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III.

Tea Talk

"So, he hasn't left the solar system yet?" the raven-haired woman inquired callously, sipping her herbal tea.

"Nope, so far he's still in this gravitational field," replied the blue-haired woman sitting across from her, also enjoying a cup of tea. "Come on Chi-Chi, cut him some slack. I know he's not your favorite person, but he's taking this surprisingly well!" Bulma defended her grumpy mate, although she understood Chi-Chi's perspective; Vegeta's greatest desire was to pummel Chi-Chi's kind hearted husband into an unrecognizable pile of Kakarot bones.

Chi-Chi rolled her eyes, finding Bulma's defense of the no-good Saiyan Prince weak, at best.

"I mean," Bulma began again, "it's not like he's attending my Lamaze classes or shopping for breast pumps or anything," she snorted at the mental image of this, "but I know he cares. He just has his…own…Vegeta way of showing it."

"Is he going to be there for the birth, then?" Chi-Chi raised her eyebrow, attempting to stifle a chuckle at her own mental image.

Bulma, however, stifled nothing, and laughed outright. "The man can't handle worms, Chi-Chi, do you really think he could make it through one minute of watching childbirth?"

At this, both women cackled hysterically. As she wiped a tear of laughter from her eye, however, the younger woman's face became serious. "Are you concerned at all? I know you had some trouble with Trunks."

The scientist shrugged. "Well, you know just as well as I do, half-Saiyan babies aren't entirely compatible with whole-human mothers," she answered, gripping her tea cup a little tighter. "Was it worse the second time around for you?"

Chi-Chi shook her head. "No, about the same. I mean, it wasn't a walk in the park," she put a hand on Bulma's and gave a comforting smile, "but it never is, am I right? I wouldn't worry."

Bulma returned the smile and nodded, "I'm not, really. I have the best doctors money can buy, after all! I just don't know how I'm going to explain away a tail on the sonogram!" Both women laughed again, breaking the tension in the air. Bulma, however, was worried. Trunks's birth had been less than ideal, and she was a good decade older this time around. Her children could not grow up in a single parent household in which that parent was Vegeta: Prince of All Saiyans, former planet-destroying terrorist, entertainment-system challenged monkey alien. The end of family movie nights would be the least of their problems.

"Alright then, just let me know if you need anything," Chi-Chi said supportively, finishing her last mouthful of tea. "I've gotta get going, you know how the boys get when dinner is late."

Bulma could sense the bitterness in her friend's tone, and smiled to herself. "Don't get me started. You would not believe what the Prince of All Saiyans and his heir did to our refrigerator," she commiserated, shaking her head.

"Honestly, we must be the most patient women on Earth!" Chi-Chi insisted as the two headed for the door.

"Ha, yeah…" Bulma tried to keep a straight face, imagining herself ever using the adjective "patient" to describe her old friend. "Anyway, thanks for coming by!"

"Glad to!" Chi-Chi waved goodbye, and Bulma shut the door with a sigh.

"More like craziest women on Earth," the scientist mumbled to herself, returning to the kitchen in search of something sweet—preferably strawberries. Or maybe pickles. Or both. She opened the new refrigerator door and rummaged around, observing with annoyance that her husband and son had left her with little to satisfy her cravings. Deciding on a pudding cup, she shut the fridge and turned to get a spoon. Before she got to the drawer, however, her husband handed her one.

"Thanks," she replied with a grin, peeling the lid of the pudding away and digging in. "Where have you been?" she asked, eyeing the handsome Saiyan in his undeniably delicious spandex shorts.

"Training," Vegeta replied, noting his mate's gaze.

"I don't know why I even ask anymore," the scientist joked, swallowing her mouthful. "You just missed Chi-Chi."

"How…regrettable," the Saiyan muttered stiffly.

"Aw, she wanted to see you, too," Bulma continued to tease, leaning in closer, the spoon in her mouth becoming a seductive, demonstrative prop. "I'll fill ya in on all our girl talk if you…fill me in…on your training sesh, I mean," she purred.

"Your conversation with Kakarot's wench is of no concern to me," Vegeta replied, although his hand traveled to Bulma's hip, signifying that he was amenable to the rest of her suggestion. He pulled her against him, taking the spoon from her hand and tossing it aside. He then began to remove her shirt, eyes hungry for her even-better-than-usual chest. As he touched her, however, he felt it—that ever so annoying flutter of unease in the pit of his stomach. Bulma and Chi-Chi's conversation actually did concern him; he had listened to their entire exchange from the neighboring room. Was his fragile, human mate in some sort of potential danger? He cursed humans and their innate weakness as his mouth found its way down his wife's neck and breasts.