A/N: It's been a long time, I shouldn't have left you… without a dope story to review. In case anyone's interested, I've gone to the trouble of editing all of the previous chapters to make them more readable. There are tons of page breaks to indicate when the character voice changes, etc. Anyway- thanks for reading! I've really missed you guys!
DISCLAIMER: Not gonna happen today.
The Saiyan prince remained still as the woman groggily exited the bed, flung open the bedroom door, and disappeared into the dark hallway. He heard the bathroom door slide open and the splash of vomit into the toilet bowl water.
It was a nightly routine that absolutely revolted Vegeta, but what could he do about it? At least she never tried to initiate conversation with him afterward so he could pretend to sleep as long as he wanted. To be frank, her sickness didn't bother him; Vegeta had dealt with far worse than throw-up where he was from. However, he was still not completely sure how to handle her condition. Typically he stayed awake until she fell back asleep. He didn't know what else to do.
The bedroom door cracked and the woman padded lightly over to the enormous bed the two shared almost every night now. Slipping under the covers, sweaty, she gave an exhausted sounding sigh.
"Vegeta, are you awake?"
He didn't move.
Sighing again, the woman inched closer to his body and closed her eyes. Moments later, her breathing turned deep and steady. She had fallen asleep.
Vegeta copied her for a few seconds more and then very slowly opened one eye.
A pair of blue eyes stared back at him.
"Fuck," he reprimanded himself aloud, opening both eyes and staring at the ceiling guiltily.
She lifted her face from her pillow and stared at Vegeta with an arched brow.
"You are not that much of a dick."
Oh, but he was. Vegeta rolled his eyes and turned over, not awake enough for an argument. Unfortunately for him, she was.
"Every night I'm puking my guts out and you just lay there pretending to be asleep!"
Vegeta couldn't deny this.
"Do I even need to bring up that this is your fault?" the woman cried, sounding indignant. "Would it kill you to hold my hair while I'm carrying your child?"
Vegeta grunted. "I'm not aware of your earth customs woman. What does that mean, hold your hair? Why would I do that? I won't walk around grabbing onto your head at your leisure."
Her look was incredulous. "Oh Kame, you're fucking kidding me."
It was at least silent now. The woman buried her face in her pillow and began saying words that Vegeta couldn't quite hear. He figured that was for his benefit.
"Just forget it," she finally said, pushing the blankets off and sitting up. "I'm going to get a drink from the kitchen. Do you want anything?"
He didn't answer and she didn't return.
The blond woman on the screen flashed a pretty smile and raised her hands high in the air.
"Come on girls! You can do it! Reach for the sky!"
Bulma was having a hard time keeping up with exercise because of how nauseous she felt but she was around a group of people she preferred had no idea how she was feeling.
"Come on, Bulma! Stop being lazy! Shake what your mama gave you!"
Bulma growled but refused to acknowledge the old man. It was a trick she had learned in dealing with Master Roshi.
"Are you feeling alright?" asked Krillin, panting as he jogged in place.
Bulma nodded, out of breath. The trim girl on the television was absolutely putting her through the wringer. It was just that every time she thought of having a baby, Bulma began to panic.
"And rest!" cried the trainer and a moment later the screen displayed several women laying on their exercise mats, looking awfully unworked and chipper.
Bulma and Krillin had been at this exercise for several hours in the small living room of the Kame House. They had even pushed back the coffee table for more room. Master Roshi sat with his feet propped up on the cushioned couch, tapping his cane to the beat of the exercise music. Even Turtle joined in the activity, shouting encouragement whenever it was appropriate.
"This is the most fun I've had all week!" Master Roshi exclaimed as the cameraman went in for a close up on the host's upper body.
"Oh, can it old man!" Bulma said disdainfully, rolling her eyes. "Those girls are a third your age."
"You mean a sixteenth his age," Krillin corrected, rubbing his calves.
A long cane whacked Krillin on his bald head.
"I'd ask why you aren't training with Goku, but I guess that's a rhetorical question at this point," Master Roshi said. "Bulma's more your speed I guess."
Bulma put her hand over Krillin's opened mouth, sick of the arguing between the two. It really could go on forever. What with her constant arguing with Vegeta looming over her, she couldn't take it anymore.
"I think I need a break," she said, plopping down in the middle of the carpet and swallowing a wave of nausea. "I haven't worked out in so long it's ridiculous."
"Well you can't tell," said Krillin, "You're as skinny as you've always been. You've got some great genes."
"I'll say she does," Master Roshi cut in. "Bulma, how's that mother of yours, eh? Still hot as a skillet?"
Bulma opened her mouth to respond but Krillin interrupted.
"Do you feel that?" he asked, narrowing his eyes. "What's he doing here?"
Master Roshi stood next to Krillin, frowning. "Let's find out, huh?"
Bulma followed them out of the door, the sound of the ocean waves beating upon the sand making her queasier by the minute. She almost asked her friends who they were waiting for when she saw him herself.
Vegeta lowered to the ground, his boots sinking slightly in the sand. He didn't look at either man as he directed his gaze at Bulma.
"And just where have you been?"
"Well gee Vegeta, I have no idea." Bulma turned to the others. "Hey Krillin, just where have I been all this time?"
Vegeta curled his upper lip but he had no time to provide a snarky quip, because just then Bulma's insides decided to display themselves all over his boots.
"Aagh!" he shouted and leapt back so fast that he nearly fell over to avoid the vomit.
Bulma felt another wave of nausea and puked once more, this time on the sand. She squeezed her cramping stomach as the feeling began to creep its way back into her throat once again. But something was different. Her neck felt lighter, as if some weight had been lifted off of it.
She realized as she began to puke again, that Vegeta was actually holding her hair. She would have thanked him had she not felt as though she were going to die.
"What's going on with her, Vegeta?" came Krillin's accusing voice from across the beach. "Why's she so sick all of a sudden?"
"She's not well you moron," Vegeta answered. "Now shut up and grab me a towel."
Krillin walked away, reminding Vegeta on his way out that he was only doing so to help Bulma, whose condition he would personally reporting to Goku.
"I-I'm alright now," Bulma stated, out of breath. "Really, I'm okay now."
Her mouth tasted sour, but the nausea really had dissipated. Krillin returned with a towel and she thanked him, wiping her mouth and holding herself up as best she could. Unfortunately the act of throwing up had depleted her energy. She stumbled backward into Vegeta, who steadied her by grabbing onto her arm.
"I'm taking you home, woman," he said gruffly, lifting her a few feet off of the ground.
She didn't argue.
Vegeta sat stiffly on the couch, one hand on the woman's neck, the other on her back as she lay face down on his lap. He was sending warm pulses of energy through her in a last ditch effort to end her torturous whining. The woman constantly complained of aching neck and back muscles.
"Oh, this feels so good," she moaned, "I don't even want to know how you got so good at this."
Curse his guilt! Had the woman not made such a big deal about keeping vomit out of her hair, he'd be in the gravity room doing something useful.
He grunted and stared straight ahead.
"I can't wait until this is all over with," she said then, shifting so that she was facing him. "I mean, I don't necessarily want to go through the whole birth process, but I'm really excited to see who the baby looks like."
Vegeta snorted. "As if there will be any doubt."
"I'm serious, Vegeta," the woman said. "Aren't you just the teensiest bit curious?"
"No."
She rolled her eyes. "I hope it's a girl. If it's a boy I'm afraid it's going to be a first class jerk."
Vegeta looked at her from the corner of his eyes. "That needn't be your first concern. Believe me, woman."
She looked up at him. "What exactly is that supposed to mean? I don't plan on raising a Vegeta Jr., so let's get that straight right away buddy."
He arched an eyebrow. "If the child is truly half-Saiyan, there will be nothing you can do about its temperament. For this reason, its gender is of no concern to me."
She swatted his hands off of her and sat straight up until both he and the woman were eye-to-eye. "Gohan happens to be the sweetest, most gentle child that I have ever known and-"
"-and has a love for fighting that I, having been on the defensive end of one of his attacks, believe is even greater than I or Kakarot's," interrupted Vegeta matter-of-factly.
"You think it might have something to do with being half-human?" asked the woman as she peered down at her stomach. "Humans are weak by Saiyan standards but…"
"Modern earthlings demonstrate a remarkable resistance to domination and seek power at greater lengths than I am accustomed. On my home planet, we Saiyans accepted our statuses without complaint. Our primal motivation lay in fighting." Vegeta paused. "It is my belief that halflings possess traits which are to be envied by both species."
"Not to mention that they end up a lot more emotional," the woman said with a smile. "We could use more Saiyans like that around here."
"Kakarot is plenty emotional for us all," Vegeta said, his left eye involuntarily twitching.
Laughing, the woman lay back down, using his lap like she used a mattress. The television show she began to watch was so boring that Vegeta actually began to drift off, his surroundings becoming blurred. His eyelids heavy with sleep, the prince closed his eyes and began to lose himself in reds and oranges. His breathing became long and even, his hands relaxed. He thought he might feel the woman's eyelashes on his cheek as she slowly pecked his lips and rested her head on his shoulder.
Just the two of them now, nothing else existed except the quiet sounds of the television and the ceiling fan overhead.
An odd sensation struck Vegeta, as if he was being watched, and he woke up and looked around.
"What's the matter?" the woman asked, following his gaze around the room.
He didn't answer. Because he could not immediately determine what was emitting the diminutive ki he could feel, Vegeta sniffed the air. The old man and his wife were probably around somewhere, but he could not detect their presence. Besides, he was almost certain that they had gone for the afternoon.
"Come on you!" exclaimed the woman. "I know you can sense someone."
She put a hand to her mouth and grabbed onto his t-shirt. "Oh, no! Is there a burglar?"
"Shut up!" he answered, but he allowed her to hold onto him. "Who cares if it's a burglar anyway?"
Still, he was concerned. The ki was so slight that Vegeta wondered if he had imagined it; if it were the Androids though he should keep up his guard.
He looked directly at the blue haired woman whose eyes were large with anxiety and it dawned on him almost instantly. Sure enough, after a few seconds had passed, he could detect it once more.
"It's you," he said with disbelief. "Incredible."
She looked terrified. "Me? What? What's going on, Vegeta?"
"The baby," he answered in a quiet voice, amazed. "I can sense the child growing inside of you."
The woman leapt off of the couch and gave a shriek of exultance.
"Oh wow! Vegeta! This is… oh my! Yes!"
She began exploring her belly, lifting up her shirt and dancing around the room. Vegeta watched quietly; he was dizzy with the knowledge that he had fathered a child. He had been told many weeks ago, but it felt as if he were hearing it for the first time all over again.
She was having a baby.
It was his.
He was having a baby.
Vegeta clamped his jaw shut, unwilling to appease his sudden panic.