A/N: In case anyone cares, the car that Bulma drives in this chapter is a Toyota iQ and if you google it, you won't regret it.

DISCLAIMER: If I say 'google' do I have to do a disclaimer for that too?

Bunny whistled to herself as she folded the comforter over the clothes line outside. She had too many dryers to count and enough eager Capsule Corporation interns to do her laundry for the next one thousand years, but she just loved the smell of clean clothes.

"Da da da da da," she hummed, "da da da da da."

She snapped a clothes pin.

"I've wandered around, finally found, somebody who…."

True, she was usually in a good mood, but today she was in an even better mood than she usually was. She was going to be a grandmother and she had started working on blueprints for a nursery with some very handsome workmen.

"Could make me be true!" sang Bunny with her head tilted toward the hot sun.

"Whoa, could make me be blue!" said a deeper voice from behind her.

Bunny whipped around, startled but not embarrassed. She thought she had a lovely singing voice, thank you very much.

Her husband, the purple-haired scientist she had fallen in love with decades ago, wrapped his arms around her and gave her a lingering smooch. "Good afternoon, dear!"

"Hi there, stranger!" Bunny replied. She hadn't seen her husband all day and the night before she had fallen asleep before he had gotten into bed. "Did you finish what you were working on?"

She had no idea what her husband or daughter did in the lab and she wasn't all that interested. It just made her husband so happy to be asked about his work.

"Well," he began excitedly, "last night I finally got started on a time machine!"

Bunny dropped a handful of clothespins onto the grass and clapped her hands together excitedly. "You're kidding!"

"Of course I am!" her husband said with a furrowed brow. "I can't even replicate the one I've seen!"

"Well, what are you doing then?" she asked, annoyed at her husband's teasing.

"To be honest," he answered, stroking his moustache with a thoughtful expression, "I haven't been up to very much. I did realize that Bulma's going to need new things for the baby. I've started working on a very high tech crib that I think she'll fall in love with."

Bunny squinted in the bright sunlight. "Isn't it a bit too early to be thinking about a crib? I haven't broken ground on the nursery yet! Ooh! Let's just use that guestroom down the hall!"

Her husband seemed to be thinking about her idea, which made her happy. He hardly thought about her ideas because he was so busy with his own.

"You know, I think that's a splendid idea! And maybe we can put an extra bed with the nursery, for Bulma!"

The woman giggled. "Honey, Bulma and Vegeta share a room. That poor man will be left all alone if she sleeps with the baby instead! He'll be beside himself with worry!"

Dr. Brief sighed. "I'm not sure how much longer that's going to last," he said. "Vegeta's a loner. I can't help but think that their union will be short-lived. Besides, the two are just so darned different! Bulma's bright and outgoing… and Vegeta has the personality of a spoiled turnip."

Bunny was instantly exasperated. "Now look here!" she exclaimed, reaching down to pick up the clothes she had dropped earlier, "Bulma and Vegeta are absolutely perfect for each other! They'll last forever, you watch!"

The older man mumbled something that Bunny paid no attention to. It didn't matter if her silly husband refused to believe in love; she was going to believe enough for both of them. Her daughter and Vegeta weren't only perfect for one another; they were the exact same person! She put a pin in her mouth and began hanging a large sheet. Men!

They were so short-sighted, weren't they?

A gaggle of geese were slowly making their way across the front yard of Capsule Corp. Bulma Brief, on her way to the mall for a wonderful shopping excursion and a massage or two, hopped on her toes between them to avoid them.

She knew she looked like an idiot, and she could have chosen to go another route, but she was just in such a good mood! At four months pregnant, her morning sickness had finally slowed and the recent fatigue she had been experiencing seemed to have disappeared.

"Just where do you think you're going?"

Vegeta's gruff voice reached her from all the way across the lawn. He stood to her left with his arms folded in typical Saiyan prince stance, glowering.

"Shopping," Bulma answered with a smile, knowing that very soon there was going to be an argument, "and you can come if you want."

He curled his upper lip. "As if, woman. Now go inside. As I recall, you aren't supposed to be moving about in your condition."

Instantly the young woman became indignant. "I am pregnant Vegeta. Not sick. I appreciate your concern but if I want to go out there's nothing that you can do about it!"

Perhaps he agreed because, nudging a large goose with his foot, he walked closer to her and pointed a strong index finger into her face. "You're not to lift anything heavy. Understand?"

His concern was genuine and she could tell. It made her a little weak inside; Vegeta had been trying so hard lately. It was really sweet actually. She wasn't used to it yet.

"Uh-huh. By the way," Bulma added, remembering that it was already the afternoon, "If you get hungry, mom's been dying to get someone to try her new turkey casserole. And don't blow up the gravity room, alright?"

He rolled his eyes, turned and walked away.

Bulma watched him disappear around a corner and looked down at her feet. The geese had gathered under a tree a few yards away so she had a clear path to the road. As she began walking forward, she made a quick decision in her head and stopped in her tracks.

"Vegeta!" she shouted loudly, cupping her hands around her mouth. "Vegeta, do you want to come too?"

It was such a loud call that the peaceful geese all took off into the air. Bulma was pretty sure that the Saiyan prince had heard, so when he didn't answer she took his answer in the negative. Still, it didn't bother her too much. Vegeta had a lot to do. His exit from the gravity room a few moments ago had been the first all weeklong.

So fucking intense, thought Bulma, walking onto the pavement and looking around.

She tossed a capsule onto the pavement, exposing a tiny white two-seater. It was her 'me' car. No one, not even her parents, had gotten a ride in it before. Bulma hopped inside and started the ignition. She stepped on the gas with her sandaled feet as hard as she could; the brakes screeched on the pavement and she took off into the daylight.

Vegeta smashed his fist against the control panel and the simulation that had him at 400 times earth's gravity came to a grinding halt. He felt the pressure leave his body and the sweat flowing from his body slowed. He gasped for air.

"DAMN YOU VEGETA!" he shouted, sinking to his knees and watching blood from his brow drip onto the floor.

How long would it take? He was already older than Kakarot and that moron had turned Super Saiyan long ago! Now he was training his son; no doubt he was turning the boy into the same thing. Were they all laughing at him?

Vegeta wiped his forehead and filled his lungs with air. He was getting desperate now. No matter how long or how hard he trained, it seemed impossible for him to attain his destiny.

"STUPID DESTINY!"

It was getting harder and harder to concentrate. Perhaps he ought to eat. He ought to do anything to get the hell out of that blasted room. It was maddening, training with such a negative mentality about his short-comings. If only he could forget every conversation he had ever had with his imperious, stringent father. It was all he could do not to blast himself for being such a pathetic idiot.

Panting, Vegeta got to his feet and opened the gravity room doors. That woman had invited him out over an hour ago and he hardly expected her to be back already. An argument with her might make him forget about his so-called 'destiny' and whatever else was bothering him. He was incensed that she had left him alone but he did not know why.

Bright sunlight stung his eyes. He looked around, stomach growling. Despite his hunger, Vegeta had no desire to ask that giggling blond woman for food. What he really wanted was to take his mind off of his wounded pride.

He walked into the large half-sphere building and dragged his feet up the stairs and onto the second floor. By the time Vegeta had made it to the bathroom, he was naked. His clothes littered the hall behind him like the story about the gingerbread house and breadcrumbs.

The shower was never as calming as he expected it to be; the hot drops of water pouring down his flesh served only to drown the sounds of his environment. He was in his own head again; it was a place he did not want to be.

It wasn't something she was proud of, but when Bulma Brief went shopping, she went shopping. She spent so much money that she always felt as though she were keeping West City's economy afloat all on her own. It was a good thing she had thought to bring a few capsules to place all of her bags or she wouldn't be able to walk.

Bulma sighed and plopped down on a sofa in a tiny lounge in the middle of the mall. After being shoved around and deafened by hundreds of other busy shoppers, Bulma was in need of a rest. Not to mention that her back was beginning to hurt a lot and she had a feeling it had a little to do with the ten pounds she had recently put on.

"Bulma? Is that you?"

The woman looked sideways and gave a genuine smile when she saw that it was Yamcha. She waved him over and scooted sideways on the couch. "It's really cushiony," she added when he plopped down next to her.

He was looking better. His hair was nicely trimmed and he was freshly shaved. He wore a red cap that was tilted to the side and more importantly, he looked happy.

"How's baseball going?" Bulma asked, remembering that the two of them hadn't seen each other in several weeks ever since Yamcha had decided to start playing the sport again. He was really good too.

"Got a couple groupies," Yamcha answered, placing one hand behind his head and leaning back. "Every man's success is measured by the number of groupies they have."

Bulma raised an eyebrow. "Oh, really? And what if they're twelve? Does that count too?"

He flushed red; Bulma was well-aware that Yamcha's biggest fans were the girls from the middle school with the large baseball field where he played.

"You add the ages together," he retorted. He rolled his eyes. "So I guess there's no need to ask what you're doing here. Is there anything left for the rest of us?"

"I have literally been picking out baby clothes and putting them back and picking out baby clothes and blah, blah, blah for an eternity it seems like," she whined. "I mean… don't get me wrong. I love shopping for myself. But I can never decide on anything at all when it comes to the baby!"

Yamcha looked amused. "So you bought everything?"

She shook her head. "That's where you're wrong! I don't even know what sex the baby is yet. I've only been buying unisex onesies and whatnot. Whatever the baby is, I hope they like green and yellow."

He shook his head and stared at her. She stared at him back, feeling slightly awkward, given their history. Sometimes it was too easy to forget that this guy had been her everything.

Bulma stood up, grabbed Yamcha's hand and pulled him to his feet. "Come on. You've been appointed my new helper."

With Yamcha at her side, Bulma decided to hit a small furniture shop that sold diaper stations, changing tables, and cribs. Bulma could tell that Yamcha was having fun. In fact, he seemed to be having a lot more fun than she was.

"Hey B, look at this one!" he exclaimed, pointing at a bright pink changing table with smiley faces printed on the tiny mattress. He gave her what a dopey smile. "It looks like that ugly scarf you used to wear."

"Thanks," she said with a roll of her eyes. "I made that scarf myself you know."

He gave her a one-armed hug. "I remember. Knitting is your forte… much like cooking."

Bulma let him laugh, feeling a little like she should have left Yamcha to shop by himself. At the same time it was nice to have someone's company once in a while. She hadn't told anyone about her pregnancy besides her ex-boyfriend and parents. Also, both of her parents had been spending a lot of time with one another and Vegeta had been training day in and day out for the past few weeks. She was sort of lonely. Asking Vegeta to come with her to the mall had been more than a casual question. She had legitimately needed some company.

"What about this one?" she asked, pointing out a pink wooden station with a built in space mobile. She tapped a bright fingernail against the large crystal sun and sent it spinning. "That's pretty, isn't it?"

Yamcha looked repulsed. "I don't care if it's a boy or girl; no kid of mine would be caught dead in that thing."

The two fell silent. Bulma felt so incredibly uncomfortable after that sentence that she could not look Yamcha in the eye. It was a terribly long five seconds before she felt comfortable enough to speak.

"Yamcha, I-"

"-Bulma, I-"

They paused, each trying to apologize for the awkwardness and each unable to. Bulma smiled a little in an attempt to ease things over. "Let's get out of here and grab something to eat. I'm so hungry I feel like I could eat as much as Goku."

Yamcha grinned.

"Then let's go to an all-you-can-eat because that's a whole fucking lot."

They laughed and Yamcha looked very at ease, which made Bulma feel much better. He looked so relaxed in fact that Bulma was startled when his expression hardened.

"What's wrong, Yamcha?" she asked, grabbing onto his forearm. "Did you sense something?"

He growled. "Yeah, I sensed something alright."

Bulma whipped around and blinked to make sure that her eyesight hadn't failed her. Was she imagining this, or had Prince Vegeta of all Saiyans really stepped a royal foot in the middle of West City's most populous galleria?

"Vegeta?"

He raised one eyebrow in response, but the rest of his body remained unmoving. It was a funny sight really, the prince in all black in the middle of the baby furniture store, surrounded by bright green, yellow, blue and pink diaper stations.

"What's he doing here?" asked Yamcha from behind her, sounding accusatory.

Bulma glanced at him from the corner of her blue eyes and focused on the dark ones in front of her. "I don't know to tell the truth. I invited him a long time ago but I didn't think he'd actually show his face around here."

Yamcha made a sound in his throat. "Well three's a crowd. Guess I'll be getting out of here."

Bulma rolled her eyes. "Oh quit it, Yamcha. We're still going to lunch if you're hungry." She looked at Vegeta, still confused about his presence but willing to cooperate. "Did you want to come with us?"

Vegeta grunted. "Right."

"I mean it," Bulma said, and she really did too. She would have loved to spend time with Vegeta, especially since she saw him so rarely. "

He looked like he really might do it; she could see it in his normally expressionless eyes. But then Yamcha stepped forward and broke their eye contact.

"I forgot I have practice today," he said to her, sounding as though he had never successfully lied to a woman before. "Gotta go. See you later, okay?"

He waved quickly and began quickly walking toward the exit. Bulma shouting for him to wait did nothing except bother a few of the shoppers nearby who made faces at her outburst.

Angry at Vegeta for chasing her only friend away, Bulma stalked out of the store. She did not have to turn around to know that Vegeta had followed behind her.

"Thanks a lot!" she exclaimed, pushing past a group of skateboard wielding preteens.

Vegeta was in front of her so fast that she didn't see it coming. He glared at her.

"I didn't come to argue with you," he said darkly, "so if that's what you want then forget it."

"Well why are you here?" Bulma asked, lowering her voice when she realized that people were staring at her, probably wondering if she was the Bulma Brief. "You didn't exactly seem thrilled at my earlier invitation."

The heiress looked around at all the people milling about and shook her head in wonder. "And why would you? We're surrounded by humans."

Vegeta ignored her and glanced sideways. "What is this place, woman?"

"The mall."

He looked suspicious. "I thought you said you were going shopping. You haven't got any bags."

She patted a tiny, bumpy pocket on her jean shorts. "Capsule corporation to the rescue. Now, are you going to admit that you came to spy on me or what?"

Vegeta's eyes narrowed a bit. "Don't flatter yourself. I have no desire to spy on you."

"I don't believe you," she said. "You ran off Yamcha."

An actual smile played on Vegeta's lips but it went away as quickly as it came. "That doesn't concern me. I only came to make sure you're doing as I ordered."

Bulma leaned forward so that she was centimeters from his face. She felt warm inside knowing that he was lying to her face about why he had come. She couldn't let him know she had caught on however, or he'd never make an effort like this again.

"As you can see sir," she huffed, "I've done exactly as you asked. No heavy lifting. Just taking the baby for walks and all that jazz. So, if you have nothing else to do, how about walking me back to the car?"

She took his hand and began leading him toward a set of doors. Vegeta allowed himself to be pulled by her, but there was an obvious show of resistance.

"Do you really have to be so difficult?" she asked him as she walked. "I feel like you're my child or something."

He snorted. "If that child has my genetics, I doubt you'll be able to pull them from a store."

"Here we go," Bulma said as she walked through glass plate doors and sunlight hit her face. "Oh please, please tell me how I'm going to be a terrible mother to our unborn baby."

He released his hand as they approached her car. Bulma unlocked the car door and opened the driver door, leaning over the roof of the car with her chin in her hands.

"Let's have it all," she said impatiently, "Is there anything you'd like to add?"

Vegeta stood at the passenger side, his arms folded against his chest. "There are two things that you will need to understand, woman. Firstly, raising a Saiyan child is a difficult job, even for the most accomplished. You will be lucky to survive it. And secondly, what the fuck is that supposed to be?"

He was pointing at her tiny car and making an ugly face.

Bulma widened her eyes and bent further over the top of the car. "Are you kidding me? This is the cutest thing ever! And you better learn to like it because that's what we're going home in!"

Vegeta backed away. "It isn't fit for a man."

"Vegeta, really."

"I refuse."

"All this talk about making sure I'm okay and you won't even ride home with me to make sure I get home safe?" Bulma asked, batting her eyelashes.

Vegeta shrugged. "So be it. Encapsulate the car and I'll fly you back instead."

"In a few months I'll be so fat I won't be able to get behind the steering wheel of this thing so no," Bulma answered indignantly, "I'll drive home myself."

He paused, looked at the car and shook his head.

"Suit yourself," she told him, lowering herself into the car and fastening her seatbelt. "But it was a big deal, me asking you to get in with me and everything."

She looked out of the passenger window, expecting to see Vegeta, but he was nowhere to be found. He had already left.

A little disappointed, Bulma started the ignition and backed out of her parking space. A shadow quickly covered the sun and she looked into the rearview mirror. A smile slowly tinged her bright pink lips.

Vegeta was so far above her that she could barely make him out, but there he was nonetheless.

"Might as well make it worth his while."

The tiny white car was reckless, zipping past slower red and black dots, swerving across multiple lanes of traffic to get off highway ramps. Vegeta wondered if his presence had anything to do with the woman's boldness. Did all earthlings drive this dangerously? He was glad he had chosen to follow after her, if only to save other's lives if need be.

A cool breeze ruffled his hair. The higher he went in altitude, the colder he became until he was covered in goose bumps. He lazily emitted a warm energy around himself so that the change in temperature did not bother him. He lost sight of Bulma's car and tried to sense her. It was challenging given that the woman's power level was essentially negative.

He found her only when the familiar tingling sensation reached a readable intensity. Vegeta could hardly believe the human race had survived so long on its own. His child had already surpassed every earthling Vegeta had come into contact with, unless those earthlings happened to know Kakarot.

Thinking of Kakarot put Vegeta in a bad mood, so he began to think of food instead. He was rapidly growing hungry. There was casserole or something… it did not matter so long as there was something that had once been alive cooked inside of it.

He looked down and saw the white car pass a large truck.

What had she seen in that long-haired buffoon anyway?

Yamcha wasn't his equal in any recognizable way. On planet Vegeta, he would have been lucky to be a third class soldier. The idiot was hardly capable of holding his own in a fight. He was so weak and lazy that killing him had been a waste of time and effort. Not that Yamcha's lack of existence on earth had done anything except improve the planet.

It made no sense to him whatsoever. What wasn't he getting?

The highway ended and a short drive around a ramp led the woman to a long winding road. Here there were no cars at all and Vegeta became level with tree tops, moving only to miss running into the occasional building.

His mind should really be on more important things, like the androids.

"I'm losing it," he mumbled as a twinge of pain stung his temples.

Finally the woman's home loomed into view and he was able to lower himself so that he only hovered a few feet off of the ground. His stomach growled irritably.

"Vegeta, honey!"

He hadn't noticed the woman's mother sitting outside in a folding chair, sipping a bright pink drink.

He nodded in her direction but didn't say anything. He normally didn't say anything unless she was offering him something to eat, and she wasn't doing that yet.

A screech of tires and a set of squealing brakes later, the woman arrived in the driveway. She opened the car door and waved to her mother excitedly.

"I bet you can't wait to see what I've got for the baby!" she stated eagerly, emptying her pockets into her mother's hands.

One of the capsules exploded accidentally and Vegeta watched as the smoke cleared, displaying a set of pale yellow shirts that one could snap shut at the bottom. They were printed with various pictures of animals.

"Oh my goodness Bulma!" exclaimed the blonde, "These are absolutely adorable! Oh sweetheart I just can't wait to see the baby in these! That one is my favorite!"

It was covered in pink penguins wearing overalls. Vegeta felt his left eye twitch.

"Darling, what do you think of this?" the woman's mother had the nerve to ask, setting her drink down and standing up. She waved the penguin-patterned nightmare in his face.

This was more of a headache than training. He turned to face the blue-haired woman.

"How could you?" he asked in disbelief. "I demand that you show me everything you've bought!"

She placed her hands on her hips. "Quiet down, Vegeta. I'll show you the rest once we get inside!" She smiled at her mother. "Is there more of that lemonade left, mom?"

Her mother giggled. "Sorry dear, but you can't have any of this! Doctor's orders you know!" She clapped her hands together. "I'll go get you a nice water though! Sit tight!"

She disappeared inside and Bulma began to encapsulate her purchases.

Vegeta's other eye twitched.

"Didn't you hear me, woman? I want to see the rest of these monstrous bodysuits!"

"Chill out!" she yelled back. "If you don't like them, tough! I asked you to come along!"

It was true and he could hardly argue. Still, it just seemed so unfair. When he thought back to that time he had been forced to wear that ridiculous pink shirt and yellow trousers he was infuriated!

"No! I won't allow it!" he shouted. "I won't allow you to dress our son like a flower!"

"I'll dress my son however I want to, got it?" Bulma said as she pointed a finger in his face. "And… and…."

She clutched her stomach in her hands and fell silent.

"What is it?" Vegeta asked, alarmed at her sudden change in behavior. "Tell me!"

The woman looked up at him, her blue eyes wide. "You said… you said it was… our son…"

So she hadn't known it was a boy. He supposed her doctors hadn't told her as much. He wasn't sure how to react to her question. Gender had never really mattered to him.

"Can you tell?" she wanted to know. "Is it really a boy? Do you know?"

"Of course I know," Vegeta answered, feeling surly now that she had questioned his abilities. "It's a boy."

He expected her to yell at him about not letting her know sooner, but that didn't happen at all. Instead she took her mother's place near the front door and sat down. Her eyes were unfocused. He wasn't used to her not responding physically, so he knelt beside her.

Her eyes were watery.

"It's a boy," she said, the words quavering. "You gave me a little boy."

Vegeta didn't reply because he still didn't know what to do. Earthlings were so emotional all of the time. It was their biggest weakness in his opinion.

The front door opened and Bunny pranced out, holding a tall glass of water.

"Here you go!" she sang, leaning over to hand it to her daughter.

"It's a boy, mom," revealed the woman. "Vegeta said it's a boy!"

The blonde woman immediately put both hands over her mouth and dropped the glass she was carrying. It shattered into hundreds of pieces and water splashed over her front but it did not seem to worry her at all. She bent down and grabbed her daughter in her arms with a strength that Vegeta had never seen from her.

"Honey!" she exclaimed. "That's simply wonderful!"

Vegeta saw his one opportunity while the women embraced. Looking upward to avoid suspicion, he sent a pea-sized blast into the pile of animal printed clothes. They instantly disintegrated without anyone noticing.

There… now he could celebrate too.