A/N: Whoa look! There's a story here! … Oops.

DISCLAIMER: Please claim me.

They had been fucking for weeks now.

His room, her room, any empty room they both happened to come into a foot's radius of. Hardly amazing that seemed in relation to the fact that absolutely no one had any idea that it was occurring. It happened so frequently that Bulma had calculated that statistically speaking, Vegeta should have been caught with his pants down at least four times.

His pants were on now as he trained in the Gravity Room while she and her father admired their finished Gravity Room simulator. It had been finished at least a month ago, but the updates were laborious and had taken up any of Bulma's time not occupied by the Saiyan prince.

"This ought to be the last update dear," her father said, leaning against a steel workbench cluttered with various electronics. "Hard to believe I missed so much! Must be the age."

Or me, Bulma thought as she remembered how often her mind had been elsewhere while the two had been working together. It was a good thing her father only pretended to need her help sometimes.

"Well I think it's perfect now. I'll use whatever bots Vegeta ruins today to test it out," she said.

Dr. Brief gave her a tiny smile that she could barely see under his bushy moustache. "I bet Vegeta would be more than happy to help you out."

And just what was that supposed to mean?

Her father patted her on the back. "Don't think I haven't noticed the generous amount of time the two of you have been spending together lately."

Bulma fumbled for words but instead discovered that she had temporarily been rendered speechless.

"I'm so proud of you dear," he continued, folding his arms against his chest and tilting his head so that he looked directly into the ceiling lights. "If there's one thing that boy needs, it's a friend. I've always said it."

A great sigh of relief threatened to fall from Bulma's lips. "Yeah dad. I know."

Vegeta was wary. Besides the occasional rumble of thunder overhead, which undoubtedly threatened a rainstorm that night, absolutely nothing had interrupted him for the past week and a half. The holographic monitor the humans used for dual communication had been suspiciously absent. As for the humans themselves, Vegeta was also on guard. Though he was quite used to the spontaneity of the woman's visits, he was beginning to wish she would pester him more often while he trained. He was on edge, waiting for the inevitable.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

A reluctant smile impeded the frown he usually kept for the woman's incessant banging.

"What is it?" he called out to her.

"If you want to find out you have to let me in!" she shouted back.

With a reluctant press of the 'open' button, the steps descended, revealing an incredibly odd looking Bulma Brief.

"Quit staring," the woman said to him, stepping into the middle of the harshly lit Gravity Room.

The woman was wearing a large white Hazmat suit and large yellow gloves adorned her hands. The only part of her that remained uncovered was her face, which had been stripped of the plastic mask and black breathing apparatus hanging at her neckline.

"What is all of this?" Vegeta asked her gruffly, not quite understanding. "You look like a giant rabbit."

She reached into a pocket and pulled out a small capsule. "You know that new gravity simulation my dad and I have been working on for you?"

He shook his head impatiently to indicate that he had.

"Well," said the woman with a grin, "we were able to use these suits to prematurely test it ourselves! When worn properly the suit can withstand exceedingly high temperatures and withstand up to three times the earth's gravity!"

She paused.

"Isn't that exciting?"

Vegeta raised an eyebrow. "I like you better without the suit."

"Thanks a lot, Vegeta."

All of a sudden a loud boom ripped through the air. Bulma screamed and flung herself at Vegeta who had barely noticed the loud thunder in the first place.

He felt her temperature rise, warming his already hot body; it was very inconvenient. Looking down at her he noticed a faint red blush creeping over her panic-stricken face. Her gloves were clenched around the fabric of his shirt.

His jaw dropped.

"Don't look at me like that, alright?" she said with consternation, her voice barely above a whisper. "I-I don't like thunderstorms a-and…."

BOOM!

The woman gave a high pitched shriek and threw herself at him completely, dropping to her knees. Vegeta had no idea what it was he was supposed to do. He had never seen her behave in such a manner before.

"VEGETA MAKE IT STOP!"

In a mild state of shock, Vegeta managed to seal his mouth shut and bent down towards the cowering woman.

"You can't mean that you're afraid of a harmless-"

"-It is not harmless!" she shouted back, interrupting what he had hoped would be a calming bit of information, "It is a bolt of lightning that can carry up to one billion volts of electricity!"

He would have laughed had her fear not been so apparent to him. Rolling his eyes, he scooped her off of the ground and against his chest. "Relax, woman. I'll protect you."

She rolled her eyes back.

He snorted angrily at her obvious display of doubt. "How can you be afraid of the weather when you're a scientist? Surely you know how lightning works!"

"I'm an engineer," she corrected sharply, "not a meteorologist!"

She gripped his arm tightly when another roll of thunder made its round. Vegeta sighed deeply, narrowing his eyes.

"Control yourself woman. I'm going to need that arm."

Red-faced, the woman detached herself from him. An especially loud rumble sent her scampering across the room on all fours.

This time Vegeta could not help himself; he turned to her in a fury.

"Surely you've spent enough time on this accursed mudball to adapt to its elements!"

She couldn't answer him audibly. Her answers were coming from between her hands which were mashed to her face.

"I expected a lot more out of you," Vegeta said, crossing his arms and turning away from her. "You're nothing like a Saiyan."

His words had their desired effect. Turning back towards her, Vegeta could see that she had removed her hands from her face and was staring at him wide-eyed, but silent.

Those damned eyes!

"Put your helmet on woman," he snarled, seeing lightning flash across the sky. "We're going for a ride."

It had begun to rain now, and hard. Vegeta stood idly in front of the deserted Gravity Room as it washed over him, the water glistening off his skin in the starlight.

Walking haphazardly in her fucking Hazmat, Bulma stumbled towards him. She was absolutely not going to stand in the death storm while her Saiyan guest twiddled his thumbs.

"I already know what rain feels like Vegeta. I am going back inside!"

She started to leave him, the mud under her feet slowing her so that she was moving at an impatient waddle.

Vegeta abruptly reached out, seizing her before she could get very far. He held her like that, one hand clutching the back of her suit, while he lifted off of the earth.

"LET ME DOWN!" she screamed, her wildest fears certainly not assuaged while she was being delivered to them. "LET ME DOWN NOW OR I'LL WAKE THE ENTIRE NEIGHBORHOOD!"

Vegeta did not answer her.

This was it, she was going to die.

Her eyes, a dark green-violet in the reflection of the rain, were staring upward, praying. The ground below her was growing further and further away. The tops of trees and buildings bid her goodbye as she sailed past them.

She gave up trying to protest and went limp in his grasp.

"Good idea," he said.

At least she wasn't getting wet. Bulma looked up at the sky through her plastic mask. Fat raindrops shattered against it, blurring her vision. It was impossible to see where Vegeta was taking her.

After one or two minutes, Bulma began to notice that her breathing was much faster. Wherever Vegeta had decided to go, he hadn't taken into account her human response to high altitudes.

Too peeved to say anything at first, she hit him as hard as she could in the stomach.

Of course he didn't flinch. "We're here," he responded, stopping mid-flight.

Bulma wiped her mask with her gloves leaving a smear of water there that she could barely see through. She deduced from what little she could make out that the two of them were on some sort of cliff.

She turned towards Vegeta who had let her go and was standing alone near the cliff's edge, his chin pointing upwards.

"Hello?" Bulma barked at him with an edge to her tone. "What are we doing here? It's pouring rain you know!"

Vegeta turned towards her, smirking.

"You're going to face your fears."

It was useless of her to struggle against him. That of course, did not deter her.

"Hey buddy!" she was screaming, punching him as hard as her tiny fists could, "I'm not in the mood for this alright? I've got work in the morning now take me home!"

Vegeta ignored her and sat down on the largest stone amidst a pile of debris and rock. He placed a fist under his chin, propped up by his knee.

Making every effort not to trip he assumed, Bulma awkwardly found her way to where he sat, her face a mixture of horror and revulsion.

"Here," Vegeta said generously, gesturing towards a rock close to him. "Why don't you have a seat?"

Perhaps it was his cocky smile that gave him away.

"I am not joking Vegeta! I am going to jump off of this cliff if you don't take me home! It is thundering and lightning out here you idiot- AHHHH!"

A lightning bolt flickered menacingly from one cloud to another right in front of them. Given their current altitude, even Vegeta had to admit that it was imposing.

"You see! That's it Vegeta!" Bulma shouted at him through her protective gear. "I'm going over the edge right now! And I hope you thoroughly enjoyed last night because it is the last time you are going to have my company for a very long time!"

Vegeta watched with narrowed eyes as the scientist began walking backwards, clumsily, teetering dangerously near the muddy brink.

"Are you insane!" Hardly a question at all, really.

"This paltry display of lightning is scarcely impressive, considering the lightning storms we had on Vegetasai," he said to Bulma, knowing he would stop her lunacy with a rambling about his home planet.

She eyed him with what appeared to be derision. She looked over the edge. "You had lightning storms on Vegetasai?"

"For months at a time."

The woman looked awed. She finally chose to take the spot next to him. "That's amazing! Something like that could never happen here on Earth. Though come to think of it, it's not as though it's not lightning somewhere at just about every second. Those sorts of atmospheric pressures must have occurred in the same place for longer periods of time-mmmbrrg!"

Vegeta's hand pulled back her helmet and clamped over her mouth.

"Not everything is a science project, woman."

He slowly uncovered her mouth, tensing his ears for what he assumed would be an outburst of rage and offense at the water now streaming down her face.

The woman merely narrowed her eyes at him, not saying anything to him at all. It was a surprise, of course, but revered.

The two sat in silence for a few moments after that, the sky growing darker and darker as nightfall set in. Even the stars disappeared as the forbidding cumulonimbus clouds moved slowly across them. The rain showed no chance of letting up. Both of them were entirely soaked.

"This is nice," Bulma said quietly, leaning against his shoulder. "Even though I'll probably die of pneumonia."

He grunted.

"I mean it," she stated firmly. "I'm glad you brought me here. I like spending time with you, you know."

"Don't get too comfortable," he said with his nose wrinkled.

She settled in deeper. "You should be nice to be, Vegeta. I'm sure I'm going to catch something from sitting out here in the rain all night. It's not even that warm."

Sighing, nudged her off of him and stood up. With a roll of his eyes, he placed one hand on his hip and pointed another behind him. "Follow me woman if you wish to dry off."

He had hunted in this very area time and time before. No doubt the cave he planned to take her would be dry and without unwanted visitors. With a sardonic smirk, Vegeta remembered the two previous inhabitants who no longer resided there.

With her rubber latex hands roughly holding onto him as he led her into the inky black forest, he could not help but let her know his true intentions.

"You will be warm," he said, a dark twinkle in his eyes. "Take off that suit."

It was 4:03.

Bulma bit another fuchsia tinged nail and spit it across the kitchen counter.

She should not worry like this. She should really and truly not worry.

4:04.

She was going to have a mental breakdown very soon.

Sitting on a high barstool in the kitchen, Bulma had not moved very much since 3:51 that afternoon. She had been taking turns sitting in every room of the house to give herself something to do ever since 9:20 that morning that passed uneventfully. There were not so many rooms left to idly sit, unless she counted the Capsule Corp workrooms.

"This is seriously not happening to me," she moaned into her hands, banging her head on the counter so many times that after a few minutes she lost count.

It was too early to know of course, too early to make any sort of decision about any sort of choice she may or may not have in the matter. After all, this happened to women all of the time. Bulma Brief was no special exception simply because she happened to be extraordinarily rich or intelligent or beautiful or a friend to alien Saiyans.

"Impossible! I've taken it every single day at the same time every single time!"

Bulma wrapped her head around the possibilities. She did recognize that her anxiety and panic were not completely normal. A normal person might not jump at all the wrong conclusions simply because a few hours had passed with no sign of anything at all.

She was not a normal person.

Ever since she was twelve years old, Bulma Brief had gotten her period at exactly 9:20 or 8:20 (depending on daylight savings time). It was a very odd thing, she understood that, but it was her body and it was wonted. In fact, it was WANTED.

"Oh Kame, why me?" she groaned aloud, her head still on the table.

Would the changes happen soon? Would her breasts swell and ache? Would she vomit her throat raw? Would new, insatiable cravings for abominable food combinations control her life?

It was fruitless to take a home pregnancy test when she already knew that she was pregnant. She may as well just accept that it had happened to her. To Bulma Brief. To the smartest woman she knew.

She lifted her head from the countertop and blinked.

"Vegeta…"

If she was pregnant then he was the father. There could be no doubt about that.

Any reaction she had experienced in those six or so hours would not compare to the reaction she would receive when Vegeta found out. Bulma's head began to swim. Her heart froze along with the ice-cold blood that had stopped in her veins.

He would be livid, outraged, completely uncontrollable.

"Maybe he'll finally become a Super Saiyan," she mused absently.

And then her head was on fire. Her blood was boiling under her flesh as the realization that she was going to have to do this alone, because Vegeta would certainly leave her, became almost too much to bear. How could she raise a child on her own that looked so much like the father who would soon abandon them both?

In their short time together, Vegeta had become very tolerable, pleasant to be around actually. She had come to know him in a way that most people had not and would probably never know. Last night on the cliff, ignoring the spasms of lightning and heavy rain, had been one of the nicest nights with him so far.

It was too bad it was all going to shit.

Best not to be hasty though, right? A home pregnancy test was in order but it was stupid to take it now, when her period was only a few hours late. If it had not come by tomorrow morning then she was allowed to take it.

Bulma could hardly calm herself. How was she going to tell Vegeta? How would she break the news? How could she handle the news herself once it was confirmed? Could she do this alone?

Her hands instantly reached into her jeans pocket as she pulled out her cell. She pressed the number 3 for speed dial.

It rang five times before it connected.

She was silent for a moment. Finally, she spoke.

"I really need you right now."

"I really need you right now."

The words had been spoken nearly ten minutes ago but he still could not fathom their meaning. Bulma had sounded fragile, afraid … broken. After all of this time, what could she possible need from him?

"You don't have to do this."

Yamcha turned to Puar as he struggled to get his arm through a brown flight jacket.

"Yeah, I think I do."

"She hasn't been much of a friend Yamcha," Puar reminded him with her pudgy blue arms folded in front of her chest. Her position in the bedroom doorway seemed strategic; almost as though she were trying to stop him. "She's just going to hurt you."

Yamcha sighed and turned towards his best friend; his friend who had been there no matter what. "I know. As bad as you think it's going to be… I know it's going to be ten times worse."

He sighed.

"I guess curiosity is winning out on me. I'm going over there to see what I can do to help her. If Vegeta hurt her Puar…."

Puar sighed and moved out of his way. Tossing her a weary smile as he walked out of the door, Yamcha pressed the button on the remote to unlock his sports car.

Puar left him alone as he sat alone in the car, buckling his seatbelt, adjusting the mirrors, igniting the engine, steering away from his apartment complex.

When he reached the Capsule Corp. gates they were already open and he carefully maneuvered inside, memories of his last visit flooding his thoughts instantaneously. He cringed.

"This is it old boy," Yamcha said to himself, turning off the engine and stepping out onto the pavement. "Play it cool."

His feet felt heavier than ever as he walked towards the entrance. The large white door was imposing and ominous. What awaited him inside? It cracked open slightly.

"Yamcha? You… you came?"

Her voice surprised him as he had not expected her to notice his arrival so quickly. It was a little higher pitched than he was used to but it seemed to match the obvious agitation playing on her face.

"Of course I came B," Yamcha said, any anger or resentment he might have been feeling completely erased as he looked at her. "You said that you needed me."

"Oh! Of course I do!" she proclaimed, leaping from the doorway and into his outstretched arms. "I've really missed you Yamcha. You don't have any idea how much."

She smelled like white plum and honeysuckle, mixed with a little lavender, his favorite scents. He held her tightly against him before letting her feet touch the ground again, almost afraid he would scoop her into his arms again and never let her escape his grasp. How could he have walked away from this beguiling woman whose peacock blue eyes sent his heart into spasms?

He could remember if he didn't look at her quite so much.

"Vegeta," Yamcha said, backing away a little. "What did he do to you Bulma?"

His ex-girlfriend blinked a few times and shook her head. "No, Yamcha. It's a little different than that. Come inside, okay? And keep it down… mom is around here somewhere."

He followed her inside, puzzled. If it wasn't the alien prince that was bothering her, that had caused her to break her vow of silence for the past couple of months, then what in the world had happened to her?

She led him to the second floor bathroom and pressed the 'open door' button. The doors opened with a 'swish' and both entered the room. Bulma locked the door behind them and sat on the porcelain toilet. She gave a long quivery sigh.

Yamcha knelt in front of her, his nerves on overload. He reached out to grab a piece of her hair.

"You cut it again?" he asked in surprise remembering her slightly longer hair the last time they had seen each other.

"Yeah," she said softly. "I sort of went crazy I guess."

It fell just above her shoulders. It was soft and light in his hand. Yamcha could not have disagreed more. "It's beautiful," he said to her, his body responding from being in such close proximity with this woman again. What he wouldn't give for things to be the way they used to be.

She smiled at him, a tight-lipped smile that Yamcha could barely notice over his hormones.

"You don't know what this means to me that you came," said Bulma, putting a piece of hair behind her ear. "I thought you hated me."

"I could never hate you." The words came easily.

She gave a clipped laugh and shrugged. "Well you will after this."

For the first time Yamcha began to question why the two of them were in the bathroom. He had assumed it was because Bulma wanted absolute privacy. Now he was convinced, judging by the guilty look on her face, that she needed the room for what she would show him.

"What's going on B?" asked Yamcha, standing up and looking around. He had become overly suspicious. "Where's Vegeta? Is this a set-up?"

"Of course not!" she assured him, her voice trembling. "Vegeta's in the Gravity Room. He probably knows that you're here though."

His heart slowed a little. "Then what is this all about, Bulma? I'm gonna have a heat attack I swear."

Her face was the picture of shame. Her eyes looked so watery that Yamcha was certain she was going to cry.

"Oh no," he murmured, placing a rough hand on her cheek. "Don't cry, okay? Just tell me what's wrong so I can fix it for you."

"You can't fix this Yamcha," Bulma said to him, and her voice suddenly cracked. "I promise you that nothing can fix this!"

The gravity of her words hit him hard. What the hell had she done? Had she murdered someone? Had she stolen something? Was she going to die? That last question burned into his brain and he felt his knees wobble beneath him.

"L-look under the sink Yamcha," she instructed him. "There's a cup in the bottom cabinet with a stick in it. Don't' spill anything in the cup."

Baffled, Yamcha did as he was told. He held the yellow cup steadily in his hands so carefully even the white plastic stick did not move.

"Take the stick out and tell me what you see."

Again he followed directions. He stared at the stick, only beginning to realize what was going on.

"Bulma," he whispered, in a state of shock. "Bulma what the hell are you asking me to…"

"Tell me how many lines there are," she interrupted. "Tell me how many."

Yamcha looked at the stick in complete silence. His hands were shaking uncontrollably. It had never been so silent in the Briefs' home.

A full minute passed without a word from either one of them. Perhaps Bulma was letting him digest the news.

Finally, he looked up at her. She was blurry around the edges.

"Two."

Silence.

"I'm positive," Yamcha said before she could ask if he was sure. He placed the pregnancy test and the cup on the sink.

Bulma swallowed loudly. "Pregnant. I need to make a doctor's appointment to confirm it."

Yamcha sat on the floor. He stared at the cracks between the tiles, tracing patterns with his fingers. Bulma was going to have a baby. She was pregnant and she was going to have a baby.

It wasn't his.

The baby growing and developing inside of her at this very minute was not his. It could not be his.

She wasn't his either.

"Who's the father?"

His voice was deep, fuming. He could keep himself under control.

"I asked you who the father was!"

Bulma scrambled off of the toilet seat and onto the floor with him. She took his hands in his but he pulled away, already knowing the answer and hating her for it.

"Yamcha please… I need someone right now and…"

"Did he force you?"

Even as he asked her he knew what the answer was to that too. She had clearly gone along with whatever had happened between them; she had probably even initiated it. What was it to him anyway? Bulma didn't belong to him anymore. This was evidence of that.

His heart ached in his chest. How could she do this to him? How could she bring him here to crush him like this? Had it occurred to her that he might not be the person to share this with? They had shared dreams with one another, talked about children. Yamcha remembered bitterly that those talks usually ended with Bulma's declaration of eternal childlessness.

"What are you going to do?"

She didn't answer right away.

"I'm going to keep it."

So she wouldn't make plans to have a family with him, her boyfriend of years, the only man who could ever love her as much as she deserved to be loved. That would be ridiculous. That would be absurd. That would be illogical.

No, it made much more sense to keep his baby. To have his bastard spawn.

Yamcha recanted quickly. No, it wasn't the baby's fault. It was his fault for being around when she needed him; it was his fault she had used him like this.

The blurred edges of his vision spanned farther than before. It was getting even more difficult to see. He stood up quickly, zipped his jacket up to his chin.

"Glad to be of service to you but I gotta go," Yamcha said curtly, exiting the bathroom.

"Yamcha wait!"

Her cries for his return hurt him too. He wanted nothing more than to turn around and forgive her for what she had put him through, but he couldn't do that. Puar's warnings flashed through his head rapidly. Yamcha should not be here.

She had hurt him more than even he had imagined she could.

"Please Yamcha!" she called behind him, her voice sounding muffled. "I know I have no right to ask you for anything! I know that! But I don't have anyone else!"

That was the last straw. Yamcha swung around, almost knocking her down.

"You are the most selfish person on the face of this planet, Bulma! Do you understand that? You left me behind while you moved on with that… with that thing and you expect me to be here at your beck and call? Are you so self-obsessed and spoiled that you think you can treat me however you want?"

Her face had gone white in his outburst.

"You brought me here after months of ignoring my attempts to call you! I shouldn't have come but I did. I came because I thought my friend needed me! Instead you make me find out you're having some other guy's baby!"

"Yamcha, I-"

"What Bulma?" he screamed at her, losing control. "WHAT DO YOU WANT?"

She collapsed in tears in front of him, her sobs echoing through the hallway.

"You're r-right," she said through her crying. "Just leave me alone!"

"Since when has anyone else ever been right?" Yamcha asked sarcastically, for once not caring that she was crying in front of him.

"I can do this alone, alright? I don't n-need anyone," she said, wiping her eyes and sniffing. "I've made it through much worse. I-I'm happy."

She sure didn't appear to be. Her eyes were puffy and red and she was curled in a ball on the floor. Yamcha sat her up roughly.

"Happy?"

"I'm sorry about all of this Yamcha," Bulma said to him and the look in her eyes was so sincere that he believed her at once. "I am spoiled. I didn't know what else to do. Everyone is busy a-and you've always been around…."

More tears flittered down her cheeks but Yamcha could tell she was gaining a little more control of herself. Her display of strength made him feel a little bit better too. His eyes dried.

"You don't have to be here," she said as she grabbed her hair in her hands and trembled. "I really can do this alone."

"What about Vegeta?" Yamcha asked her, his voice darkening on the prince's name. No matter what he thought of Bulma, he would always hate Vegeta.

"What about him?" Bulma asked in return. She sighed loudly as though she had lost hope entirely. "He's been really nice to me… different even. But I don't know how to tell him this. I really don't know what he's going to do and it's… it's scary Yamcha."

"I'll tell you what he's going to do," Yamcha told her forcefully. "He's going to leave you. He's too arrogant to let some Earth woman have the heir to his throne while he's around."

"WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT?"

Yamcha backed away from Bulma, who was now so angry that he was having flashbacks of his life.

"B-Bulma?"

"Maybe it won't be like that! Maybe he'll… maybe he'll want to be there!"

But Yamcha could tell she was absolutely not sure.

He sighed and pulled her into his arms. Her tears soaked through his jacket. He hugged her like that for a long time. Bulma was right. No matter what had happened between them, they were always going to be there for one another. Or at least he was going to be there for her.

Yamcha managed to merely roll his eyes. Would he always love her like this? For the rest of his life would he feel like he was her guardian and savior?

"You're having a baby, B," Yamcha said with whatever happiness he could muster. "It's supposed to be a happy occasion. Congratulations!"

There was a gasp in the hall where they stood. Both Bulma and Yamcha turned around to see Bunny in a pink and green apron carrying a tray of cookies. It crashed to the floor. A chocolate chip cookie rolled to a stop at Yamcha's sneaker.

"Bulma, dear! You're having a baby! How wonderful!"

Bulma's face drained of color.

Vegeta could not afford a rest. His quest to become a Super Saiyan had been halted too many times to count. How could he expect to become the legendary when his enemies stood so far from his own progress? Kakarot had already surpassed him long ago. The boy who had warned them of the Androids had surpassed him as well.

Was everyone going to surpass him?

The rage burst out of him in an impressive show of power. A yellow aurora of energy and light surrounded his bulging, glowing form as he continued to power up.

"AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!"

Another forty-five minutes had passed exactly.

"Increase gravity simulation: 600 times planet's normal gravity. Warning: simulation has increased by 50 times planet's normal gravity."

It was more difficult to power up now, but Vegeta did not stop. He could not get stronger if he did not push himself.

"Come… on weakling!" he grunted to himself, his muscles expanding and tightening in the upsurge in gravity.

The pain was excruciating but he could not stop.

"Just a little… bit… further!"

He shot a large ball of light from his left palm and it went into a harsh orbit, threatening to crash into him at any moment.

He leapt over it once and landed agilely on his left foot. It came again and he performed a perfectly executed back flip onto one finger.

For the next fifteen minutes Vegeta was lost in a world of fiery bliss, one he was no stranger to.

The blast came quickly. He ducked, narrowly avoiding it. It was getting easier to escape it now that he was accustomed to the higher gravity setting.

There was a very loud knock at the door. He could sense it was the woman.

Irritation.

"Vegeta! I need to talk to you. It's really important!" she yelled loud enough for him to hear.

"LATER!" he shouted back.

He paused as he leapt over the ball of energy.

"Unless you've brought me something!"

"Oh, I have!"

Sweating profusely, Vegeta managed to leap over the blast again without fail.

"WHAT IS IT?"

There was no answer for a few seconds. Impatiently, Vegeta continued his training regiment. There was no chance she was getting inside, no matter how curious she intended to make him.

And even over the gravity simulation and his own sounds as he moved back and forth in the chamber, Vegeta could still hear what she shouted at him next.

"Your baby!"

The beam of hot energy pummeled into him as a stunned Vegeta plummeted to the floor.

A/N: So I realize that I kept a lot of people waiting for this one and I do apologize. I've never been quite so stuck with writer's block before. I'm not sure how many can relate, but hitting a crucial part in the story makes my head hurt. I made this chapter extra long to make up for the delay. Look for the next one within the next few days.