It's finally happening, Bulma is going to tell Vegeta :) With all the major Vegebul / Bra fluff going on lately I was breaking my own heart writing asshole Veggie in this chapter. But to counter-balance all that i wrote two sweet one-shots you can check out if you feel like you need some more positive Vegeta/Bulma moments. Anyway, hope you enjoy this. please feel free to review! xo
The small green light on the ship's main console blinked in a fashion that was almost hypnotic, all the while indicating an incoming call and Vegeta's stomach suddenly knotted in a strange sense of foreboding.
Weeks had past without the blue haired witch trying to contact him, after some time had passed he had assured himself that nothing had happened. He just had a sick and twisted brush with faith but he got away uncharged. No price attached to his foolish carnal actions back on earth.
He would be able to continue on the path destiny had chosen for him. He would achieve the status of the Legendary, return to earth to show his superiority in strength and breeding by squashing the tin cans and finally, by the gods, finally kill that 3rd class clown. Then he would leave to pick up where Frieza had left off. He would rule the Universe, beings from all solar-systems would have to recognize the last Prince of the Saiyans for all he represented. Strength, Tactic, Superiority.
A true warrior from the only true race of warriors that ever existed in this dark pathetic hole of the Universe.
But now he was being hailed and Vegeta felt the ground being pulled out from underneath him. This could not be it. It had been weeks, month even! Briefly he considered to simply ignore the hail, surely the woman would get the message that he wished to be left alone, but a small voice in his head whispered that it would make him a coward. A coward hiding from the truth, trying to escape the consequences of his actions, running like a scared child for cover. And Vegeta was no coward, surely whatever the female had to tell him could not compare to the many punishments he had endured under Frieza.
With that thought in mind, he pressed the button to accept the call. The Video screen flickered for a second before showing Bulma in her Lab. She was surrounded by darkness, indicating that it was likely late at night, only her face was illuminated by a soft glowing source of light. Likely the small lamp on her laboratory table. Vegeta cringed at the realization that he had become so familiar with her place of work, familiar enough to memorize it and immediately call upon it the moment he laid eyes on her for the first time in months.
Her eyes looked impossibly large and bright on the big screen inside his ship and he noticed the faint smile of relief, that he had accepted the call, tucking at the corner of her lips.
"I don't mean to interrupt your time for long, I know you want to get back to training" she stated with a soft tone, giving him another small smile of- understanding? Placating? He was confused, he had expected anger, if not for the condition he was likely to be informed of, then for the fight that had taken place before he had departed. But the Woman seemed to have forgotten all about it, at least she was acting like it. He narrowed his eyes in suspicion trying to think of any ulterior motives she might have.
"But there is something we need to talk about. You have a right to know, and i wanted you to be the first. Regardless of how we left things" her voice brought him back from his train of thought and he simply gave small stern nod for her to continue.
He did not trust his mouth to form words, his stomach was knotted with an ill sense of foreboding, this was it. Whatever the woman had to tell him would either ruin his life or be utterly pathetic and not worth the fuss she was likely about to make.
"I know we agreed on keeping things between us our little secret but that is going to get difficult, because I am pregnant" she stated with confidence.
Her head was held high, shoulders pulled back with her chin sticking out higher than necessary, the picture of an independent woman. Vegeta felt his stomach drop, fighting desperately to keep his stoic mask in place but unable to repress the sudden urge to swallow. He was clearly being punished, the Universe was playing some cruel joke on him. He had just attained his freedom from Frieza, had suffered the loss of being robbed the opportunity to slay him, not once but twice. And now he had fathered a half-breed child, just like Kakarot.
He almost snorted at the revelation, a half-breed, like he was some third class idiot that had disgraced his people and spit on his Saiyan heritage by allowing Frieza to survive. Showing him mercy. What a pathetic simpleton. And now he was like him, having fallen for the tricks of a weak earthling female. Worse, his brain suddenly reeled, Kakarot had at least achieved the transformation of the Legendary while he was once again reduced to being second. He should have-
"Are you going to say something?"
Bulma's snappy voice ripped him from his train of thought for a second time since he had accepted her call. Exhaling heavily through his nose in an attempt to shake the unwelcome feeling in his stomach he direct his focus back to the woman on screen. Her eyebrows were furrowed and she looked thoroughly displeased, clearly silence was not the kind of reaction she had expected from him. Then again what did she expect from him? Anger started boiling inside of him as soon as the question popped into his head. If she thought he was going to be tied down by a simple mistake she was wrong. He was a free man. Finally. A free man. He was not going to sacrifice his new found freedom to play house with a female whose head was filled with ridiculous expectations and sentiments.
"I'm a free man" his rough voice echoed his inward thoughts.
Bulma regarded him with confusion for a moment, seemingly pondering the meaning of his statement.
"I'm a free woman" she finally countered.
Now it was Vegeta's turn to be confused, did the woman did not understand? How could she be so dense? He had just told her that he was a free man, that he did not care about the happenings of her life. Squeezing the bridge of his nose Vegeta exhaled slowly, counting to 10, trying to reign his every shortening temper and patience. All he wanted was to be left alone. To train. To ascend. To achieve his destiny. To forget about the way she had moaned underneath him. Wait, what? Where had that come from?!
"What do you want woman?"
"I am pregnant with your child! And I wanted to let you know, asshole!"
Apparently he was not the only one with a short temper. Did she really think that nice words and sweet tones would have send him running back to her?
"You did. But for some reason you have not ended the call. So, I ask again, what do you want?"
"A reaction you big stupid monkey!" she suddenly seethed.
Her eyes growing impossibly wild with the fire of anger burning inside them and he was reminded of why he had been initially attracted to her. Bracing her forearms on the desk to lean closer to the display she regarded him with a stormy gaze, clearly his declaration that he was a free man had not been understood. Humans were so dense. You had to spell everything out.
"I don't care. I fought year for my freedom and my destiny. I will not play house with a weakling like you and some half-breed mongrel simply because your species appears entirely to stupid to have conception preventing medications"
The silence that followed his statement was deafening. The woman's eyes were downcast, her brows furrowed in what appeared to be contemplative thought. She had no right to be mad. She had made him spell it out. He had tried to be nice. As he grew uncomfortable in the silence, he contemplated ending the call, not interested in her next move, and almost feeling an odd sense of disappointment at her uncommunicativeness. He had expected an outburst. Screaming, screeching, insulting, lab equipment being thrown. Just when he finally extended his hand to press the button to cut off transmission when her lowered head snapped up. Blue eyes finding his black ones and piercing them from halfway across the galaxy.
"So, your problem is me not being Saiyan? Me not having and Ki or being bizarrely strong? Hence ruining your bloodline because I am a weakling and you are what?! A prince? Stronger than me?!" her voice was rising the the longer she talked, hands wildly gesturing along with her angry words. "I don't recall you having a problem with my lack of strength, or my major being human flaw when we did it! Matter of fact I seem to recall you getting off a whole lot!"
His blood was boiling at this point, who did this vulgar female think she was? Nobody talked to him like that! She was downright screaming at him now and he half expected her dim witted mother to appear on the screen and minute, trying to investigate what the commotion Bulma was causing was all about.
"After all that, you better never blame this child, my child, for something both of us are solely responsible for"
At this point she was trying to catch her breath, having obviously spend a great amount of her pathetically small energy during the duration of her wild rant. As usual, she had worked herself into a frenzy and Vegeta had simply decided to let it blow over. There was nothing this blue haired witch could say to change his mind. The gods were surly laughing at the cruel joke their were playing on him.
He was painfully aware of his own shortcomings and the mistakes that had conspired from them. His newest being the unborn disgrace to the Saiyan throne. He was the last Prince of the Saiyans, his people, their traditions, their language, their beliefs, it would all die with him. He would carry them to hell with him while time in this unforgiving dark Universe would march on without any evidence that this race had truly ever existed. Conquered. Lived.
His hands balled into painfully tight fists, he was fighting the urge to destroy something, punch a hole through a wall. Purge a planet, erase a civilization, anything to satiate the ugly black mass festering inside him. Wanting to break free. To rage. To ravage. To hurt.
One short glance at the navigation console told him that he was 35 minutes from a suitable target that could crumble under his rage. Mind made up, his dark eyes fixed on the ranting woman on screen. Tears of angers streaming down her face. When had she started to cry?!
"Will you just SHUT UP!" he roared, his inner beast beating against its cage wanting to be free. This was simply not happening to him. "You told me what you intended to tell me. I have nothing to say to you, I already told you, you mean nothing."
With that he cut the transmission. Extinguishing the soft glow of the video screen and with barely controlled rage setting his new course. He told himself he needed no one. He never had. He never would. And the sudden constricting feeling akin to loneliness that had befallen him when he had cut the connection would dissipate with the carnage he was about to bestow upon the next world of unsuspecting weaklings.
It always did. Experience had taught him that there was nothing a bath in the blood and terror of others could not cure. The thrill of the hunt and pumping of adrenaline could cook out emotions and problems like immense heat could evaporate everything. He was the Prince of all Saiyans and nothing would hold him back.