"Fucking A," she bit the flesh beside her thumb nail liberally with duress. Rocking back and forth on the toilet seat, she cracked her knuckles. The anxiety eating away at her sanity, she closed her eyes, wanting a cigarette so badly she might pass out. Waiting, looking at the clock she would not dare catch a glance at the "window." Everything could change, either way, everything would change. Well, most of everything would change. Cupping her head in her hands, she scratched her scalp. This hair would not do anymore, she was going to change it; cut it. He liked it long. Cut it very short. He liked curls, straighten it. His favorite color was blue, she would color it green. Who was to know it was her only way of openly defying the quandary, that asshole?

Oh Dende, looking at the clock. Tick, tick, tick, retrieving the box from the ground beside the toilet, tick, tick, she threw the cardboard at the offending menace. So long, three minutes was prolonged and almost as indefinite as their sexual tension. Fuck! Feeling nauseated again, she traded positions, seat up and head over the bowl. Shit! Her eyes watered. She would not cry, she had never cried in private before. Only in public, Bulma measured it kind of like an alcoholic in that when you drink publically you are not technically a wino and theoretically if you are not emotional in private you are not a fucking weak, masochistic, stupid, bitch, slut, whore…

Peering over her shoulder at the clock, her eyes widened. She could do this, alone. She did not cry, the burning of her eyes was temporary and the nausea ebbed due to the thrill of having her wish. Three minutes had dissipated, still her heart sank. Straightening herself from being hunched over the porcelain she spotted the offending stick. Quickly glancing at the thin folded paper, she catalogued the steps:

1.) Remove the test stick from the foil wrapper and take off the Overcap.

2.) Holding the test stick by the Thumb Grip with the Absorbent Tip pointing downward and the Result Window facing away from your body, place the Absorbent Tip in your urine stream for 5 seconds only. (You may also collect urine in a clean, dry cup and immerse the entire Absorbent Tip in the urine for 5 seconds only.)

3.) With the Absorbent Tip still pointing downward, replace the Overcap and lay the stick on a flat surface with the Result Window facing up. Replacement of the Overcap is not necessary for the proper functioning of the test.

4.) You may soon see a pink color moving across the Result Window to indicate the test is working.

NOT PREGNANTONE PINK LINE in the Result Window

Sighing, she pinched the curved sides hesitantly. Calming her nerves, she hadn't had a drink or any physical immoral indulgence since that night with Vibra. Moving her head to pop her neck and alleviate the stiffness, she opened her eyes reluctantly. The moment of truth and looking down she counted.

One…

Two.

No response, no reaction, not even shock.

"Mom, I am pregnant."

"Halleluiah, thank Dende! Oh, I have all the best places picked out for baby clothes and ooooooh, I know the sweetest palate for the room, by the way I already bought a cradle and— "

"What? A cradle, mom—"

"Oh and I have the best basinet, I bought it three weeks ago!"

Drowning in her latent happiness, Bulma covered her face with one hand and held her mother's hand with the other. A belated smile traversed her lips and she was glowing with satisfaction for her predicament. Thanking her mother without words for the support she had always given, Bulma inquired as to the whereabouts of these wonderful stores.

"Do you even care who the father is?"

Pushing air as a puff through her lips and flapping a hand in the air, "Vegeta will be wonderful, and the best part? He won't interfere with our customs of raising a child! The baby is all ours!" Bulma careened with laughter, "Does he know yet?"

Bulma's exuberant happiness waned with the query. Exhaling gently, "I do not plan on telling him."

Bunny smiled, "Your father did not know I was pregnant until the fifth month."

"Wow," Bulma smothered her own personal examination of the incident, "I was hoping this kind of stuff was not hereditary."

Seven weeks ago, the doctor told her seven weeks. That was about the time they had started the affair. Not to negatively connote the word affair, it was just a sexual relationship. All that was involved was feeding of the impulses, no reason to imagine beyond the day-to-day occurrence of copulation. She was not even scared, just relieved to know that she was, in fact, pregnant. Worse than that, she was eager or better worded, exuberant with excitement for the impending birth of her baby. Her baby, Bulma was having a baby.

"Dende, please don't let it be a girl…"

"Uh, harder, yes harder!"

He pounded into her, holding her leg up with his right arm, left arm ripping the sheets next to her head. She screamed in ecstasy as he growled with approval. Teeth gnashing, he watched the lean muscles of her back flex with every thrust, matching his enthusiasm for the brute force of the sex. Her head moved to the side giving him a profile view of her magnificent face. Releasing a more intense huff than of previous pumps, he was captivated by her eyes.

"My name, woman?"

She seethed with rage that only receded with the inflection of pushing his cock deeper inside her. Bulma grinned instead, loving the thrill of his torture, "I… I could n-not say." He snarled and bit her shoulder mercilessly. Throwing her head back, hands leaping to grasp her headboard she wailed intermixing the pleasure with the pain, "I-I can't say, ahhhh!"

She came bitterly, smiling with his teeth planted in her flesh, hands gripping the rails of wrought iron. He reached beneath her, one hand squeezing her breast as the other tweaked her nipple.

"Say it." Unable to breathe from the physical stimulation, she gasped inaudibly, "Say it!"

"Uh, I love you!"

Vibra poked Bulma's head repetitively until the female awoke to a damaged entertainment room.

"What the hell happened?"

Vibra shrugged, "I only came back this morning, you tell me?"

"Dende be damned."

Vegeta's aura radiated thorough the air, she felt him powering up. Knowing he was watching her she dashed to him, swinging her arms around his middle and squeezing. He ignored her actions until he felt her head softly laid her head in between his shoulders, her heat spread from that center throughout his body and pooled in his chest. His breathing became unlabored and his power seemed less a stress than natural. Kakarotto's secret?

She held on, waiting and holding back every impulse, she had never done this before and the anticipation was enough to destroy her being and in spite of it all she waited. Constricting her grip more tightly, he felt her embrace as more than a simple nuisance for either party. Her well-being or good health or fortune, her happiness and comfort, even her security, giving it up for that moment of pleasure… what to do?

Her head touching his back burned into his thoughts. His clenched fists loosened and his arms relaxed at his sides. Licking his top row of teeth under sealed lips, he removed his mind from that moment and blankly stared into the abyss of the universe. He had not been a prince since the day his planet was destroyed, merely a pirate seeking those treasures lost. In the process he had compromised his self-concept molding his own identity. Having plundered so many planets, living a torturous existence where each day was a mere worship of the flesh, how could he deny her?

"We have the world wrapped up inside a plastic box."

"What do you mean he left?" Vibra shrieked over the telephone, almost accusingly.

Bulma sighed, five weeks along and still feeling heart burn and now sore breasts on top of it, "No regrets that is the way we live."

Vibra clicked her tongue, "You are the strangest girl I have ever known!"

Twirling the cord with her index finger, Bulma pondered her eccentric mannerisms, "Is it really that I am aberrant or merely that everyone else is hiding?"

Chuckling, "You girl, need to write some of this shit down. Your hormones are making you a poet." Both women entertained themselves with further hilarity until Vibra raised the million dollar question, "Is he coming back?"

Bulma paused unsure of what to expect from the Saiyan, "I understand if in not coming back he doesn't want the drama and if he does I understand that he needs his victories. Either way, it is not about us, me, or the baby," she heard the sadness from Vibra's hitched breathing on the other line. "The point is that he let me keep the baby only because I am self-sufficient." Receding into her thoughts for a moment Bulma knew that Vegeta and she lived socially unstable lives; their morals have been abandoned alienating them from the typically acceptable lifestyle. In reality, she felt that the circumstances best suited everything she had ever wanted, her fight was just beginning.

Vibra nodded into the phone slightly dejected, "What is love anyway?"

Smiling, "A nice trick to distract people from their mortality," and thinking to herself she knew that in facing that truth she would find herself. "So, I have a terrible craving for a corndog, dumplings, and some mint chocolate chip ice cream."

"Wow."

Bulma grasped her throbbing head and looked at her surroundings, "What the hell happened?"

Vibra shrugged, "I only came back this morning, you tell me?"

The television had a floor lamp impaling it while the carpet beneath the electronics had been badly singed. Thinking to herself, Bulma pitied the plant that she remembered stamping her feet on the night before. The dirt from the potted shrubbery lined the floor leading from beside the couch to the entrance of the kitchen. Dende, she prayed she had not damaged too much in there along with her entertainment room. Standing unsteadily, the two women removed themselves to the kitchen.

"Do you remember, cause I don't even know how I made it home?"

"I called a cab."

Slapping her forehead, "Really, because I thought I might have walked across town in the middle of the night," Vibra sarcastically remarked. Shaking her head at Bulma, she changed her tone, "Seriously, what happened between you and your roommate, Vuh, hmmm, Vuh—"

"Vegeta."

"We have the world wrapped up inside a plastic box."

He ignored her comment, feeling the honesty in her voice. Grunting menacingly, Vegeta came back to himself and thrust the girl away from him. Powering up instantly, "To breathe is to judge, Woman." He flew out of the window that phrase being his only gift to an inebriated master of the universe. He knew her time would come when they could not deny their attraction any longer. He foresaw his folding to yet again to opulence, if not to satisfy his desire than to divert fate.

He would be back and he would fuck her mad.

In the kitchen, Bulma contemplated these wicked thoughts. Telling Vibra the series of events, the blonde female acknowledged the candor behind the actions, "He is going to fuck you out of your good judgment."

Bulma agreed, countering, "And he will never forget it." Bursting into merriment, their joviality came to a crashing halt as their heads hammered furiously. "No more blow or binge drinking for a long time after."

Vibra, though physically aggrieved discredited the assertion, "I cannot jump on that bandwagon; sobriety is such a bother." Her bottom lip jutted out sweetly.

Bulma had her mind set on the conclusion, "I think I am going to enjoy the torment of temperance."

Vibra again snorted, "Without a single touch, he has already started to fuck you out of your sense!"

"He is my foil and parallelism will do that to you," Vibra watched her tentatively, "kill you luridly."