Even though he would never say it out loud, Vegeta started to have some doubts about his ascension. Many more months had passed and he was training at 350 times Earth's gravity. He knew he could go all the way to the max. Which was 400. But then what? He felt like he hit the ceiling. Like he could not go higher. The next level should be Super Saiyan. Surely, he was stronger now than Kakarot was when he ascended.

The effects of getting injured and healing were wearing off. No real noticeable powerboosts anymore. This frightened him, because it really was the only trick in his book. What else was there?

The bots Bulma made for him were fantastic. Where he had been stuck, power wise, he still had some improving to do on his speed.

His mind wandered to the blue haired genius who made all the intensive training possible. He heard her crying last night. Her father had died. The funeral was today he believed. He had been keeping his distance from her for the past two weeks. She was very emotional. And Vegeta did not care for this. He had no way to ease her pain. Inthe past he had taken care of her. But that was easy. She was either physically hurt, which could be easily dealt with, or she was struggling with the aftermath of being captured by Frieza. Something he had experience with. So, helping her had come naturally, so to speak. But this was entirely different. She was...sad. Heartbroken. Mourning. Nothing Vegeta knew anything about. Well, of course he had lost a lot. A planet, a home, his race. His father...

But he had just been a boy. He knew he cared for his father. Even though he was so tough on him. He remembered when he saw him with Frieza. Obeying his every wish. It made him lose respect for his father. Why wasn't he standing up to him? Of course, the years had given him more insight on that. His father most likely hadn't served Frieza for himself. But for the existence of his planet, his people. He had to swallow his pride.

His father had never really shown any affection towards him. Which he was fine with. Saiyans were not like that. He didn't think he ever really missed him. Although, on occasion he had wondered about him. If he would have approved of him. Probably not. But Bulma's father, had always been there for her. They ran a company together. They laughed together, cried together. He was one of the only people Bulma could talk shop with. It was too damn complicated for everyone else. So, he could see why she would miss him.

A few nights ago, she had come to him. She'd never done that before. He was in bed. Resting, not sleeping. He had sensed her coming of course. She was in pain. And she had come to him so she could...deal with it. So, she could feel better. Forget her grief, for a moment. This in itself, was amazing to him. No one had ever come to him for consolation. He was the reason people needed to be consoled. But not Bulma. It was his own fault. For allowing her to feel that way about him. So many times, he had told himself, he would 'keep it casual'. Not connect with her. For a while it had worked. Only because it seemed the woman had also decided it was best not to get emotionally involved with him. Their sexual encounters had been purely about releasing stress and just...having fun. He didn't think that word suited him: 'fun'. But he could not think of a better very so often, she would look at him in a way that was...deeper. But he pretended he hadn't seen it. Fooling himself. But when she came to him a few nights ago, looking like that...

Big, ocean blue eyes, filled with pain and sadness. She had been crying, her make-up slightly smudged. Even her energy seemed different. He sat up straight in bed. She had on one of his black t-shirts, crawled onto his lap, and started kissing him. He knew this was trouble. He knew that she was hurting. He should not be doing this with her now. He thought about saying her to go away? For her to stop? He wasn't sure.

"Woman..."

She just gently put her fingers against his lips. "ssshh."

And that was that. There was no way to tell her no. He didn't want to. She needed him, in that moment. What kind of man would he be to kick her out of bed then? When she was so upset, so full of sorrow, so vulnerable. Giving herself to him like that, defenseless. It was endearing, almost. So, they spent the night together, like they had so many times before. But this time, it was to make her feel better. To comfort her. He had been gentle, and soft and attentive. And he enjoyed it. This was bad. He was afraid that she would read too much into it. That this now was, what she always expected from him. Thankfully she had fallen asleep almost immediately. He sneaked out like a coward and had been avoiding her ever since. What was this woman doing to him?

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Bulma sat on the edge of her bed, pulling her heels off. She couldn't seem to move. Staring blankly ahead. She felt all cried out. Like she couldn't shed another tear. Her sweet father. She would never see him again. This day was more than she could bear. It had been like a movie funeral. Everyone dressed in black. Everyone in tears. Rain. She had not managed to give polite smiles and nods. Exchange small talk. All she did was hang onto her mother for dear life. Trying to get through the day.

Her mom had left with her best friend. She felt she needed a change of scenery for a few days. Coming home without dad was too hard. So here she was, alone. Which was good. She wanted to be alone. Sulk in her misery without anyone judging her. Her black suit was wet from the rain. She was cold, but she didn't care. She didn't care about anything. Nothing mattered. She decided what she needed was alcohol. She went downstairs to grab a bottle of wine before making her way back upstairs to her bedroom. She did not want to run into Vegeta right now. In this pathetic state she was in.

For some reason she found her way into her walk-in closet. It was cluttered, she could easily give half of it away, and she would still have way too much clothing. She ran her hand along her clothing items, drinking straight from the bottle. She used to love clothes and fashion when she was young. But as she got older, she got hooked on science. Her looks became less and less important to her. She always did have a knack for dressing well though. After Namek however, she completely lost touch with that side of her. Not giving her outfits much though. And she couldn't remember when she had last gotten a haircut. She really was due for a change. Her hair was too long, too wild. Maybe she could go make a change, after she was ready to leave her fortress of solitude. When she could step into the light, and be part of the world again. But not now. For now, she just wanted her sorrow to wash over her. To feel the pain, so it would eventually lose its intensity.

She put on some music, and started to sway her hips to the beat, drinking wine. Being a lightweight when it came to drinking, it didn't take long for her to feel the effects of the alcohol. Plus, at the funeral she threw back two glasses of whiskey when no one was looking. She was looking at some outfits that carried certain memories for her. The suit she wore when she and her father pitchedtheir capsules to the military. The dress she wore to that fancy restaurant with Yamcha. She stopped when a red dress caught her eye. Red, it used to be her favorite color. Frieza ruined that for her. She had not gone close to anything red, since Namek. She yanked the dress off the hanger and threw it in the corner on the floor, so she could get rid of it later. Her eyes seemed to focus in on everything red. She started trashing the room, in search of every single red piece of clothing she owned. The pile in the corner grew larger and larger. Bulma felt her breathing getting shallow. Her heart beating faster and harder. She turned the radio off, the music suddenly too loud for her. When she looked around the room, everything was red. She was dizzy. She couldn't breathe. She dropped to the floor, tearing her blouse open. She clawed at her chest. Wanting to tear it open so she could catch a breath. Panic took over.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Vegeta was lying on the floor of the GR. He was exhausted. His muscles ached to be released from the constant pressure of 350 times Earth's gravity.

Suddenly he was hit with a sensation of panic. The woman was in distress.

He jumped to his feet and pressed the button to open the door, the room automatically dialing down the gravity to 0. Within seconds he was staring down at her. Panic in her eyes. He got to his knees, facing her. He put his hands on her upper arms, squeezing them gently.

"Relax woman, breathe...You're having a panic attack." He emphasized his calm deep breaths for her. Her energy was different again. She grabbed onto his arms, trying her hardest to calm down. "You're fine...you're ok.." He could see tears starting to form in her eyes. He looked around the room and noticed the pile of red clothing in the corner. He understood why they were there. "Sssh, it's ok. Calm down woman."

Slowly but surely her lungs managed to catch a deeper breath and her heartbeat slowed down. The panic disappearing from her eyes. He sat down on the ground with her. She was clearly hurting. This did not suit her. She should be strong, vibrant, bold.

She was looking down at the ground, like she was embarrassed. Playing with her fingers.

"I said goodbye to my dad today."

"I know."

She met his gaze.

"I can't wear red anymore."

"I know."

She took another drink from the bottle and handed it to Vegeta, who in turn took a drink. Then she got up, took off her already open blouse, and pants, leaving her in her underwear alone. Her beauty caught him off guard, still. Even after he had seen her naked so many times. He watched her put on a large, comfortable sweater, before sitting down in front of him, cross-legged.

"Did you have a father growing up?"

"Yes."

"You miss him?"

"No."

"Why not?"

He shrugged. "I was a kid when he died. And I barely saw him when he was alive."

"How did he die?"

"Frieza."

Bulma nodded slightly.

"The pain will wither in time, woman. Grief and sadness always do. It's anger that you're left with. Anger can keep you going till the end of time."

She raised the wine bottle in the air. "To anger." She said, taking a few big gulps.

Vegeta got up to leave, satisfied the woman had calmed down.

"Wait, you're not gonna stay with me?"

"No. You're drunk. Sleep it off."

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Fuck. He had to leave. He was never going to become a Super Saiyan like this. With that blasted woman, invading his thoughts, his senses.

After he left her, he could not help but wonder if she was ok. He had to check on her, make sure she was still breathing. And now, like a fool, he was standing in her bedroom, watching her sleep.

The fact that he had sensed her distress, caught him off guard. And it pissed him off to no end. Because it meant that, despite his best efforts, he had bonded with her. He could feel her energy from far, for a long time now. But really tuning into her feelings, her wellbeing. That was new. He believed it was something that Saiyan mates had. A mental link with each other. He had only heard Nappa speak of it at some point. It wasn't anything that interested him. There were no Saiyan females left anyway. But now he feared he had inadvertently made this connection with her.

She was sleeping on her side. Her face peaceful, free of the pain he could see in it earlier.

He had to leave this planet. To be free of her. To go somewhere uninhabitable. An unforgiving wasteland. Where he could unleash his power without having to hold anything back. Where he would become a Super Saiyan, or die trying.

He made a plan to stay a few more days. A week at the most. To make sure the woman would be ok and so she'd have time to fix any minor damage done to the GR in the past few weeks and fully stock it for a long journey. He felt she probably didn't want him to go. Who would have thought that. She should be thrilled to see him go. Anyone would. But not her. He wasn't even sure she would help him get ready for the trip. If that was the case he would just get up and leave anyway. He'd take the risk of breaking down in space.

When he sensed that she was about to wake up he hid himself in a dark corner where he would not be seen by her. He saw her jump out of bed in a hurry to get to the bathroom. She was sick. No doubt from the alcohol she consumed. He heard her brushing her teeth a moment later before she made her way back to bed. "Fucking wine. Never drinking again." Vegeta smirked. Yeah right.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

The next morning Vegeta woke up to delicious smells coming from the kitchen. His stomach growled instructing him to follow his nose. He already knew it was the woman who was cooking. For he could sense her and he knew no one else was here. But she was not much of a cook, therefore the sight that met him in the kitchen surprised him. The woman was standing in front of the stove, wearing a large grey shirt that fell just over her ass. She hadn't noticed him yet. He watched her reach up for something, causing her t-shirt to ride up and reveal her ass in black, dotted underwear. He rolled his eyes at himself. Because once again he wanted nothing more than to put his hands on her.

She turned around to set a plate of bacon on the table. When she looked up at him, she smiled. A genuine, bright smile. Not ever, not even when he was a boy, had anyone smiled at him like that. The alarm bells were going off again.

"Goodmorning." She said, tucking her hair behind her ear. Flushed cheeks from the shower she had just taken. "I was very hungry, so I started making food. But I seem to have lost my appetite in the process. So...more for you."

Vegeta was now actually hungry for something very different: her. But with the last time being so...emotional...he felt strongly that it would be best to leave it at that. He sat down, trying to focus on the food. Pancakes, bacon, fruit. Bulma was moving around in the kitchen, putting stuff in the dishwasher, bending over. For fuck's sake. Was she doing this on purpose?

Then she sat down across from him. "Vegeta, I...I just wanted to say...thank you. For last night."

"Hn."

She smiled. "I take it you have some experience with panic attacks."

"Had a few when I was a kid."

"Well, it was really frightening. I don't know what would've happened if you weren't there."

"You would have been fine. They pass."

She nodded and took one strip of bacon. But as soon as her lips touched it, she dropped it on her plate.

"Regretting your alcohol intake?" He said smirking.

"Yes, although I really didn't have that much I think."

They sat there, in silence for a while. Bulma tried various things but her stomach didn't seem to agree with anything on the table. Vegeta easily cleared all the plates though.

"You know, I was thinking, your Namek battle suit. Do you still have it lying around somewhere?"

"Yeah, why?"

"I wanted to see if I can recreate the material. Maybe I could make you some proper fighting gear for the battle against the androids. For the other guys too, if they want. I could use a project. I need to keep busy."

Vegeta nodded.

Bulma started clearing off the table. Vegeta thought about having a decent suit to fight in. He hadn't really given it much thought before. But if he were to be a Super Saiyan, a battle suit that was similar to that of the Saiyan battle armor would only be fitting. He watched her again as she moved around. She had no idea what she was doing to him. No idea how sexy she was to him. Well, to everyone probably. He could not imagine there was a male in the universe that wouldn't have her that way. That didn't exactly put him in a good light though. What made him better than all those other men who had objectified her? Even Frieza was drawn to her looks. And had taken what he wanted from her. Of course, Vegeta never would have laid a hand on her if she hadn't wanted him to. And he would be lying to himself if he said it had all just been about the physical. He had been drawn to her mind as well. Her spirit. And he noticed that lately, now that she was having nightmares again and flashbacks, that there was a growing anger in him as well. The thought of that vile creature putting his hands on her, drove him crazy. Those white, disgusting hands on her skin, hurting her...

"Are you ok?" She asked. Snapping him out of his thoughts.

"Yes."

"You look like you've seen a ghost."

"I'm fine."

She walked over to him. She stood behind him and started to massage his shoulders and neck. Vegeta closed his eyes. Trying to erase the mental picture from earlier. Her lips found his ear. "You want to go upstairs?" She whispered.

Dammit. Here he was again. Didn't he say it was done? No more.

"Yes." His voice hoarse.

Bulma smiled brightly and jumped in his arms. Kissing him, like she had so many times. But each time, was like the first time. Passionate, deep, filled with lust and longing for more. He carried her upstairs to the bed where they spent so many hours exploring each other's bodies. He already knew every single curve of her. All the spots where she was sensitive. Her smell. They had done it all and more, yet he was not bored. Not in the least. He would never grow bored of this.

Her energy was different again. Sometimes stronger, sometimes weaker. Probably due to her emotional state. She went from happy to sad so easily. He let his hands roam her body, feeling her warm skin under the t-shirt. He felt her nipples go hard, poking his skin. His face in her neck, breathing in her scent. One more time. One more time he would feel her beneath him. And so, he let go of his doubt, and enjoyed the feel of this woman for the last time.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

"How many women have you been with?" She asked. Her fingers drawing circles on his chest.

"Does it matter?"

"I'm just curious."

He sighed. "A few. It didn't really interest me."

"Why not?"

"I had other things on my mind."

"I see. So..."

"What do you really want to know, woman?"

"Has it always been this...intense for you? Sex?"

"No."

"Oh." He felt her smile against his skin. No doubt pleased by his answer. "Why not?"

Vegeta took a deep breath, his chest going up and down. The woman was clearly fishing for compliments. "Don't know. The other women were much more beautiful than you."

Bulma lifted her head, leaning on her elbow. Eyebrows furrowed, but a teasing smile on her face. "Is that so?"

"Yes, next to them, you're hard to look at actually." He smirked.

"Yeah right." She climbed on top of him, sitting up straight. Her hands on his torso. Still wearing the grey t-shirt. "You know, I actually find Yamcha a much better lover than you."

His smirk disappeared. "That's not funny." His hands found her hips. "Take that back." He squeezedher hips slightly.

"If you tell me the truth. Am I prettier than the other women you've been with?"

He rolled his eyes. "Yes." A bright smile appeared on her face. "Your turn."

"You've ruined me for other men." She said. She leaned forward to kiss him. But all of a sudden she stopped, panic in her eyes. She scrambled off him quick as she could, and made a break for the bathroom. She was sick again.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Bulma felt like the world came crashing down on her once again. Honestly, how much could one person take. She was pregnant. There was no denying it. Three positive tests stared back at her. She stepped in front of the mirror to check her belly. She didn't really look different. Not yet. Small signs had been there. But so much was going on in her life, she paid them no attention. She had been on birth control. She used it perfectly. Yet, here she was, pregnant. They had been fornicating like bunnies. He was a Saiyan. In hindsight it seemed ignorant to assume she was being safe. But she never gave it any thought. Not one. And Vegeta had never said anything about it either. She couldn't believe it. She was going to be a mother. To Vegeta's offspring. This was insane. Absolutely insane. What the hell was she thinking! Well, she really hadn't been thinking at all. Not when it came to Vegeta. She just wanted him, with such passion. It had completely taken her over. Like a man thinking with his penis. And now she was screwed. Knocked up. She wanted to go to her dad, for advice. God, how she missed him. He would have been so happy to hear he was going to be a grandfather. And pissed off to know it was with Vegeta. He was always very protective of her.

How the hell was she going to tell him? What would he do? She had no doubt that Vegeta would not be happy about this. Even imagining him smiling and hugging her after hearing the news, was laughable. But ...would he blame her? Would he leave and never come back? Would he want her to get rid of the baby? Did she? Was it even an option? How far along was she? She sighed deeply. She needed answers first. She had to go to the doctor. But it occurred to her that she was growing a half human, half alien in her belly. Could she even go to a regular doctor? There was actually only one person in the world who could help her. Chi-Chi. Mother of a half human, half Saiyan child.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

The door flew open almost the second she knocked.

"Bulma!" Goku stood in the doorway with a big grin. "I thought I sensed you, come in."

"Is chi-chi home?"

"Getting groceries. Been gone a while, should be back soon. Why?"

"I need to talk to her."

Gohan was sitting at a desk, doing homework. He waved at her. "Hey Bulma."

"Hi buddy." She gave him a wink.

"Oh? Are you ok? You can talk to me if you want." Goku asked.

Bulma sighed and sat down at the kitchen table. He'd soon find out anyway.

"I'm pregnant."

"Gosh, I did not see that coming!" Goku said weirdly. Like he actually had seen it coming.

"You're going to have a baby!?" Gohan asked.

"I guess I am, yes."

"That's great! You'll be an awesome mom!"

"You think?"

"Of course. And Yamcha will be a great dad!" Gohan said.

Bulma blushed, looking at the floor.

"I don't think this is Yamcha's kid, Gohan." Goku said.

"Oh." Gohan pressed his hands to his mouth.

"It's Vegeta's, right?" Goku asked

"Yes."

Goku knelt down in front of Bulma. "Are you not happy about this?"

She shrugged. "I don't know what to feel. It hasn't really sunk in yet. But I probably have to raise this kid by myself. What Vegeta and I have...it's not really a relationship. It's more..."

"A passion kind of thing?" Goku asked.

Bulma smiled, blushing. "Yes."

"Look, I know this must be scary for you, but honestly Bulma, you are more than capable of raising this kid. I know for a fact, you are not going to mess this up."

"Is that so?"

"Yes. Of course, I hope Vegeta will play a role in this kid's life, and in yours. But should things go differently, really, you will be fine."

"How do I tell him? He'll hate me."

"He won't hate you. But I see why you're dreading it. Do you want me to tell him?"

"God no. That would be much worse." She said.

"Yeah, that would not be right. You're just...going to have to tell him." Bulma was having hard time putting on a brave face. She was close to tears. "It's the best thing in the world, having a baby..." He said, receiving a forced smile from Bulma.

"I just needed to know a few things. About the pregnancy and doctors and such. Chi-Chi is the only one I can ask."

Goku nodded. "She'll tell you all you need to know."

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

On her way back to CC, Bulma laid a hand on her belly. "Guess we're doing this, little one." She had gotten a lot of information from Chi-Chi. With Gohan, she had been pregnant a little bit longer than the average human pregnancy. 10 months. She had felt miserable at the beginning. Strong and full of energy in the middle and the last bit had been horrible. It was then that she really noticed she was not carrying a regular baby, but a strong Saiyan baby. This did worry Bulma, because Chi-Chi was so strong. Physically stronger than herself. She did get the number of their doctor at the time. He would know her pregnancy was special. Chi-Chi called ahead for her. She could go see him tomorrow bright and early. Then, when she had all the information, she would tell Vegeta.