Two Sides To A Story Chapter Seventeen

At seven-thirty the next morning, everyone was seated in the dining room but for the noticeable absence of two individuals. Mr. and Mrs. Briefs ate their breakfast and shared their usual nonsensical banter while Chi Chi glared daggers at the empty place settings. She was still upset over the manner in which she had been treated last night and didn't appreciate being made to look like a fool.

The door to the dining room swung open and Vegeta walked in. Trunks was seated in his highchair and had his face practically buried in a bowl of cereal. Sensing his father, he looked up long enough to babble a greeting and went back to devouring his breakfast.

"Where's Bulma?" Chi Chi asked neutrally as the Saiyan seated himself beside Gohan. The boy barely acknowledged his presence, as he appeared to be in a losing battle with just keeping his eyelids open. Ever sensitive to Vegeta's ki, the boy had been roused from sleep every time the older Saiyan and Bulma had coupled, which had been almost every other hour until dawn. Even as Gohan's mind tried to block out what was going on, his over- stimulated groin fixated on it and he ended up spending most of the night in the bathroom. Now he was chaffed, sore, and exhausted and just hoped to catch up on his sleep at school.

"Who do I look like? Her keeper?" Vegeta responded and busied himself with filling his plate. To say he had worked up an appetite was an understatement.

Her eyes narrowing in anger, the brunette was about to start interrogating him when the door swung open and Bulma stood in the threshold yelling, "Good morning, everyone! My! What a beautiful day!"

She ruffled Trunks' hair as she walked by and kissed her parents on the cheek and took her seat beside Chi Chi. "Boy, am I famished. This looks great, 'Chi. You really outdid yourself this time," she gushed, her cheeks flushed with emotion. Despite the lack of sleep, she was practically glowing and couldn't stop the corners of her lips from lifting in sheer happiness. She filled her plate with eggs and hash browns and began eating with true relish.

Chi Chi made no comment and picked at the contents on her own plate as she carefully observed the late arrivals. Every once in awhile Vegeta and Bulma would exchange a brief glance and a small smile, as if they were sharing a secret. Once, Bulma reached out for the salt just as the Saiyan was in the motion of grabbing it and their fingers connected. Self-consciously clearing his throat, Vegeta actually surrendered the container to her while the heiress giggled like a schoolgirl.

Chi Chi couldn't take it anymore. She slapped her hands down on the table and stood up. "All right, it's clear to everyone that you two have reunited. The entire household could hear it last night."

"Can't be helped. I'm a screamer," Vegeta retorted and Bulma burst out laughing before clamping a hand over her mouth.

Visibly bristling, the brunette continued, "If the pair of you want to live in sin, that's your business-"

"Excuse me?" Bulma gasped.

"-I just expect the two of you to have a little consideration for the rest of us living in this house," Chi Chi said in a harsh voice. "I don't think it's too much to ask for, do you?"

The standoff lasted for about ten seconds before Bulma forced herself to say, "No, Chi Chi, it's not. We're sorry."

Vegeta flashed her a sharp glare before turning his livid gaze back on Kakarrot's mate. "The woman does not speak for me and my opinion is the only one that matters here-"

"ExCUSE me?" Bulma asked again, this time focusing her outraged stare solely at the Saiyan.

"Everyone, let's just settle down-" Mr. Briefs was attempting to calm the antagonists with little success.

"NO!" Vegeta thundered. He got to his feet and pointed a rigid finger at Chi Chi who glared back, unflinching. "You're just a miserable bitch who can't stand seeing anyone being happy- Particularly me. I'm your problem, so be honest with it instead of trying to hide behind some outdated propriety bullshit."

"You're just using Bulma like you've been using others all of your life," Chi Chi ground out from between clenched teeth. "Commitment means nothing to you. When you're finished with her, you'll move on while poor Trunks will have to suffer being called a bastard for the rest of his life."

At this, Trunks looked up from stuffing fruitloops into his mouth and cocked his head to the side. "Bast'?" he mewled in confusion, looking to his mother and father and back again.

"Chi Chi, this is NOT the place or the time for this," Bulma hissed, her cheeks flooding a deep crimson.

"I used to have respect for you, Bulma," Chi Chi said with clear disdain in her voice. "For all of your money, for all of your influential contacts... this was the best you could do?" She motioned at Vegeta and shook her head. "Pathetic."

His entire body vibrating like a taut spring, Vegeta was poised to leap over the table and snap the bitch's neck in less time then it would take to even consider the act. Several things swayed this potentially disastrous course: He and Chi Chi were not alone; the entire household was present and his days of executing family units were over. Even more unnerving was the feeble ki emanating from the woman's womb; a reminder of its sire and a debt that still had to be repaid. The crazed bloodlust pulled at Vegeta, threatening to cloud his judgment but he no longer let the desire dominate him. Not anymore. Releasing a pent-up snarl, he retreated a step and then another. With a livid sneer twisting his lips, he pivoted on his heel and stormed out of the dining room.

Bulma watched him leave with troubled eyes and then said in a remarkably level voice, "Chi Chi, you are one of my most dearest, closest friends, and I love you with all of my heart..."

"Yes?" she prompted when the heiress fell silent.

"But after the child is born, I expect you to go back to Mount Pazou. You've overstayed your welcome," Bulma finished crisply and scooped up Trunks as she left the room, quickly followed by her parents.

Releasing a huff of exasperation, Chi Chi tapped her foot on the floor and watched her son as he gathered his schoolbag in preparation to leave. "You haven't finished your breakfast," she commented.

"I lost my appetite."

"I would have appreciated your coming to my defense when Vegeta insulted me."

"Maybe I think he's right," Gohan muttered and walked out on her, closing the door on her strident protests.

"Gohan! You march your hide right back here NOW! I mean it-" Chi Chi heard the front door slam and her commands stopped in mid syllable. He had walked out on her! She didn't know what afflicted her personally the most: His insubordination or the fact that he was siding with evil. Grinding her teeth together in pure rage, she started for the door when a kick to the womb practically brought her to her knees. Releasing a startled cry, she doubled-over and hobbled slowly to the nearest chair. The baby was reacting to her anger and lashing out in distress, bruising her insides with his frenzied movements.

"It's alright," she tried to reassure the child. "Everything's alright. Mommy got a little upset, that's all. Stop your fretting baby, please... You-you're hurting me," her voice became a plaintive whine. There were a few more weakened movements and then- nothing. She suspected (hoped) that it meant that the babe had fallen asleep. Very carefully, she forced herself to her feet and made her way back to the bedroom. She'd had enough excitement this morning.



By late afternoon, the hatch to the gravity simulator finally opened and Vegeta staggered outside into the sunshine. In the process of walking down the ramp, his knees buckled and if it hadn't been for quick reflexes he probably would have landed on his face. He sat on the hot metal and hung his head, waiting for his breathing and heart rate to slow down before he dared get up again. In his usual fatalistic manner, he had retreated to the simulator and channeled his rage and humiliation of the morning in the only method of coping that he knew. Now, his entire body ached from the strain and it had done little to curb his anger.

Damn that peasant cow! Damn her to hell! How DARE she speak that way to- He was going to think "me" but, amazingly, his thoughts went to Trunks. She had called him a bastard; not using the word as a curse but as a title and that only enraged Vegeta more. It brought him back to his own clipped words to Gohan outside of his apartment.

I"Tenacious little bastard, aren't you?"/I

And the boy's response: "My parents were married. How about yours?"

A damn good comeback and one that was accurate; his hadn't been. No issue on Vegetasei, but here on Earth it was coming back to bite him over and over again. It was only another remainder to the concept of marriage that Vegeta tried to dismiss. Shit, he and Bulma had only just smoothed over their differences and now Chi Chi was trying to add a whole new batch of problems into the mix. He was a man used to formulating scenarios and strategies in the shadows, but keeping one step ahead of that bitch was taxing even his methodical nature. He had to find a way to get rid of her without making it appear too obvious to the others. But how...?

A solid shadow drifted over the compound and Vegeta looked up to see a bright orange blimp gliding slowly over the city. There was a screen on the side that was displaying Mr. Satan's face and some new advertisement that he was endorsing. It looked like Coca-Cola.

Vegeta watched the blimp for some time, and that furrow between his eyebrows grew deeper as he became lost in thought.



That evening, he didn't show up for supper and no one dared to even bring up the scene at breakfast into the sparse conversation. Bulma tended to Trunks but once the boy ate his fill, the pair left the room without a word or look to Chi Chi. Not that the brunette would have noticed. She sat in her seat and rubbed her stomach while she picked apathetically at her meal and didn't even single out Gohan for his previous outburst. Not one to discount his rare good fortune, Gohan quickly ate his supper and then went into his room for the night. He wanted to catch some much-needed sleep before Vegeta and Bulma started with their evening 'exercises'.

After getting Trunks settled down to bed, Bulma watched some television with her parents. After a couple of hours, she released a loud yawn, stretched, and announced, "Well, that's it for me. I'm turning in, good night."

"Good night, dear," her mother said pleasantly and passed her husband a wink when Bulma got up from the sofa. "Be sure to get plenty of... rest."

Bulma's head whipped around and her cheeks flushed when she caught the double meaning to her mother's words. Neither she nor Vegeta had been discreet last night and the Saiyan wasn't the only screamer in the house. "Uh... thanks, mom. We- I- will." She felt like a humbled teenager again when she heard her parents laughing at her expense as she went up the stairs.

She went to her room and got ready for bed. Once she had changed into her nightgown, she sat on the bed and stared at the door. It wasn't as if she and Vegeta had discussed the issue, but was he coming to her room or was she to go to his? Was last night just a one-time thing? She dismissed that latter thought immediately. Too much had been said and exchanged to be so readily discarded.

After several minutes of kneading the cover slip on the bed with anxious fingers, she swallowed her pride and walked to the door, stepping out into the hall.

She came face to face with Vegeta who had been in the process of leaving his own room and heading down the corridor in her direction. He blinked when he discovered that he had been caught and actually took a step back, as if fearing a rebuttal.

Inwardly, Bulma sighed. There was still so much that the two had to work out and the Saiyan's inherent distrust was one of them. It was going to take more than one night of frenzied passion to cure that. A lot more. The prospect actually brought a smile to her face. "There you are! I was wondering when you were coming to bed."

"Why should I have to go to your room?" he pouted. "At least in mine you don't trip over any useless junk."

"I like my bed-"

"-It's Queen-sized. That's a real insult to me. I deserve a King-sized one. After all, I am the prince-"

"-of alllllll Saiyans. I know, I know," Bulma sighed dramatically. "Come on, let's stop arguing out here and go to your bed, alright?"

"Yours! His! Who cares?! JUST PICK ONE!" Chi Chi screeched. The pair was bickering right outside of her bedroom door.

"Sorry 'Chi," Bulma offered and managed to drag Vegeta away just as he was about to give the door a hard kick. He was wearing flannel sleep pants and she grabbed the elastic and gave it a hard yank. "Don't do it."

"Why the hell not? Give me one good reason!"

"Actually, I can give you two," she purred, cupping the smoothly rounded flesh of her breasts while she smiled provocatively at him.

His anger evaporated, just like that. Maybe after he'd had a few more couplings under his belt he wouldn't be so susceptible to her diversionary tactics. Right now, the mere thought of Bulma's body was enough to erase any thoughts of violence from his mind. "You really do play dirty," he grumbled, casting a lingering glare at Chi Chi's closed door.

"I learned from a master." Bulma offered him a playful wink and then headed down the hall towards his room.

Hesitating for only a moment, Vegeta trailed along after her trying not to make it look too obvious. He found her turning down the covers to the bed and came up behind her, rubbing himself against her behind while his hands slid up under the sheer material of her nightgown. Bulma guided his hands past the elastic waistband of her panties and into the curly tangle of her pubic hair. She was already wet and it didn't take long for her to start squirming from the sensation of his teasing fingers.

"I just can't seem to play hard-to-get with you," she sighed, twisting around in his arms to kiss him. Their mouths pressed together hungrily, tongues mingling with hot passion, and Bulma reached down to stroke and caress his desire-hardened flesh.

"What would be the point of that?" His voice was deceptively calm as she pulled the pants down over his lean hips to expose his straining erection. "You can't resist me. No woman can." He pulled her nightgown up over her head and began kissing her soft, wide-set breasts, lost in the resilient texture of her supple mounds. Each teasing little bite on her nipples and breasts sent shivers of ecstasy through Bulma's body. She should have been angry at his cockiness but couldn't manage a debate, not over this.

"Arrogant bastard," was all she managed to say but it didn't stop her from eagerly massaging his throbbing genitals with her hand.

She heard him chuckle deep in his throat. "You wouldn't have me any other way."

"Oh, shut up and make love to me before I come to my senses." She lay back on the bed and spread her legs wide, pushing her glistening mound upward like a flower in clear invitation.

"Hnh. And I thought my days of taking orders were over," she heard him grumble, but there didn't appear to be any malice on his face when he positioned himself over her. His throbbing tool was poised at her entrance but he hesitated to admire the creamy whiteness of her skin, and those entrancing blue eyes that seem to pierce his internal darkness. With unusual care, he pulled aside a strand of her odd-colored hair and kissed her as he slid his lust-engorged shaft into her warm, familiar canal. Bulma moaned into his mouth, stretching her luscious body sensually to receive every possible millimeter of him that she possibly could.

Arching perfectly over her, his muscular body rippling with sensuality, he began to move slowly in and out of her vaginal sheath. Bulma mewled in pleasure, pulling up her legs and wrapping them around his back, giving him full and total access to her accepting warmth. Every muscle in her body was shimmering with delight as she responded perfectly to his every lunging stroke. She gazed longingly into his coal black eyes, enthralled to have his rippling, powerful body entering her, feeling every taut muscle moving in perfect precision.

I've never loved you more then I do this very moment, she thought, wrapping her arms around his neck.

- Tell me something I don't already know, came the immediate response in her mind.

Her eyes flew open in surprise but he was only smiling calmly at her. - This close together, our thoughts are intertwined. You'll have to guard your mind carefully if you don't want me to listen.

- I've got nothing to hide from you, Vegeta. Not anymore, Bulma promised him, smothering his face with kisses.

That offer of intimate trust caused him to falter for an instant and she could feel his mind pull closed, like dusty curtains trying to keep out the purest beam of sunshine. She knew that he was fighting a lifetime of distrust and that he felt ashamed by displaying the barest hint of empathy. She would just have to be patient and let him deal with those emotions in his own way.

Vegeta 'heard' all of this in her mind and he could hardly believe how well she knew him. He would never have guessed in all of his travels that he could have found someone like her and he was not one to forsake such rare instances of luck. Completely exultant now, he felt their torrid passion was combined with the sweet ecstasy of her love that made their lovemaking extraordinary beyond even his wildest dreams. He drove into her with a frenzy of excitement, eager to pleasure this wonderful woman who could be warm, tender, and loving or erotic and voluptuous at the same time.

Bulma's legs were shaking with exhilaration, clamped around his back, and she twisted and moaned as she clutched wildly at his bulging muscles. Their future was full of promise now, the time of heartache and loss well behind them, and she could scarcely contain her happiness. When she closed her eyes, she saw little pinwheels of exploding color flash behind the lids, and cried out with the explosive climax that consumed her being.

Vegeta's loins began to vibrate with seething lust and his blood raced hotly through his glistening body. Every sinewy muscle undulated with a growing tide of passion until his body was poised on the knife-edge of total, electrifying release.

In one spare instant he gazed deeply into the dazzling pools of Bulma's glittering blue eyes and then threw his head back and emitted a long, roaring bellow of accomplishment. Like an explosion of ice and fire, he discharged his scalding seed into the depths of her shuddering womanhood, while she writhed and screamed in exquisite bliss.

It could have been minutes or hours before the wondrous rapture of their coupling began to ebb away. Vegeta reluctantly withdrew his softening member and lay next to her on the bed. There was a long silence as the two contented lovers let the lingering sensations of their passion flow over their exhausted, perspiring bodies.

They were startled by Chi Chi's sudden outraged shout coming from the other side of their closed door: "For the love of God, keep it down! Some people are trying to sleep!"

Bulma had to jump on Vegeta's back as the Saiyan made a sudden lunge for the door. The pair wrestled briefly before she managed to steer him successfully back to the bed. "Just a couple of more months," she promised.

"She'll never leave," he ground out from between clenched teeth.

Bulma sighed. She was afraid that he might be right and her small shoulders sagged with dismay. "She's my friend and she needs my help but she's also driving me crazy. What am I going to do?" she asked, climbing under the covers.

"Just leave things to me."

He was standing by the bed with his arms crossed, still staring at the door. She looked up at him sharply. "No killing."

"There won't be any bloodshed."

"So... what are you going to do?"

He didn't answer right away as he silently deliberated. Finally, he walked around to the side of the bed and slipped in beside her. "I haven't got it all planned out yet. The timing isn't quite right."

"God! I hope it happens soon!" she said and settled into the pillow to get some much needed rest.

Lost in his customary brooding, Vegeta made no more comment and grabbed the remote control off the night table to watch some television. Bulma didn't press him for details as she once might have done and allowed herself to drift off to sleep. She knew that he was scheming but this time let herself be assured by his promise and trust his judgment.

Her slight form released a contented sigh and Vegeta looked from the television to stare at her slumbering form for a long while. He wasn't used to sharing his bed. After spending a lifetime of leaving a room after sex was over, or booting out the woman he had just screwed, this turnabout on his behalf was unusual. A part of him was unsettled by her close proximity but a stronger part, mercifully, now anticipated it. He had pined for her as he spent his lonely nights in Pitch. He wasn't one to turn his back on the offer now that it was here in the flesh.

Wouldn't Nappa and Radditz howl if they saw me right now, he thought somberly. At the slightest recollection of his cohorts, a blaze of pain settled over his left temple and he rubbed it with a grimace, turning back to the TV.



As the days progressed with their usual post-holiday chaos, Bulma's schedule was swamped. With the addition of Vegeta's designs, her workload had more than doubled as word got out regarding Capsule Corporation's new acquisitions. Several rival companies were panicking as they desperately tried to find out the identity of the mystery designer who seemed to be single-handedly revolutionizing the technological sector. It amused Bulma that the Saiyan was entirely oblivious to the furor his contributions were creating. What's more, he didn't appear the least bit interested. At least, not until he got the first royalty cheque in his hand.

About a week before Christmas, Bulma and her father had presented him with the seven patents and a bonus cheque. He had originally refused to take it, thinking it some manner of demeaning handout. It had taken close to an hour of persuading before he reluctantly accepted the offering. It wasn't until he had left that Bulma began to get an understanding of his confusion over the issue. For all of Vegeta's life the concepts of wealth and acquisition of power had meant bloodletting, intimidation, and brute force. Now, here he was being given a cheque that had a digit followed by a half a dozen zeros and all that he had done to earn the fortune was draw ideas to paper. He was still shaking his head in confusion when he climbed into his jeep and drove into the city.

Bulma had all sorts of thoughts that day about what Vegeta would do with the money. Yamcha would have immediately stopped at a dealership and bought a new sports car. After that, the fighter would have bought himself an entire new wardrobe. As it turned out, all the Saiyan did was deposit the money in an account that Dr. Briefs had set up for him, and treat himself to a meal. Ever since that confrontation with Chi Chi over his and Bulma's relationship, he had refused to eat any more meals at the table if she was there. He wouldn't touch any of her leftovers and what few meals her mother made for him were substituted with catfood casseroles of his own making.

When asked why he was squirreling his money away when he could be splurging on gifts for himself, Vegeta could only shrug. Further probing on her part revealed that he didn't believe that it was the first cheque of many (he still didn't trust her father) and he was keeping himself on a strict budget just in case he found himself back out on the street. None of her reassurances really quite hit home. Bulma hoped that he would eventually come around but it was very slow progress, and she had to constantly remind herself to be patient with him. For the most part, the two were absorbed in their own solitary pursuits and didn't see one another except when it was time to go to bed. By the time their mutual lusts were satisfied, there really wasn't much time left for conversation before they fell asleep.

As much as Bulma tried to tell herself that they were finally free of the tortures of the summer and fall, there were still reminders that fueled her concerns. Vegeta still experienced disturbing gaps of memory that his brief rapport with Trunks hadn't filled. She would stumble upon one of these blank spots quite by accident; a conversation that he didn't remember, an incident he wasn't sure he experienced. Prior to his exposure to Frieza's poison, Vegeta's recollection had been virtually impeccable. Now, whenever he recalled something, there was an undercurrent of doubt to his voice, as if he wasn't quite sure of the details. It wounded her because she was helpless to do anything other than pretend to not notice the lapses.

Also, he suffered terrible nightmares about his ordeals at Installation 15 and often woke up bathed in a cold sweat. On several occasions he called out Frieza's name and once, when Bulma reached out to touch him, he recoiled from her touch so violently that he fell out of bed. Ever the reassuring presence, Bulma managed to calm him down but it was a long time, if at all, that he managed to fall back asleep. He had not shared any of the details of his experiences at the top-secret lab with her, and she wasn't about to ask. She remembered that mysterious illness that had befallen her shortly after Chi Chi and Gohan had moved in and now realized it had been from the result of their bond. Weakened by distance and neglect, there still had been enough of a rapport between them for her body to react to what he had been enduring. Often, she would lie awake for several hours after she managed to get him settled; the victim of her own overactive imagination that recreated all sorts of tortures that Vegeta would never admit he endured. The worst one of them all being:

Had Freiza gotten to him when he was vulnerable, before finally being eliminated once and for all?

Her favorite moments between them were immediately after sex when Vegeta was more receptive to conversation. There was so little that she knew about him that didn't revolve around violence and every tidbit she managed to extract, no matter how seemingly insignificant, gave her some new insight into his complex character. Once the holidays were finally behind them, he seemed to relax a little more and didn't try to evade her questions with such obvious scorn. Always an opportunist, Bulma wasn't about to let such rare occasions pass by without attempting at least one probing question.

"Why did you come back?" she asked him one night, scarcely before he had rolled off of her.

He squinted at her in a bewildered way as he wiped his forehead with a heavy hand. It was only during brief times like these that his usual arrogant guards were down and he was virtually defenseless against her well- intentioned inquiries. "Huh?"

"When you returned from training in space. Why did you come looking for me in the Capital?"

"I finally made the ascension," he told her after a long pause.

"Into Super Saiyan," she realized. "That's why you showed up. You wanted to share that with me?"

"It didn't quite work out that way," he grumbled, lacing his fingers behind his head and staring moodily at the ceiling. She thought that he had lapsed into one of his sulks when he suddenly asked, "Was it... a difficult pregnancy?"

It was the first time that he had ever willingly brought the topic up. Bulma rolled over on her stomach and stared down into his face. There was genuine curiosity in his features; nothing more or less. Keeping her voice carefully neutral, she told him, "I started bleeding right after you left. Stress had a lot to do with it but Trunks was also causing damage. I was bed-ridden right up until the delivery."

Vegeta recalled the faint scar that was just above her pubic hair. "It was not a normal birth."

"No. Caesarian was the only choice."

"So the boy was ripped out of you." For some reason he appeared satisfied by that. "Did you scream?"

She blinked at him. "Did I-? I was numb from the waist down but I was conscious. There wasn't much pain but you can be sure that I was screaming curses at you! I- What the hell is so funny?!" she wailed, outraged at the sight of the smile on his face.

"I was thinking of the similarities with the proclamation of my own birth," he told her, pushing her back. " 'Born in blood, heralded by screams. So lives the vanquisher of our enemies...'" His fingers gently grazed the scar on her lower belly, "... prince Trunks."

"Oh." Bulma's entire body broke out into gooseflesh at the cryptic statement. Her heart flooded with her overwhelming love for him and she moved in for a kiss when he shattered the mood with; "Why the fuck did you give him such a stupid name?"

She rolled over, deliberately giving him her back. "Good night, Vegeta," she said coldly.

"I'm serious. What the hell were you thinking?"

"I said: Good night."

"I mean 'Trunks'," he shook his head with dismay. "That's not even close to a Saiyan name."

"You would have preferred Eggplant?" she snapped. "Or how about Rutabaga or Turnip? I think that one's my favorite. Turnip Briefs."

His face darkened. "Vegeta is fine."

"That's his middle name."

"It should have been his first."

"Do you have any idea how confusing that would have been? Everyone would have started calling him Junior."

"Vegeta junior." He recoiled from the thought with a shiver. "These earth customs are going to be the death of me."

"You'll get used to them," she said in a softer tone. The days of their fights lasting longer than a couple of minutes were long behind them. Propping herself up on one elbow, she regarded his face for a long moment and traced errant designs across his firm chest with her fingernail. "I often wonder if things might have turned out differently if you hadn't found out about the pregnancy... that way. I expected you to come back after two or three months. Not seven."

"The craft was damaged and I needed provisions."

"But when you left you only had enough supplies for a maximum of three months. How were you able to extend them?"

A crafty smile crossed his face. "I acquired some finances."

She didn't like how that sounded. "You did some freelance purging?"

"It wasn't necessary."

"Earth money would have been useless currency," she reasoned. "You didn't have anything else to trade except..." Her face blanched and her eyes widened in horror. "Oh no. You-you didn't-"

Vegeta's smug little smile broadened.

"!!YOU USED MY PANTIES FOR BARTER!?!" she screamed at the top of her lungs. She picked up a pillow and began pummeling him with it. "That's disgusting! That's sick! That's- Ohmigod, I can't believe you did that!" All this time she had thought that the Saiyan had kept her underwear as a precious keepsake of their last coupling. The thought of some other depraved alien fondling the material for kicks made her skin crawl.

Easily blocking the assault, Vegeta said with a laugh, "The last I heard, the King of Pryon VI found them a perfect fit."

"AGH!" Bulma put her hands over her ears.

"If I ever return to space remind me to raid your underwear drawer," he continued. "He really liked that pink color."

"Creep!" Bulma pounced on him and the pair fell out of bed in a tangle of sheets. By the time they had finished their tussle, he had her arms pined above her head and his body was holding her down. "Feisty tonight," he remarked, arching one thick eyebrow in amusement.

"That was a lousy thing to do, Vegeta," she fumed.

"A return trip to earth was too far out of my way. That little scrap of fabric kept me in supplies and fuel for another four months."

"I thought that you were... were..."

"-Jerking off with it?" His raunchy grin resurfaced. "I didn't need your panties for that. All I had to do was think about you and I was hard."

"That's so gross."

"But so true," he growled, burrowing his face into the hollow of her neck. "Don't try to tell me that you didn't pleasure yourself when I was away."

Bulma went strikingly silent with this change of topic and he knew that he had touched a nerve. He started laughing when she tried to match his gaze and just couldn't do it. Blushing furiously, she massaged her wrists after he released her, and wished that she had kept her big mouth shut.

"Show me," Vegeta grinned.

Alarmed by the shouts coming from Bulma's room, Gohan crept silently down the hallway and put his ear close to the door. Over the last couple of weeks, the pair had finally taken Chi Chi's advice and quieted down and the sudden fighting concerned the boy.

"-not going to show you!"

Gohan could hear Bulma's strident pitch quite easily, followed by the Saiyan's husky voice, "Oh, now you're going to play the shy virgin? Give me a break. Let's see what's in here-" There was the sound of the drawer in the night stand rattling.

"Get out of there- Oh god!" Bulma yelped.

There was the sound of low buzzing and Gohan frowned in confusion. It was obviously shared by Vegeta who blurted out, "What the hell is this thing?"

"It's my vibrator, you pervert. Give it back!"

"What does it do?"

"I use it to..."

Bulma's voice dropped to a furious whisper and Gohan leaned his ear against the surface of the door. It took some concentration, but he was able to use his keen hearing to pick out the key words in her explanation. It wasn't long before his face filled with hot blood and his groin began to pound. On the other side of the door, the buzzing had started again, accompanied by a low moan of pleasure. Gohan wasn't sure if the sound came from Bulma or Vegeta, and he wasn't going to wait around and find out. Walking slightly bent over, he hurried back to his room and locked the door.

It was going to be another sleepless night.



A few weeks into the New Year, there was yet another reminder of Frieza's lingering influence over the Saiyan's health. Bulma should have noticed it first, but she had overslept and was late for a meeting and gave Vegeta a rushed peck on the cheek as she left the bedroom. She didn't seem to notice that he hadn't even roused.

Gohan came home from school early and immediately went into the kitchen to make himself a sandwich. While he ate, he found a note on the table and read it. Mrs. Briefs had taken Trunks for a walk in the park, it said, and would be back before supper. The boy squinted painfully at the handwriting, holding it at arm's length before setting it down. The school had conducted eye examinations for the students that morning and Gohan had been diagnosed with severe hyperopia due to his farsightedness. The staff nurse made an appointment for him to see an optometrist tomorrow and told him it was very likely that he would need glasses.

Gohan had known about this trouble for some time but hadn't wanted to bring it up with his mother because he knew she would have only complained about the added expense. Ever since her rant at breakfast over Bulma and Vegeta's relationship six weeks ago, she had started hoarding every possible cent in preparation for returning to Mount Pazou after the baby was born. Gohan knew that they were in financial trouble but wasn't sure if it was his place to make an appeal to Bulma for them to continue to stay at Capsule Corporation. He didn't particularly like the fast-paced, impersonal nature of Western Capital, and still didn't fit in at school, but he knew the situation would not improve if they left. Especially not with the addition of a new mouth to feed. He was supposed to be the man of the house now that his father was gone, but he was genuinely at a loss at what he could do.

His small form wracked with tension that went far beyond his limited years, Gohan went upstairs to face his mother. He found her taking a nap in her room and choose not to wake her. Bulma and her father were at work so that left only one other occupant. Gohan knew that Vegeta hadn't been very interested in sparring lately. He had observed in the past that the Saiyan only seemed able to emotionally cope with one thing at a time, and right now he appeared distracted by his intimacy with Bulma. Perhaps with some major pleading, Gohan would be able to work out with him inside of the gravity simulator. It would be just the thing he needed to forget about his present troubles.

Changing into his training gi, Gohan jumped out of the window and landed in the courtyard. He immediately noticed that the gravity simulator wasn't in operation. The hatch was closed and locked but the external lights were not showing any activity. Brushing his hand against the metal, he found the surface cool and knew that it hadn't been used all day. After one of Vegeta's extreme workouts, it wasn't unusual for the exterior of the capsule to smolder for hours.

His nerves were suddenly on edge for no reason he could fathom. Silently debating for a full minute, he finally sent out a polite inquiry: - Vegeta?

No response. He levitated up to one of the view ports and looked through the red-tinted glass for some sight of the Saiyan. The main training level was deserted. Gohan knew that there was a living area beneath the main floor and sent out a more forceful thought: - Vegeta! Is everything all right?

There was the stirrings of a thought and Gohan had to concentrate in order to hear Vegeta's weak response; - ... get lost brat...

Gohan slapped his hands against his forehead, crying out with the backlash of pain he received from the three simple words. For that one instant, he had touched minds with Vegeta and had felt the excruciating agony that currently enfolded the Saiyan's thoughts. Up until this instant, Gohan had been unaware that Vegeta still suffered any after-affects of his past mental trauma and he ran into the building at a frenzied sprint to get some help.

Deep in Chi Chi's womb, there was a direct kick that roused the brunette from her nap. Cradling her stomach protectively, she curled into a miserable ball and lay there shuddering for a few moments before she was able to sit up. The last few weeks of her pregnancy had been absolutely brutal and she still had another month to go before she reached full term. She wasn't sure if she was going to make it. All of the stress she was under seemed to be affecting the baby and causing it to lash out in agitation. Her stomach ached constantly from the assault and her spine felt like it was filled with ground glass. Only her indomitable will forced her to her feet each day and act as if nothing was wrong.

She was just getting out of bed, groaning at the pressure on her swollen ankles, when Gohan rushed into the room. "Mom! There's something wrong with Vegeta!"

Join the club, came her first thought. She vocalized the second: "I don't want to hear about anything that has to do with that murderer. Go find Bulma."

"She's not in her office. Neither is her father. I think they're away to some meeting in the Capital. Mrs. Briefs took Trunks for a walk and won't be back for another hour. I really think that Vegeta is sick-"

"-That's a shame," she responded in a bland tone.

Gohan's face flushed with anger. "I think he's still suffering from Frieza's poison. Can't you show even a little pity-"

"Pity?" Chi Chi released a bitter laugh. "When has that butcher ever felt remorse for what he's done? Have you ever heard him apologize? For anything?"

"Yes," the boy said in a level voice. His dark eyes were focused on his mother and his face looked old beyond its years. "Twice. Mom, you have to let this resentment towards Vegeta go."

"I don't have to do anything!"

"I know you're jealous-"

"!!I AM NOT JEALOUS!!"

"Bulma chose him over you!" Gohan shouted back. "You're bitter that dad chose not to come back to us while Vegeta, of all people, is staying close to Bulma and Trunks. It's driving you crazy!"

There was only stunned silence following that outburst. Completely taken aback by her son's words, Chi Chi could only manage one shocked blink before Gohan said in a softer voice, "You're hurt and I understand how you feel. I want dad back too, but it's not going to happen. I-I've accepted that..." He forced back tears and struggled to continue, "Vegeta has changed. He's my friend and if you don't help him, I swear that I won't go back to Mount Pazou with you. I'll... I'll stay right here. I mean it!"

All of the strength went out of Chi Chi's legs and she would have toppled strengthlessly to the floor if the bed hadn't been right behind her. Her lower lip trembled and she betrayed a choked sob and buried her face in her hands. This betrayal was the final straw, made even worse by Vegeta's apparent foresight into an escalating situation she had been oblivious to.

"I'm beginning to understand why Kakarrot didn't want to come back to life. He knew he'd have to face YOU. I've seen how you ride Gohan. Keep it up and he's going to run away, too."

My family, Chi Chi thought in despair. I-I'm losing my family.

Fighting the urge to go over and comfort her, Gohan stood his ground. He had really only touched the tip of the iceberg with his resentments and fears and he was still very angry with his mother for all of her selfishness. Not just what she had displayed over the last several months, but for the last few years. She had changed ever since the first appearance of the Saiyans, and not for the better. He had finally had enough.

In a remarkably calm voice, given the circumstances, he said, "I'll go do what I can for him. I'm sorry I disturbed you."

He turned to leave and stopped when she called out: "Wait."

Chi Chi was getting slowly back to her feet. She managed to keep her indignation at bay and smothered her tears to face the crisis at hand. When she raised her eyes to her son, Gohan was relieved to see no anger there, just purposeful resolve. "Let's go to the kitchen first."



"...goodness...he's coming around..."

"...color back to his face. That's a good sign."

"Vegeta? Do you hear me?"

Releasing a low moan, Vegeta put a heavy hand to his forehead and felt a compress lying there. It was cold and sticky and stank to high heaven. When he finally opened his eyes, he saw blurred figures standing around him and recoiled in shock, scampering back on the cot until his back hit the wall. It took a couple of seconds before it registered that the entire Briefs family, as well as Gohan and his mother, were crowded in the small living area beneath the main floor of the gravity simulator. He looked back at their frightened, worried faces and snapped, "What are you all doing down here? I wanted to be left alone."

"Vegeta, we've been trying to wake you up for the last three hours," Dr. Briefs told him gravely.

"We were so worried!" Mrs. Briefs chimed in, dabbing at her eyes with a hanky.

"I'm fine. Get out," the Saiyan growled, pulling the herbal poultice from his forehead and staring at it in disgust.

"You heard him," Bulma said evenly, holding Trunks in her arms. The baby was staring fixedly at his father with his lavender brows knitted together in rapt attention. "The show is over. I'll handle things from here."

"Bulma-" Chi Chi started but she was cautioned by a deliberate shake of the head. Not now, Bulma's gesture said. Gohan took her hand and led her out of the capsule. Bulma handed Trunks over to her mother and calmly waited for her parents to leave.

For a long time, Vegeta stared at the compress in his hand before he finally dared to look up at Bulma. His cheeks were flushed with embarrassment when he said in a low voice. "None of this was necessary-"

"Wrong, Vegeta. It's apparently long overdue," she told him in a clipped tone of voice. "I just checked the activity logs of the simulator. You've been holing yourself in here, catching naps in the afternoon ever since you came back to Capsule Corporation. You've been trying to pass it off as if you're training-"

"-I am training!"

"Not like before. Not every day. I sent my mother to go fetch the painkillers that I'd given you and she told me that the bottle was empty."

Vegeta's lips became a bloodless white line and a muscle began to jump in the corner of his jaw. He tried to give her an irritated glare and ended up looking away in defeat. Squeezing his eyes shut, he didn't react until she reached out and took his hand. She wasn't surprised to find that it was cold to the touch. "You're still suffering from that terrible poison. Why didn't you tell me?"

"I thought I was getting better," he admitted. "The headaches weren't as frequent. I was getting stronger. Then this morning..." He shook his head an immediately winced from the brief action.

Bulma searched his face and saw that it was still too pale for her liking. His left eye was slightly bloodshot and he was obviously still in some pain, no matter how hard he tried to hide it. Guiltily, she realized that their passionate lovemaking marathons weren't doing him any good by depriving his depleted system of the much-needed rest it so desperately required. Rather than push her away, he had chosen to sacrifice hours of precious training time to catch up on his sleep. She didn't know whether to hug him or slug him.

"Lay down," she said at last. "It's dark and quiet down here. Get all the sleep that you need."

If it had been anyone else telling him what to do, he would have stormed out of the capsule right then and there. Instead, he regarded her for a long time and finally relented. When he stretched out on the cot, she covered him with a spare blanket and tried to replace the compress on his forehead. "Get that disgusting thing away from me," he barked, squirming away from it.

"Leave it on. I really think that it helped. Chi Chi made it just for you. Some old family recipe, she said." Bulma slapped it down above his eyes, watching in amusement how his nose wrinkled with loathing at the feel of the damp cloth on his skin.

"If she thinks I'm going to thank her, she'll have a long wait," he grumbled.

"I don't think she's looking for any gratitude. As funny as it sounds, I think it was meant as an apology on her part."

"I don't care. She's NOT staying."

Bulma didn't answer. Despite her terse words she knew that she couldn't, in good conscience, throw her best friend's widow out of the house. Not with a newborn in her arms. It was a dangerous gamble: Keep Chi Chi and lose Vegeta. Or visa versa. Which choice was the best?

"Get some rest," she chose to say instead. She kissed him and headed for the stairs.

Vegeta had seen her indecision over the issue and hadn't liked it one little bit. "Bulma..." he said in a warning tone.

"I'll bring you something to eat in a little while."

"!!BULMA!!" he roared and immediately cradled his aching head and gave up on further debate. Just before he succumbed to his exhaustion, he brooded; That bitch can't stay here. She can't! My plan had better work or...

He was asleep before he could finish the thought.



With unusual chagrin, Chi Chi made a plea to Bulma to give her the chance to stay at Capsule Corporation until she could earn enough money to support her family on her own. She also threw in that an intelligent boy like Gohan deserved a decent education rather than having to work on a farm for minimum wage. As if all this guilt wasn't plaguing Bulma enough, Vegeta was constantly nagging her about her weakness to deal with the issue once and for all. Part of the problem with his mood was that he was pissed off that Bulma had cut him back to only having sex once a night. During one of his rants, she had finally kicked him out of the bed and the pair had spent the first night since his return, sleeping in separate rooms. (In all honesty, sleep had been really the last thing that either did and they had reconciled by early morning.) He finally gave up complaining but he wasn't happy. Not by a long shot.

As a result, a wary truce settled over the Headquarters building. The Saiyan started to eat meals at the table again but only because Mrs. Briefs was assisting in meal preparation and it was enough of a compromise so that he didn't lose face. Chi Chi spent more time resting and less time bitching as she neared the delivery date, and became much easier to live with. Gohan hovered nervously around her, catering to her every request. Neither person brought up the tense exchange that they had shared in her bedroom. There were days when Chi Chi wanted to make some comment until she looked into poor Gohan's face and immediately forget her words.

Just as the school nurse had predicted, the boy had been fitted with glasses, big ugly ones. The first time that he had worn them at the table, Vegeta had almost choked on a mouthful of peas. "Tough break, boy," he managed to get out.

It was a commiseration that Gohan shared.

More times than not, he deliberately left them behind on his dresser when he headed to school. That only made things worse when his mother would knock on the door to his classroom, interrupting a lesson, so that she could give him his glasses in front of everyone. As a result, his schoolyard nickname of "Bumpkin" was quickly replaced with "Squint". As he endured the cruel ribbing, he wished he had been the one to die during the Cell games instead of his father.

On a Tuesday morning in February, Chi Chi noticed that Gohan had left for school without wearing his glasses again and went up to his room to retrieve them. She was getting tired of these silly acts of defiance. She had better things to do in the limited spans of time when she was actually on her feet, than chase after him. After a fruitless search of his room, it appeared as if the boy had deliberately hidden the darned things for good. Muttering to herself, she expanded her search to the living room, dining room, and finally downstairs in one of the computer labs where the boy often did some research for school projects. She discovered the empty carrying case that the glasses came in but no sign of the actual eyewear.

Imagining her meager savings going sailing out the window at the thought of buying another pair, she went in search of Bulma. Her intention was to make a veiled insinuation that Capsule Corp. had a thief on the payroll that liked to collect adolescent spectacles for kicks.

As she scurried around the labyrinth of corridors, she skidded to a stop when she heard Vegeta's voice coming from one of the labs, "-can't believe this..."

"Look, li'l buddy-"

"Stop calling me that!"

"-The data-sorting algorithm you specified isn't working. The whole model keeps crashing over and over."

"Small wonder," the Saiyan commented as Chi Chi poked her head around the side of the door. He and a lab technician, a co-worker of Bulma's she knew vaguely as Charles, were studying a computer monitor. A few more assistants were keeping a respectable distance while they watched the pair in silence. "You have the recursion variables entered wrong. It's causing an infinite regress of the program. Idiot!"

"You could see that in all those lines of code?" the scientist said in a stunned voice. He sat down in front of the computer and began a closer scrutiny of the data. "Holy crap, you're right!"

"Of course I'm right," Vegeta huffed as he straightened. Chi Chi could see that he was in his jogging clothes and her eyes widened when she noticed something else. "I told you before: enter the computations in terms of priority I clearly specified in the design. Switch them around and- "

"Vegeta!" Chi Chi charged into the room.

The Saiyan snapped his head around and his eyes widened comically behind what he was wearing. "Oh shit-"

"What are you doing wearing Gohan's glasses?!" the brunette snapped, ripping them off of his face. "He needs these!"

Blushing furiously, Vegeta tried to call up a defense and simply crossed his arms; his only nonverbal response when words completely failed him. Charles had practically dragged him from his morning jog and showed him the problems they were having with the code of a program based on one of his designs. One look at that near-microscopic print had immediately started a headache to form in the back of his brain. He had snatched Gohan's glasses from the computer table in an act borne of desperation. That he actually needed them was bad enough (his farsightedness was even worse than Gohan's), but to have Chi Chi catch him wearing them was ten times worse.

The matter got even more complicated when Bulma walked into the lab. "What's with the yelling? Chi Chi? What's wrong?"

"My little Gohan is going to school half-blind because Vegeta is wearing his glasses!" she spat out, waving them in the air.

Bulma glanced at Vegeta with raised eyebrows of surprise but the Saiyan appeared to have found something interesting on the ceiling to stare at.

"Hey, for what it's worth, I thought he looked pretty cool," Charles supplied helpfully.

"Shut up, idiot," Vegeta growled under his breath.

Wishing that she could have arrived just a few minutes earlier, Bulma said, "Well, what's done is done. 'Chi, you have the glasses now. I'm sure that Gohan will need them to- 'Chi? What's wrong?"

The brunette was staring down at herself with a bewildered expression on her face. All at once, clear liquid began running down her legs to form a puddle on the floor. "Oh," she said in a soft voice and suddenly doubled over, gripping her stomach. "Oh god!"

Bulma knew instantly what was happening. "Vegeta, you have to fly her to the hospital."

"I'm not touching her!" he yelled, backing away. "She's leaking!"

"Her water just broke," Bulma explained. "She's going into labor!"

The Saiyan still wasn't making any move towards her. Bulma could hardly believe the look of disgusted panic etched on his face. Here was an alien solely responsible for hundreds of thousands of deaths and yet when faced with the prospect of a birth, he looked close to bolting. She shook her head in rising anger. "Damn it, Vegeta! Either you can take her to the hospital or you can help deliver the baby right here! Pick one!"

That got his legs moving. "Which hospital?"

"Capital General," Chi Chi rasped as he picked her up. "You-you'll have to hurry. It's c-coming!"

To say that Vegeta broke the sound barrier in his haste to get her to the hospital was an underestimation. Bulma called the situation ahead and a nurse was waiting for them with a wheelchair when he landed outside of the Emergency doors. After getting her settled in, she was quickly wheeled into the nearest elevator.

Still not comfortable with hospitals, Vegeta didn't enter the building and sat on a bench to wait for Bulma. She didn't disappoint him by arriving within a few minutes.

"How is she?" she asked, almost out of breath with excitement after she had parked the car.

Vegeta simply shrugged.

"Don't you know?"

"What do I care? It's not my kid she's having."

Rolling her eyes, Bulma charged through the double doors and was halfway to the admissions desk when she realized that Vegeta wasn't with her. He was still standing outside in the ambulance bay.

She walked back in exasperation. "Aren't you coming inside?"

He looked uneasily at the building and finally shook his head.

Place of poisons and pain, Bulma remembered. That was Vegeta's description of a hospital now; after all he'd endured. She wasn't going to force him to deal with his fears right now. "Alright. Thank you for bringing her. I'll call and let you know how things turn out." She kissed him on the cheek and then rushed inside.

Vegeta watched her leave with mixed emotions in his dark eyes. The dominant one being: Relief. Kakarrot's wife was finally squeezing out the brat and that meant only one thing.

It was time to put his plan into action.



Bulma made all of the necessary phone calls from her cellphone and it wasn't long before all of the Z Fighters were gathered in the waiting room. As opposed to the tense scene with Trunks' hospital stay three months before, this time there was a sense of exhilaration to everyone's mood. In a way, it seemed as if Gokou was among them once more as they all waited expectantly for the birth of his second child.

Gohan was pacing the room as if he was the father instead of a big brother, and everyone watched him with amusement as he fretted over the time it was taking. Mrs. Briefs arrived with several store-bought platters of cold cuts and treats and the atmosphere became almost jovial as everyone shared stories of past adventures.

Walking the halls with Trunks, Bulma was telling the boy about his own birth when Yamcha came up along side of her. "Not too long now," the fighter commented with an easy smile.

"No, they just wheeled her into delivery," Bulma said. Chi Chi was determined to have a natural birth and the heiress wondered if it was meant as another jab that she had chosen the quicker way with a caesarian.

Nodding slowly to himself, he continued, "It can't have been too easy. Y'know, with... her in the house."

"There were some tense moments," she said neutrally.

"Some bickering and name-calling, I imagine."

"Sometimes."

"Yeah, I'll bet," he laughed but Bulma wasn't fooled by the issue that he was really dancing around. Ever since the destruction of Ivory city, he had kept his distance from Capsule Corp. Not so much as a visit, a call, or a letter and she knew why. "Yamcha, Vegeta and I have worked everything out."

"Did I ask?" the fighter gave an innocent shrug.

"No, but I know that you were curious."

"He'll never love you as much as I did, Bulma," the fighter confessed and Bulma was relieved to finally hear her ex-lover use the past tense. "He'll never marry you and that's what you deserve most; To live happily ever after- Just like in a fairy tale."

"I don't know, Yamcha. He is a prince and he's full of surprises. It's really too soon to tell."

Yamcha snorted sourly but he kept his comments to himself. He knew that the chances of the pair ever getting hitched were even poorer then when he had dated her. "Speaking of Vegeta, where is he?"

"Home. This isn't his scene," she said, intentionally keeping the explanation vague. She had called the headquarters building twice and only got the answering machine both times. For some reason, she didn't think the Saiyan was anywhere near the building. So where could he be?

Yamcha just snorted again.



On the other side of the Capital, a large training doujin was filled to capacity with eager young students who wanted to learn martial arts from a master. All of the walls were filled with posters and pictures of the man in various, outlandish poses. Strutting up and down the lines of trainees was the owner and instructor that they all revered. He was spouting his usual rambling dialogue and they hung on his every single word.

"You're here to learn from the best!" Mr. Satan barked. "Well, I'm the best there is at what I do. Nobody else can even come close to my raw might!"

He stopped in front of one trembling little six-year-old who only came to the height of his belt buckle. "You down there! Hit me with your best shot."

His eyes as wide as saucers, the little boy looked as if he was about to pee his pants.

"C'mon!" Mr. Satan ordered, pointing to his belly (which had grown considerably since the Cell Games thanks to all of his endorsements). "Hard as you can!"

Biting down on his lower lip, the boy swallowed once and then punched the hairy behemoth as hard as he could. Mr. Satan released a barking cough of surprise and then swept the little boy up, spun him above his head, and then slammed him down on the mat. There were humbled "ooo's" and "ahhh's" from the gathered students as they stood around the stunned child.

"You see? Soon all of you will be able to defend yourselves from any savage attack," Mr. Satan boasted. "Is there anyone else who would dare take a shot at me?"

There were startled shouts from the back of the class and a column of students hastily parted to allow a solitary figure step up to the mat. Mr. Satan turned expectantly to confront this new challenge but his eyes bulged when he caught sight of a figure in blue spandex complimented by white armor, gloves and boots.

"Sure, I'll take a shot," Vegeta smirked.



"What's taking so long?" Gohan fussed as he walked around in aimless circles. Piccolo reached out and grabbed his shoulder to stop him from pacing. The boy's movements were making him dizzy.

"Okay, lay your bets," Oolong was asking as he made notations into a little notebook. "Boy or girl?"

"Ten bucks it's a girl," Mr. Roshi said eagerly. "I just loooove little girls." The entire room went silent as everyone stared at him in horror. "Uhmmm... maybe that didn't come out quite right," he relented, slumping back into his seat.

Tien and Chiaotzu exchanged raised eyebrows but wisely kept their comments to themselves. They looked around as a doctor in surgical scrubs walked into the waiting room. Everyone held their breath in expectation.

The doctor removed his mask and walked right up to Gohan and shook his hand. "Congratulations Mr. Son. Your mother has given birth to a healthy eight-pound, two-ounce baby boy."

"I have a brother?" Gohan's thoughts felt like they were swimming in molasses. "I have a brother!" he yelled in relief. He hugged Piccolo and then did the circuit while everyone patted him on the back.

Slipping out into the hall, Bulma tried calling the Headquarters building again to relate the good news to Vegeta.

He still wasn't home.



"What's the matter?" Vegeta asked as he slowly circled the huge wrestler. "Don't like a challenge from someone who's not in the second grade?"

Mr. Satan looked like he had deflated in his dark clothes. He recognized the man taunting him, oh yes indeed. The hairstyle was different but he would never forget that piercing dead gaze as long as he lived. This was the fighter at the Cell Games who had arrived arena-side first and put the run to the announcer with just a few clipped words. He wasn't quite sure of the name; Fajita? Begonia? "Wh-what do you want?"

"It should be obvious."

"I don't want any trouble in here. Understand?"

"Tough. You've got trouble, furball."

"I didn't do nothing to you!"

"Wrong again."

Gathered around them, there was an undercurrent among the students as they whispered among themselves.

"...who is that guy?"

"I remember him. He was at the Cell Games, too."

"Why isn't Mr. Satan fighting him?"

"... looks scared."

"...chicken..."

Mr. Satan didn't appreciate being ridiculed in front of his students. Taking a deep breath, he stopped his slouching, flexed his muscles and towered over the short Saiyan as he bellowed, "Fine! You dare challenge me? Take this!"

He charged, moving with about as much grace and skill as a wounded rhino. With a bored expression on his face, Vegeta sidestepped at the last possible moment and then drove his elbow into the fighter's back as he stumbled by, driving him down into the mat. With that pathetic display, the human reminded him of Nappa and that was probably the only reason why he didn't kick the man while he was down.

"I see that you need a break," Vegeta said with disdain. "That's fine. I'll take this moment to warm up." Crossing his arms, he gave a half-hearted kick at the two hundred pound punching bag beside him. The blow sent the object crashing through the nearest wall, into the office next door, and out across the street where it collided with a parked car.

Staring at the huge hole in his once-immaculate new building, Mr. Satan said the only thing that actually made sense. "Class dismissed," he weakly croaked.

Obviously, none of the students wanted to leave and it took some coaxing to get them to go. They lingered outside of the building staring in the windows and Mr. Satan rushed around to pull down the blinds. There wasn't much he could do about the hole in the wall and a crowd had already gathered around, looking in. It wouldn't be long before the police showed up. Mr. Satan only hoped that they wouldn't be calling for a coroner.

His curly hair soaked in nervous sweat, he turned to the man who was walking along the wall looking at all of the pictures and trophies and plaques. "You've done very well for yourself, I see," Vegeta remarked.

"Th-thanks."

"It wasn't meant as a compliment," the Saiyan growled.

"Oh."

"What did you do to deserve all of this wealth?"

Mr. Satan immediately got swept up in the lie that had made him famous around the globe. "Why, I defeated Cell, of course! All by myself with just my amazing fists as a weapon against his-"

Moving with that uncanny speed of his, Vegeta silenced him with a deliberate blow to the diaphragm. All of the breath went out of the immense man and he collapsed to his knees with a tortured gasp. Even so, he was still taller than the Saiyan but at least not by so much. They were almost eye-to-eye now. "Don't you dare try to bullshit me," Vegeta growled, poking him in the chest. "The other pathetic earthlings may buy your garbage but don't waste it on me. I was there, remember?"

Fighting to get his voice back, Mr. Satan rasped out, "...I remember..."

"I watched you cower behind a rock while the actual fighting went on. It took an eleven-year-old boy to beat Cell, not you. I think that they should know that."

Mr. Satan looked at him and then to where he was staring at; the hole where people were gathering. Someone had a camera and was taking pictures and if it was a reporter, the fighter knew he was sunk for sure. "No- NO! Don't tell them, don't tell anyone. I-I'll do anything you want! PLEASE!"

It was just what Vegeta wanted to hear.



"He looks just like you when you were born," Chi Chi told Gohan as she cradled her new son. It was early evening and most of the fighters had left for home now that the excitement was over.

"Really?" Gohan gently held his little brother's hand, marveling at the tiny fingernails and knuckles.

Nodding, she said, "Same dark hair, same white skin, same-" A length of dark brown fur uncoiled from the blanket and flailed briefly in the air before wrapping around her arm. "Same little tail," she finished with a giggle.

"Are you going to let him keep it?" Bulma asked, sitting beside her as she let Trunks ogle the new arrival. The rapt expression on the boy's face seemed to be saying; Listen here, punk. I'm the older of the two so you had better get used to that. I'm the boss.

"I wouldn't dream of depriving him of something he was born with. It just wouldn't be right for me to-" She glanced at Trunks and then noticed the wounded expression on the other woman's face. "...Oh. I'm sorry, Bulma. I didn't mean-"

"-Yes, you did," Bulma said coldly. She picked up Trunks and walked out of the room, fumbling with her cellphone. She dialed her home number again and this time slumped against the wall when the phone was picked up on the second ring. "Vegeta?"

"You woke me up."

"Sorry," Bulma muttered.

"So, is there another spawn of Kakarrot I have to worry about?"

"Chi Chi gave birth to a son about three hours ago."

"Great," came the less then ecstatic response.

"There were no complications," Bulma said, snuffling back tears. "A healthy baby boy, with all of his fingers and toes and-and-"

"Are you crying?" There was actually a note of concern in his voice.

"Yes," she admitted. "Chi Chi made a cheap shot about Trunks' tail."

"You won't have to worry about her for much longer. I took care of things."

A sense of alarm swept through her. "Where were you this afternoon?"

"I had to go visit an old friend. He should be showing up soon. Wait around for it, should be quite a show."

"Vegeta, what the hell did you do?" she hissed into the phone.

"Nobody got killed. Bruised, maybe, certainly humiliated, but no blood was shed. Let me know how things turn out."

"Vegeta-"

-Click.

Bulma stared at the phone in disbelief. Just as she started dialing again, there was a commotion down the hall. Flashbulbs were going off and there was a multitude of voices shouting questions, and one bawled out: "Where is he? Where is that brave little warrior?"

Rounding the corner, Mr. Satan appeared followed by an entourage of reporters and film crews. A harried-looking nurse was leading them straight to Chi Chi's room and, for a change, Bulma and Trunks were completely overlooked as the crowd swept past them to cram into the small room.

Standing in the background, Bulma watched as the huge fighter took a place beside Gohan, wrapping one huge arm around the boy while he made faces at the new baby. It wasn't surprising with all of the excitement that the baby started crying and Chi Chi held him protectively while she stared daggers at the unwanted arrivals. "What's going on? What are all of you people doing in here?"

"We're live in three...two...one!" called out one of Mr. Satan's staff. Off camera, another member began holding up a script written on large placards.

"Ms. Son," Mr. Satan spoke up using his most charming bass rumble. "I extend my most sincerest regards with the arrival of your newest bundle of joy. I know that it hasn't been easy for you, losing your brave, heroic husband to the likes of that terrible monster, Cell."

"What are you-"

Mr. Satan pulled Gohan close to his side and spoke directly into the nearest camera. "This brave young lad lost his father to the Cell Games. He was right there on the battlefield to pay witness to the carnage that evil villain brought into all of our lives. I am ashamed to admit that I overlooked the deep, personal trauma that this wonderful family has suffered. I assure you that my guilt and my pain is real." His voice broke and the camera zoomed in as he rubbed away a false tear.

Reaching into the breast pocket of his shirt, he pulled out a slip of paper and presented it to Chi Chi. "Ms. Son, on the behalf of me, my staff, the Western Capital, and the entire world, I present this cheque to you as some meager means of compensation for the tragic loss your family has suffered. I hope that you can find it in your heart to accept it-"

"Give me that!" Chi Chi snatched the cheque out of his hand and examined it very carefully. "We're rich!" she shouted to Gohan.

Mr. Satan's broad smile flagged and he fought to maintain it. "Let the world know that I care about all of its citizens; young or old, rich or poor, strong or weak-"

"We're rich! We're rich!" Chi Chi chanted over and over.

"What do you plan to do with the money, Ms. Son?" one reporter asked.

"Hey!" Mr. Satan bawled. "I wasn't done."

"I'm going back home," Chi Chi said with tears in her eyes. She hugged Gohan and kissed the baby and corrected herself. "We're finally going home."

Watching all of this from the corridor, Bulma couldn't stop the smile that stretched her lips. "I'll be damned..." She hugged Trunks and spun him around laughing in delight. "Your father is a genius, you know that?" she proudly told the boy.

Trunks only responded with a gloating little smile. He knew it.

Epilogue

After returning from the hospital, Chi Chi and Gohan were only at the Headquarters building long enough to get packed before they left for Mount Pazou with their newly acquired wealth. They would never learn that Vegeta had blackmailed Mr. Satan to share a portion of his ill-gained fortune with the Son family or risk exposure that Gohan had done his dirty work for him. Only Bulma knew about it and she rewarded the Saiyan for his ingenious scheme by temporarily lifting the once-a-night rule. The pair fooled around on Chi Chi's bed all night long and screamed as much as they wanted.

A few weeks later, Bulma got a phone call from Krillin. He had asked Android 18 to marry him and damned if 18 hadn't said yes. Relating the news to Vegeta, she saw an odd look came over his face that she had never seen before. "Are you okay?"

He said he was fine but the next morning he packed up some clothes and said that he needed to get away from the Capital for a few days. Bulma was completely floored by his sudden change in personality. She had thought that if there were any time he would be running away, it would have happened while Chi Chi was still in the building. Not now!

He didn't give her any kind of excuse and left without offering her any consolation. He didn't even bother to say good-bye to Trunks. Too mad to shed any tears, Bulma could only be soothed by the fact that their son didn't appear the least bit troubled by his father's odd departure. If anything, the boy appeared to be even more cheerful, giggling whenever she came near. It was as if he was privy to a wonderful secret that he couldn't form the words to share. That made Bulma secretly wonder what other schemes were possibly brewing inside of the Saiyan's head.

Two days later, she was in her office thoroughly engrossed in paperwork when Staci knocked on her door and opened it wide enough to stick her head in. "Ms. Briefs?"

"I'm busy, Staci."

"Ms. Briefs, I really think you-" The door was forced open and Vegeta sauntered in as if his brief absence had never occurred. His clothes were ripped and caked with dirt and his face was streaked with grime.

"Vegeta, where have you been?" Bulma asked in alarm. He looked as if he had been in a brawl.

Reaching into the pocket of his coat, Vegeta withdrew an object slightly larger than a baseball and threw it onto her desk. It was a filthy rock.

"There!" he said, crossing his arms haughtily. "I won't be upstaged by some three-foot tall midget."

She didn't want to touch it but he appeared to be waiting for her to say or do something. "...uhm, thank you Vegeta. It-It's lovely."

It was apparently what he had wanted to hear. He gave a satisfied nod and then left her office to go get cleaned up. Bulma wondered if he had hit his head while he was away. Staring at the rock he had given her, she pushed it to one side with her pen and tried to wipe off the grime it left on the report she had been working on.

She was just in the process of rewriting it when Charles walked in. "Hey there, highness. I'm off to the deli, any requests?"

"Just the usual," she said in a distracted tone.

"Cool paperweight," he remarked, staring at the rock on her desk in a strange way. He experimentally scratched at it with his fingernail.

"You want it? It's yours." Bulma knew that among other eccentric hobbies, Charles was also an amateur geologist.

Mindless of the dirt, he hefted it in his palm for a moment, testing the weight, and then rubbed it against his lab coat. The action exposed a clear, translucent surface. "Bulma, where did you get this?"

"Vegeta found it somewhere," she gave a distracted wave until the scientist's dumbfounded silence penetrated her concentration. She looked up to see the man staring at the rock with a mixture of wonder and astonishment. "Why? What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I'd have to run some tests to be sure but..." he lapsed into another rare period of speechlessness before managing to get out, "I'm pretty sure that this is a diamond. A big one."

It was fortunate that Bulma had been sitting down when she heard that or she would have been on the floor.

Once he was finished with his shower, Vegeta went into the kitchen to help himself to some leftovers. He was just polishing off his second plate of food when Bulma burst in, gasping and out of breath.

"You're too late, I ate the last chicken wing," he said smugly.

She held up the huge diamond in one shaking hand. Her lips were trembling as she forced out the words, "Why-why did you give me this?"

He leaned back in his chair and exhaled resignedly. "It should be obvious."

"You... you-you and me... you want t-to-to-"

"I'm not going to ask you," Vegeta interrupted her, "And I certainly won't beg. I gave you the gemstone as part of the ritual. The rest is entirely up to you. Yes or no?"

Bulma felt all of the blood in her entire body turn to ice. The room actually appeared to grey out for one instant before things came slowly swimming back. Vegeta didn't move, staring at her with an expression torn between impatience and boredom.

Her paralysis broke when she realized that he wasn't joking and she wailed at the top of her lungs: "!!OHMIGOD! YES! YES, I'LL MARRY YOU VEGETA!!"

She dove into his arms with such force that they fell to the floor and she burst into noisy, braying tears while she smothered his face with kisses. Trapped underneath of her, Vegeta passively surrendered to the assault while he privately wondered just what kind of hell he was getting himself into.

Looking into Bulma's sparkling, tear-filled eyes, he was surprised to discover that he couldn't wait to find out.
~The End

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*whew* Yes, this is the last chapter of "Two Sides to a Story". I want to thank everyone who stuck around for this lengthy tale. It's been quite a wild ride!

I'm pleased to make the announcement that there WILL be a sequel to this tale: "A DRAGONBALL HONEYMOON" will be coming July 2003!

Hope to have you along for this new adventure!