Human Hospitality
by scoutergreen
Chapter 51
The Oddest Feeling
Curled up in underneath the thick, warm covers and body cradled by the luxurious mattress, Vegeta awoke to another morning of soft golden light slowly filling his room and glorious quiet. He yawned and flexed his toes, savouring the feeling of warm weight and total relaxation. The little black cat that usually hung out with the elder Briefs during the day had come to sleep at the end of his bed again, and Vegeta found, oddly enough, that he didn't mind having the animal around.
He yawned and sat up, stretched his arms, and swung his legs out of the bed. It was early enough that the humans hadn't woken up yet, and Vegeta planned to take advantage of it. He felt good and was ready to resume training. The argument he'd had with Bulma the night before had been so heated and nasty that Vegeta spent close to three hours in the simulator after it was over, pushing one hundred and ten times Earth's normal gravity. After those three hours, he'd stormed up to his bedroom, took a long soak in a very hot bath, and fell asleep within a minute of crawling into his bed.
Then the aching hit him. Almost every part of his body was still hurting and was still healing from his brutal accident. His skin had healed almost completely, and Vegeta had taken to applying anti-biotic creams and vitamin-infused lotions to limit the scarring, but his muscles and ligaments still weren't back to normal and he knew it would be a while before that happened. Although his fractured bones had appeared totally healed on x-rays, he still felt as though there were numerous weak spots in his skeleton.
Still, he made a point of training every single day. It angered Bulma, worried Bunny, left Dr. Briefs bemused, and whenever he encountered Yamcha they only exchanged mutual expressions of annoyance.
Once downstairs, he went straight to the kitchen to make coffee (he was capable of making a damn good cup of coffee by that point) and used the kitchen counter's edge as a makeshift barre to begin stretching his legs and warming up the muscles in his hips after the percolator was plugged in. He hated that he was still so stiff, so limited in his movements, and often in discomfort if not outright pain.
"Good morning, honey! Oh, you made coffee!" Mrs. Briefs entered the kitchen, hair pinned up and dressed in a full skirt and button-up shirt, already prepared for what certainly appeared to be a full day ahead. She fetched two mugs from the pantry and beamed at Vegeta when they made eye contact.
"Mm," Vegeta gradually lowered his right leg, red-faced over being caught doing something so awkward, "you're dressed up."
"I'm going to a charity brunch today, so it's just the perfect opportunity to dress up a bit, isn't it?"
Vegeta rolled his eyes and took a seat at the table.
"How are you feeling today? Your flexibility is impressive!"
He grunted and folded his arms across his chest.
"I know that feeling..." Mrs. Briefs prepared a mug of coffee the way her guest liked it, "I know that feeling very well. What are your plans?"
Vegeta's left brow rose and his lips tightened together for a brief moment. "What's it to you?" He took a small sip of hot coffee and kept his eyes locked on the woman's.
"Just wondering what sort of training schedule you've designed this time, Vegeta. You sure to work hard!"
"Not all of us can spend our mornings at charity events, now can we?"
"Well... you'd just have to find a cause you really feel connected to first," Mrs. Briefs replied immediately, her sweet smile never fading, "then you could see what the fund-raising events are all about!"
Oh my God, she doesn't even realize I was being sarcastic. Idiot!
"Like that would happen. Which cause do you support?"
"Today's event is for an organization that assists young people who are homeless, helping them find secure housing, employment, and education. If you had to find a "cause", what would it be, Vegeta?"
Although Vegeta couldn't explain to himself why he chose to actually mull over the woman's question, he spent a long minute thinking about it. Would he want to "fix" anything? Why should he help others? Why should he save or prevent something unfortunate or assist anybody? Life is hard, he told himself, it can be very long and very difficult, and the hardships begin early for most.
He suddenly recalled a terrifying moment: he was nine years old and had been sent to take part in a purge on a small planet with a small team of much older, powerful men, and the conditions had been brutal; hot and humid and terribly polluted, with air was so thick he could taste it. It made his healthy lungs ache. When a collection of locals to the planet congregated in a ruined city and managed to keep the soldiers at bay with sophisticated weaponry, the soldier in charge decided the best course of action was to simply pollute the only water source available to the small settlement after surrounding them.
The soldiers delegated the task of dumping decaying bodies into the shallow river to Vegeta, who gagged and vomited from the foul stench as he got to work. Some of the bodies were crawling with maggots, and after the work was over, he couldn't get the smell out of his clothes or off his skin.
With few supplies, the citizens who dared to drink the contaminated water soon grew ill and died, while the rest died from dehydration or opted to kill themselves. After three days of waiting, the last settlement on the planet was stormed and completely razed. Mission accomplished.
Vegeta left that mission as a different person. For him, it was a pivotal moment in his short, strange life, and he barely slept for weeks after reporting back to Frieza. Each time he shut his eyes, he saw a pair of milky, dead eyes staring up at him from a pool of putrid water. It took six months before the image started to fade away.
He made a false start before managing to give Mrs. Briefs her answer: "I don't think children should be used in combat operations."
He heard the woman's breath catch in her throat but kept staring at his mug of coffee.
"Oh, honey..."
He looked up and saw Mrs. Briefs with one hand to her mouth and her eyes wide with horror. After one more sip of coffee, Vegeta set his mug aside and left the room. He needed to get into the simulator before he started screaming.
Despite their loud, profanity-laden argument some six hours earlier, Bulma and Vegeta had opted to make up the best way: enthusiastic sex and time together without anybody else around to bother them. They'd gone to Vegeta's room after muttered comments about the clutter in Bulma's room threatened to spark another argument before they'd properly made up. They had the house to themselves and Vegeta took advantage of it- he really liked the way Bulma moaned and wanted to see if he could make her scream as well.
By that point in the relationship, they weren't always using condoms. They sometimes got a bit spontaneous and impulsive when it came to sex (a broom closet in the lab, or the roof on a starry evening) and neither of them made a point of carrying protection. Bulma did take a birth control pill, after all, and after receiving a clean bill of health, she decided that Vegeta really did have a clean bill of health.
"Damn, Vegeta! You're feeling generous tonight, aren't you? Can we take a breather?" Bulma had to push Vegeta's hands away from between her legs and lay back on his bed, sighing and giggling.
"I'm going to require a fresh change of sheets later," Vegeta rolled onto his side and dragged his fingertips up her abdomen, "you're obviously enjoying this..."
They went quiet and Bulma gently touched the newly-healed skin on his shoulders. "Do you kiss, Vegeta?"
"I suppose."
"Um... have you ever kissed somebody?"
"Yes," he sighed, "I have."
"Don't be so serious, now," Bulma kissed his cheek and forehead, "just kiss me..."
Without thinking he wrapped arm around her and their lips seemed to lock together for one electrifying second before they broke apart. Mind still and quiet, he kissed her again, and he felt an incredible hot rush surge up his belly and into his chest when he did.
Two weeks passed by uneventfully. Vegeta saw the doctor, who remarked on the fact that he continued to make incredible progress, but gently warned him to use caution as well. He and Bulma had their arguments, but also had their passionate moments too.
One evening, the family opted to eat dinner out on the patio and Vegeta joined them, savouring the grilled lamb and potato salad along not just one, but two large glasses of red wine. It was wonderfully warm and a gentle breeze kept the air moving. For whatever reason, he felt quite talkative and spoke at length, laughing at some of the jokes the other diners made and also cracking plenty of his own. Over a light dessert of pistachio ice cream and tiny glasses of a pungent, peppery liqueur, Vegeta sat back in his chair, wonderfully relaxed and at ease with everything around him. There was great food, beautiful and luxurious surroundings, pleasant weather, and having a gorgeous woman around only enhanced what was so good.
Feet propped up on the wooden railing and watching the sun sink behind the mountains, Vegeta slowly came to the realization that he was experiencing the oddest feeling: genuine contentment.
When the Saiyan came to recognize that he was experiencing something that may very well be happiness, he went to internally chastise himself for letting his guard down before another part of his mind suggested that it may not be a bad thing to enjoy living for a while.
That's one reason why you defected in the first place, after all. Just enjoy the moment and live in it. You never know when things will take another turn...
Pacing the tiled bathroom floor and puffing nervously on a cigarette, Bulma forced herself to stop at the sink long enough to look at the pregnancy test one more time.
One line, not pregnant... but two lines, pregnant, she thought, grimacing when she picked up the slim strip of plastic and confirmed yet again that there really were two lines, bright and obvious and inescapable.
Erring on the side of caution, Bulma had picked up four different pregnancy tests over two days, and all of them produced positive results. She was pregnant. Her period had not started when she'd expected, and although stress did occasionally contribute to a delayed menstrual cycle in her case, after three weeks she was getting worried. Stomach in knots, Bulma forced herself to visit a drugstore.
After one final drag, Bulma threw the half-smoked cigarette into the toilet. Worried that Vegeta (or even worse, her mother) would spot the evidence, she made a point of disposing of them along with all the packaging in the kitchen garbage before covering them up with old newspapers and fruit peels.
What am I gonna do now, she thought, there's no easy way out of this, no matter what I do... and Vegeta's gonna flip out...