lie and say that he was fine again, but he was cut off when he had to slap his hand over his mouth as though trying to resist the urge to puke. Yamcha rushed over closer to his side, rubbing the Namekian's back gently as he attempted to compose himself. Once the feeling subsided, Piccolo let out a small sigh, though if it was one of relief or resignation, Yamcha couldn't be sure.

"I… No, I'm not… I'm not okay…" Piccolo admitted eventually, his shoulders wilting in defeat. Yamcha could feel his heart sink upon hearing that. Had Piccolo somehow been hiding a problem with his health? Was that why he refused to spar recently, and why he refused to drink earlier?

"H-hey, listen…" Yamcha began hesitantly, though he still rubbed gently at his boyfriend's back in an effort to comfort him. "You can tell me anything, y'know? I don't care what it is, I want to know what's going on with you. Please, be honest with me. That's… that's all I ask of you…"

He could feel Piccolo flinch lightly at that familiar line. Eventually, the stoic alien seemed to relax under his touch, slipping himself out from under his comforting hand to turn and look him in the eye.

"I… I'm afraid I haven't been entirely honest with you recently…" Piccolo began, a truly remorseful expression overcoming his face. Yamcha could already feel his heart sinking ever deeper at the direction this conversation was taking, but he listened patiently for now.

"I'm sure you've noticed… I've done a horrible job at masking my behavior lately…" Piccolo continued, unable to look his lover straight in the eye for long as he explained himself. "I-I know I should have told you sooner, but… I was just so afraid how you'd react. Hell, until recently, I wasn't sure how I felt about the whole situation, but… Now I know, and I can't keep it from you any longer."

Yamcha could feel all the warmth draining from his body upon hearing that. This was it, wasn't it? He could feel it. This was the moment when Piccolo would dump him. He'd finally seen through his charm, and there was every possibility that he'd already found someone else that suited him better. That was just Yamcha's luck. He wasn't the guy of someone's dreams. He was the guy people met before meeting the guy of their dreams. He let out a resigned sigh, preparing himself for the worst.

"I-it's… it's okay. Please, tell me," Yamcha replied eventually, averting his eyes from his lover's gaze. He may have been willing to hear the truth, but he couldn't quite bring himself to watch the Namekian warrior deliver the crushing news. He wanted to remember him as the unusual man who had given him the most memorable year of his life, not as the man who destroyed the last of all of his hopes and dreams. After a long, tense moment of silence, Piccolo released a heavy sigh, and Yamcha braced himself for the crushing heartbreak he was sure to feel.

"I'm… I'm pregnant..."

Yamcha's eyes popped open wide upon hearing that. Well, that was certainly not what he was expecting. He looked back up to Piccolo in utter astonishment, his heart suddenly fluttering so high in his chest that he feared it might fly clean out of his mouth. Were his ears deceiving him? Had he heard that properly?

"Y-you're… you're having a baby..?" Yamcha asked hesitantly, his voice barely a whisper. Even so, Piccolo nodded his head in the affirmative.

"A-and… And it's mine?!" he added, his voice gaining strength as the realization gradually started to dawn on him. Piccolo couldn't help but blush profusely at that particular line of questioning.

"O-of course it's yours! Who else would it be?! I've never been with anyone else!" he shot back in retort, sounding almost offended that Yamcha could believe that the child was anyone's but his. Yamcha didn't seem to pick up on that, far too distracted by the information he was just given to really care how such a question would come across. His mouth split into a joyous grin, happy tears gathering in his eyes despite himself. Without warning, he flung himself at Piccolo, pulling him close into a warm embrace and burying his face against the larger man's chest.

"Thank you! Thank you so much!" he managed to blurt out against his lover's chest as he held him close. Eventually, he could feel Piccolo's tense body relax in his grasp, and a pair of strong arms soon wrapped around him to return the embrace.

Yamcha couldn't begin to imagine a moment in which he'd felt so much relief – or, even better, so much happiness. In that one moment, he realized that he'd finally gotten everything he'd wanted. His wishes had all been fulfilled. He was finally going to be a daddy.

He was finally going to be a daddy!