Chinks in the Armor

The months that Bulma and she spent alone preparing for the eventual return of the cyborgs had rushed far faster by then she could have imagined. The words of a mysterious lavender haired youth had served as a blueprint for what was to come. Her parents had wondered why their little girl had suddenly moved away to a small vacation home in the mountains with her new best friend, but they thought little of why. Unable to hide her pregnancy any more Bulma had taken her friend into trust.
So that night when Bulma felt strange pains in her body, she wondered if it was just a false labor. Groaning she held her side and shuffled over to pick up the phone. Hastily she stabbed buttons.
“Hello?” she called.
“Yes? Bulma, is that you? You sound panicked?” asked the female voice at the other end.
“I… I think the baby's coming. I need…”
“Hold on! I'm on my way. Get the suitcase you packed, and wait!” Dr. Carbonate's voice urgently barked. Bulma prayed the next contraction would not be too soon.
Ten minutes later the front door swung open admitting the dark haired scientist. She pushed hair, now dyed dark purple out of her face and shoved her key into her purse. Just inside the door stood a small valise with the Capsule logo on the side. The emergency bag was all ready to go, but where was the mother to be?
“Oh crap… where is she? Bulma!” she called.
“In here!” Bulma panted, somewhere from the small sitting area. Dr. Carbonate reached her in only two seconds, seeing Bulma's pale face clammy with sweat. The capsule scientist sat on the couch, trying to tie her shoes over her bulging abdomen.
“I've got the engine running. We can get to the clinic in fifteen minutes tops,” said Dr. Carbonate, sliding her arm around Bulma's waist to help her stand. Not protesting the help, Bulma let the scientist walk her out to the front door, stopping only for her valise.
Into the cold morning they hurried. Over Bulma's shoulders Dr. Carbonate draped her raincoat, and guided her to the waiting car. Exhaust from the tailpipe wisped up into a small white cloud, the same consistency as their breath misting from their mouths. She opened the front passenger door for Bulma, and then assisted her friend in sitting down sideways. Then Bulma swung her feet around and panted with the effort. Each step seemed to sap her of more strength.
“I'm putting your bag in the back seat. You all clipped in?” Dr. Carbonate queried, wiping sweat from her own brow.
“Did… did you call the Nanny to take care of your daughter?” asked Bulma.
“Miss Shasta's taking care of her. Don't worry. Curie's fine. Still fast asleep. As soon as I get you to the hospital I'll give her a shout and she'll bring my daughter over,” said Dr. Carbonate. Bulma nodded, knowing that she was in reality hard pressing another young mother, but Polly jamming down on the accelerator banished that thought with the whine of the engine. Bulma breathed deeply, counting the seconds till her next contraction.
“I hope it's not a false alarm,” Bulma apologized. “Like the last two times.”
“Don't you worry about that. We'll get you to the birthing center, you'll see,” Polly promised. The faintest bands of purple were just turning a lighter blue with the onset of dawn amidst the spires of West City. On the way they passed the large general hospital, and then hung a left towards a more nondescript building.
Bulma knew why. Inside was a special doctor, trained to handle any emergency for her special case. They would not tell her parents where she had been. As oblivious as they were, she knew that they would be furious for her hiding a prospective grandson. Still, she couldn't take any chances, and Dr. Carbonate had her instructions about who to call, and when.
They pulled into the waiting area, and Bulma was surprised to see two uniformed medical staff bringing out a wheelchair for her. Turing to her friend she accused, “Wait, you said this was discrete!”
“I called them to let them know to expect you. Don't worry…” said Polly, pulling the brake. She opened her door and rushed around to get Bulma's, but the first orderly had reached the handle first.
“Miss Briefs?” he asked. “Dr. Carbonate called. Is there anyone else you want to inform?”
“You want to call your parents yet?” asked Polly Carbonate, grabbing the overnight bag. She hovered nearby watching the two personnel in white smocks helping Bulma to sit. Again she groaned, holding her midsection.
“You'll have to wait here,” said the one orderly.
“She… she's a friend,” gasped Bulma.
“I called for heaven's sake!” Dr. Carbonate snapped, pushing the first young orderly aside.
“She knows,” said the smocked female, which Bulma realized was Dr. Iodine.
She pushed the male orderly to grab the handles of the wheelchair and push it as fast as possible into the front. Past the security point they all hurried, moving Bulma through a long white hallway blurred with blue labeling on the walls. Very few people moved about in this place, unlike a traditional hospital. Anyone she did see were more personnel wearing the high collared buttoned smocks the first two orderlies sported. More of them clustered around, helping to lift her out of the chair and into a gurney.
“I'm fine,” Bulma gasped. Then pain shot through her, and she felt the intervals shorten. All she could do was groan loudly, gripping the nearest orderly's arm.
“Will you want an epidural?” asked Dr. Iodine.
“God YES,” groaned Bulma. She passed out in the next wave of contractions lacing her abdomen and belly with fire.

Soon Bulma was screaming her pain in a birthing suite, her friend at her side, and a nervous three year old left in the care of Bulma's nanny. Miss Shasta was paid enough not to question her employers, and diligently cared for Dr. Carbonate's two year old while both women disappeared into the hospital maternity ward. Now wearing a smock like everyone else's, Polly helped position her friend on her side while they slid the needle into Bulma's back. She felt the numbing relief, and fought back the tears.
“It's for real,” Bulma joked weakly.
“I'd say so. Just relax. We've got a long time ahead since it's your first,” Polly nodded, squeezing Bulma's hand. Nodding her thanks, Bulma then let herself be rolled to that awkward position with both feet placed in two stirrups. Ahead lay fifteen hours of blinding pain only relieved by that thick needle that had been poked into her spine.
“Vegeta, I wish you were here,” she whispered through the surges of each contraction.
“I am here,” whispered his voice in her ear. “And you will be fighting hard for him.”
“Vegeta,” she murmured in relief.
“Who's she talking to?” asked Dr. Iodine, standing to Bulma's left.
“Bulma, stay with us,” Dr. Polly Carbonate urged.
Shaking her head, Bulma lay back to again rest. She felt the touching stir of her Saiyan brushing through her thoughts, and knew he had seen or sensed was about to come. Behind her temple she heard him speak once more, “Get on with it, Bulma. Have the brat all ready!”
“What do you think I'm doing?” Bulma shouted aloud.
“That's it, get mad! You're going to HAVE this baby! It's coming!” Polly shouted in her ear. Bulma squeezed her friend's hand tightly, then whimpered Vegeta's name.
“Bulma, be brave. Fight for our son,” Vegeta said. “You'll see me soon. And what I've achieved!”
“Vegeta…” Bulma again shouted, pushing hard with all her might.
“That's it, another good push!” shouted Polly. Hot blood pounded in Bulma's ears, drowning out the beeping of the stats monitor and the whoosh of her breath.
“I can see the head!” shouted Dr. Iodine, reaching between Bulma's legs. “One more good push Bulma!”
Half screaming Bulma bit her tongue, squeezing deathly tight on Polly's hand. She was sure it would be black and blue, but the scientist held her own grunt of pain. Eyes pressed tightly shut, and Bulma mustered everything. Yet through it all, Vegeta was suddenly gone. For that moment she felt alone once more. Anger surged and she screamed loudly with the last contraction.
“That's it!” laughed Dr. Iodine.
“You did it Bulma! You did it!” Polly laughed. Bulma gasped, tears again blurring her eyes, coupled with the sensation of something slithering out of her which was warm and wet and alive. A shape was removed, and she found herself sobbing.
“Where is he? Where's my son!”
Deep blue eyes fixed into everyone's faces, and then the youth had screamed its outrage to the cold delivery room. Dr. Polly Carbonate dabbed sweat from her friend's face as Bulma reached out with both arms to hold the child. Glancing down Bulma saw the red face scrunched in a yawn, and then two blue eyes the same shade as hers blinking in confusion. A small hand reached up and grabbed a length of her own hair. All she saw through the cap they pulled over his head was a fuzz of lavender.
“Trunks… hi there little guy! You put your mom through hell,” Bulma laughed, suddenly sobbing like a baby herself. Arms wrapped around him and she held the small bundle of life close. Just under her chin Trunks lay his head and breathed softly. All thoughts of Vegeta vanished, and Bulma felt the warmth of her son seeping into her once cold body.
“Excuse me, but what name should we put on the certificate? I know it's confidential…” Dr. Iodine asked, holding a clipboard.
“His name is Trunks,” Bulma said, snapping her eyes open. She struggled to sit up, feeling sticky with blood that they tried to clean up.
“Trunks Briefs,” said Dr. Carbonate. “Good name.”
“Dr. Carbonate, your daughter's waiting outside,” said another voice.
“Go on, I'm fine. And please… call my parents!” Bulma pleaded, to Dr. Carbonate's torn look.
“If that's what you want, then you've got it. You did GREAT!” Dr. Carbonate laughed, letting herself be led out to the lobby where Curie was patiently waiting.

Hours later, both Briefs raced into the center. A hurried chat with Dr. Iodine confirmed what had happened. Apparently Bulma wasn't the only one who knew about the special organization responsible for the entire operation. Dr. Briefs himself had top level clearance, havign provided many of the inventions they used. A pity that Bulma did not know her own father was a member of the very organization devoted to keeping the half saiyan pregnancy discrete. Yet they had no time to tell him the nature of the child because he stormed in yelling for his daughter.
“I can't BELIEVE she had a CHILD all along and didn't TELL us! What was she THINKING?” Dr. Briefs snapped.
“Dear you know I was right! A woman's intuition is never wrong!” Bunny Briefs cooed, grabbing her husband's arm.
“Oh great,” Bulma groaned, holding Trunks closer to her breast. Dr. Carbonate snapped her head up from where she was sitting next to a small girl with light lavender hair.
“Mommy?” the toddler asked.
“Here they are,” Dr. Carbonate said.
“Might as well let them in,” Bulma nodded. Repositioning Trunks at her breast she draped the blanket over her shoulder to hide her bare torso. Dr. Carbonate set Curie down in the playpen to the left of Bulma's private hospital bed and went over to open the door.
Behind it stood Dr. and Mrs. Briefs, both wearing different expressions. Dr. Brief's face creased with anger while his wife hid her open mouth behind her hand. They pushed past Dr. Carbonate and rushed into the small room to see their only daughter lying there with something in her arms.
“Just WHAT is the MEANING OF this young lady?” Dr. Briefs spluttered. His moustache twitched, then his eyes widened to golf ball size behind his glasses to see a baby with bright blue eyes staring up at him.
“Mom, Dad, this is your new grandson. Trunks Briefs,” Bulma said, holding the baby up to her excited mother. Taking a bottle of breast milk that lay to one side, she passed it after her mother scooped Trunks into her own arms.
“Ohhh BULMA! He's adorable!” Mrs. Briefs cooed, clapping her hands.
“Princess, why didn't you say something!” Dr. Briefs spluttered, flopping down into a chair. He reeled with the dizziness of it all. He was finally a grandfather.
“But she did! I knew you were having a baby! Why didn't you tell your mommy and daddy, Princess! We were worried SICK! If I didn't get a call from your friend once in a while…”
“You told them?” Bulma snapped, glaring at Dr. Carbonate.
“I didn't!” Dr. Carbonate protested. “I only called them and told them what you wanted!”
“Then who?” asked Bulma, glaring at her mother.
“Your boyfriend of course!” Dr. Briefs shouted. Trunks started to cry, pumping his little fists despite his grandmother's efforts at swinging him back and forth. Bulma reached for the baby again, and her mother wheeled around to glare at her husband.
“My what?” Bulma stammered.
“I presume he's the baby's father!” Dr. Briefs grunted.
“But that's not possible; he said he wasn't coming back till…” Bulma confirmed, shivering from head to toe.
Just inside the doorway another shape loomed, peeking in. Bulma tensed in fear, seeing a face she hadn't glimpsed in ages. Dr. Carbonate wrung her hands, moving close to her daughter as Dr. Briefs pressed his hand to his head.
“I presume this is partly your doing, young man?” dr. Briefs snapped, pointing his finger at the tall man with spiky dark hair. Brown eyes took in the sight of Bulma as the forgotten figure strode in and blinked down at Bulma.
“Oh man, Bulma… he's… wow…” gasped a familiar voice.
“Oh crap,” Bulma groaned, blinking up at him. “Yamcha… how the HELL did you find me?”
“I've been watching you babe! You could have told me, you know!” Yamcha protested, his scarred face crumpled with worry.
“But… but…” Bulma stammered. “How could you possibly know?”
“It's okay, Doc. I'm here now,” yamcha said as he turned around at the furious Doctor who had suddenly pushed his way to shaky feet.
“You… you've a lot of explaining to do, Mr. Yamcha!” Dr. Briefs shouted, with his face the color resembling a radish, and his hair sticking out just like the leafy top.
“But he doesn't look much like you,” Mrs. Briefs whispered, wringing her hands. She glanced anxiously back and forth from her husband to Yamcha, and then back to Bulma. Groaning, Bulma clutched her baby tightly, trying to shush him from howling his lungs out.
“Mom, Dad it isn't what you think!” Bulma shouted.
“Everyone calm down!” Yamcha suddenly exploded. “Dude, that baby's scared! We shouldn't be screaming!”
Shocked, both parents snapped their mouths shut, and Dr. Carbonate drew in her breath sharply. Tears gleamed in Bulma's eyes, but she fought them back. Angrily she brushed them away and glared up at her erstwhile boyfriend. “Yamcha… thank you," she panted, barely restraining her temper.
“It's okay Bulma,” he said quietly. “Maybe I should take your dad out for a cup of coffee while you and your mom chat?”
“I… this is…” Dr. Briefs wheezed, holding his chest. Yamcha extended a hand and gently guided the older man out despite his stammering.
“But Yamcha… you idiot!” Bulma shouted.
“Bulma, trust me,” he said, glancing over his shoulder. “It's better this way.”
“But I didn't ask you to…” Bulma stammered.
“It's all right honey. You can tell me the truth,” Bunny whispered, pressing her finger to Bulma's lips. Glancing at her furious husband she said, “Go with him dear. Bulma and I need to talk woman to woman.”
“All… all right, but this talk isn't over young lady!” Dr. Briefs snapped at Bulma. She winced and felt the soft touch of her mother's hand. Dr. Carbonate picked up Curie, who was whimpering at the shouting as much as Trunks had been before. Yamcha held a finger to his lips and guided Dr. Briefs out with a hand on his arm.
“Oy,” Dr. Carbonate sighed.
“Dr. Carbonate, why don't you go home sweetie?” Mrs. Briefs said gently, turning to her.
“Go home. It's okay. I'll call you later,” Bulma sighed, nodding at her concerned friend. Dr. Carbonate nodded, and went over to hug Bulma and Trunks goodbye. Carrying Curie on her hip she grabbed her purse and exited the room. The door clicked shut leaving Bulma alone with her mother.
***

Trunks meets the Briefs ( Chapter 12 ) Trunks meets the Briefs ( Chapter 12 ) Reunion ( Chapter 14 ) Reunion ( Chapter 14 )


Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Ball Z, it belongs to Toei Animation Co. Ltd. and was created by Akira Toriyama. However the Oc's Bakelite, Polly Carbonate, Curie, Infrared and Melmac are mine as is the plot of this fan fiction. It means no harm to the awesome anime and manga! I make no money from this!
Chinks in the Armor
Facing Facts
Out in the lobby Dr. Briefs sulked silently. Seated across from Yamcha he said nothing to the young Z warrior who cupped his own hands around a small mug of expresso. Down into the cup the former desert hyena peered, seeking desperately the reasons for what had just transpired. If only Bulma had told him what was going on he could have helped her.
"You know how it is. Once Bulma's made up her mind, Kami help anyone who gets in her way," Yamcha said.
"You think I don't know my own daughter, young man!" griped Dr. Briefs, narrowing blue eyes behind his thick glasses. Due to the strength of his prescription they magnified his eyes to the dimensions of an intent owl rather then an absent minded professor.
Yamcha however would not be intimidated by someone he knew for the last ten years. After all, he had lived a good amount of his life at Capsule as Bulma's on and off again boyfriend. Only months ago he had disappeared into his desert retreat to train for the androids with the help of Puar. Unfortunately the last time he had seen Bulma face to face he knew something was up when she threw the flowers back in his face. Had his suspicions been true? Yet Yamcha only needed to look at the boy once to know it wasn't his.
How it hurt. Yet his affection and love for Bulma melted any desire for revenge. All he ever wanted was to make her happy. Now was his chance to be her hero; the charming man who would sweep her off her feet and tell her everything was all right. Then he snapped his attention to the matter at hand: convincing an angry father that he would take care of Bulma's future. Most likely they had no clue who the father was.
So drawing in a starting breath he coughed, "Dr. Briefs, sir. You don't need to worry about Bulma. I mean she's in good hands."
"She's a big girl. And she seems to have made it VERY clear she doesn't need Daddy to bail her out!" Dr. Briefs lamented. He swallowed a mouthful of coffee as equally biter as his mood.
"I know it hurts, but I watched her, for what it was worth," said Yamcha. "Why do you think I came and tried to make peace a while ago? I put two and two together, and figured she must be pregnant."
"Then why in HELL didn't you tell me sooner! I'm her father!" Dr. Briefs slammed his fist on the table. Coffee cups rattled.
Yamcha exhaled, and then leaned forward. "Because maybe she thought you would just accept it like you do everything ELSE in her life?"
"And what does THAT mean?" Dr. Briefs demanded.
"Face it sir. When she went off to Namek you didn't seem worried about what she went through. But I watched almost every moment! She fought for her LIFE! And the least you could have done was held her and patted her back! Did it ever dawn on you she needed her Daddy then? And maybe now she's figuring she needs to go it on her own because she knew you couldn't be bothered?" Yamcha ranted. He could not stop the angry string of words. All the time on King Kai's planet he had seen Bulma's trials, unable to help in his frustration.
"You are out of line, young man!" Dr. Briefs retorted.
"Yeah well maybe I am. But you know what? Bulma always came to me when she needed a shoulder. Because you and mommy dearest weren't there. You were too busy worrying about your latest gizmo, and she was hung up on finding something to wear! Where were you two when King Piccolo was going to blow up the world, huh? Bulma called you for HOURS and all you did was hang up on her!" Yamcha continued.
"You can talk! Where were YOU all these months when the child needed his FATHER?" Dr. Briefs shouted back. Both men gripped the sides of the table, staring each other down in their verbal sparring. Dr. Polly Carbonate stood at the periphery of the battle unseen. Shaking her head yet again she took her daughter's hand and decided it was best to butt out. She had done her part. Now it was up to Bulma to decide who else to let in on her secret. When Bulma needed her, she would be there.
"You're right. I deserved that," Yamcha held up a hand. "But we both let her down. She shuts people out. Remember how stubborn she is?"
"She was always like that," Dr. Briefs sighed. Shoulders hunched over as he grabbed his coffee for a shred of warmth.
"Well the kid's born. Now you're a grandpa. Isn't that worth something? Can't we forget this for Bulma's sake?" asked Yamcha.
"Fine. For the sake of my little Princess I'll forgive you. Provided you step up and be a man. I suppose the fact you're here means you're serious," said Dr. Briefs. He reached over and held out his hand. Yamcha nervously took it, wondering if he was doing the right thing. Was Dr. Briefs blind? Or was it just wishful thinking. It was so easy to pretend that baby was his. Perhaps it could wait till the blood test, Yamcha decided. Right now they needed him. Bulma would probably want it kept a secret. He could feel it in his bones, and knew Bulma would tell when she was ready. How well he knew her. Firmly he shook Dr. Brief's hand and the two of them nodded.
"Will you be marrying her then?" asked Dr. Briefs.
"I… I mean… well… if she wants it," Yamcha nodded.
"Good man. Now let's go see the future heir to my company," Dr. Briefs laughed cheerfully. He slapped Yamcha on the shoulder. Both men rose from their table and wandered back to the room. Inside Yamcha felt hollow and sick at himself for the white lie. Sooner or later Vegeta would return, and he would have to face the truth. Or would he?
"Darn you Vegeta. I guess you got to my girl before I did. Joke's on me," Yamcha told himself. "But I swear if you ditch the kid, you'll answer to me and Goku!"
***
Back in Bulma's room, both mother and daughter took turns tending to Trunks. Now Mrs. Briefs held the sleeping baby in her arms while sitting in the large corner rocking chair. He snuggled into his grandmother's sizable bosom and stuck his tiny thumb into a cherubic mouth. Bunny reached into her purse and pulled out a small black knit cap. Bulma watched her mother tug the hospital cap off and replace it with the second.
"Mom, what's that for?"
"IT looks so cute on him, doesn't it?" she asked. "I always told myself if I had a son he'd wear this because he'd be such a handsome devil!"
"If you only knew," Bulma inhaled.
"What? It's obvious this little man looks JUST as handsome as his father," Bunny Briefs giggled.
"Mom, I have to tell you something, and it's gotta remain a secret," Bulma gulped.
"What, that your young man's coming back soon? I'm sure he'll want to see his son before he fights those awful nasty robots!" Bunny reasoned. It was odd to see her so on top of things, and for Bulma it was a frightening prospect. How could the reality escape her father and dawn so easily on her normally ditzy mother whose days were consumed with the pursuit of high fashion and what tea cakes to serve?
"I guess you know that Yamcha's not the father," sighed Bulma.
"He looks nothing like this handsome young Prince," Bunny sniffed. "It's so obvious he has his father's brow and face shape. Though he looks a lot like your father did when he was young."
"I'm sorry Mom. I guess you're sharper then I thought," Bulma admitted shyly.
"I may not be a super genius like you and your father, but I do know faces. I've seen and heard how you and Vegeta make love. You beat me to him, and it's only fair. Now he's given you a beautiful son! But when are you two getting married?"
"Mom, I don't' want to get married," Bulma blurted out. Bunny blinked at her with surprised blue eyes.
"Why ever not? My goodness you have to!"
"Because it would ruin everything. He's such an arrogant prick. And besides, all he cares about right now is fighting the androids. The last thing he needs is to worry about a wife and kid," Bulma explained.
"Nonsense!"
"Would you want him underfoot? Why all he'd do would be bitch and complain and rant that we're distracting him. He said so himself!" Bulma snapped.
"Oh dear," Mrs. Briefs murmured, rocking back and forth more vigorously. "He must be more worried about you two then you thought. I mean he's probably just saying those things to scare you when he really cares enough to keep you safe."
"Are you kidding me, mom?" Bulma laughed harshly.
"He's going off to war. Of course he has to be away. I suppose a wedding will have to wait," Mrs. Briefs sighed. "But what will the neighbors think?"
"I'll just tell them I wanted to have a kid before I got too old. So I used a sperm bank?" Bulma shrugged.
"That's not true!"
"Well it might as well be. Besides I want to keep it a secret. I don't' want everyone worrying about me and Vegeta. Because there is no 'us'."
"Whatever you want dear. But what if he comes back?"
"I'll worry about it when it happens then," Bulma decided. Bunny handed Trunks back to her daughter, and Bulma gently swayed back and forth in her own bed.
A few minutes later, Dr. Polly Carbonate knocked on the door. After Bulma told her it was all right to enter, she orbited the room nervously. By now, Bulma had managed to get Trunks to quietly nurse at her chest. Although she managed to get the hang of it, she was chapped and sore. Not to mention having her friend regarding her with odd looks wasn't helping her nerves.
"What?" Bulma asked.
Glancing back and forth Dr. Polly Carbonate then narrowed the gap between her and Bulma so she stood only six inches away. In a low voice she demanded, "I saw your dad and Yamcha talking. I just want to know if you're NUTS or are you SERIOUS?"
“Shush!” Bulma held a finger to her lips. She readjusted her hold on Trunks so he could more effectively nurse.

“What if the baby's father comes back? If he finds out that Yamcha claims he's the father don't you THINK he'll be pissed?” Dr. Polly Carbonate whispered.

“Serve him right for leaving me,” Bulma griped, glaring up at Polly Carbonate.

In response Dr. Polly Carbonate widened her eyes and backed away. She shook her head for a full moment, trying to wrap her brain around Bulma's reasoning which made no logical sense. Nevertheless in the language of emotion it rang very true and extremely clear. Crossing her arms over her chest she sat down in the chair Bunny occupied a half hour before. She huffed, “Bulma, that's bull and you know it! You said that you could hear his voice!”

“He could train here,” Bulma answered, focussing her total gaze on Trunks rather then her friend. "And how did you know about me hearing ANYTHING!"

"Because, I can put two and two together. Have you forgotten you told me about your 'steamy encounters' where you claim you could feel him making love to you, even though he wasn't there?" laughed Polly Carbonate harshly. "Come on, you DID tell me that, or are you going to deny it?"

At these words, Bulma felt the hot rush of blood swarming under her skin. She just knew she had turned bright pink because Polly Carbonate smirked in triumph, "Aha! That proves it. And still it doesn't it OCCUR to you that he WANTS this baby, and has every intention of being involved in its life?

Bulma spluttered, "You… you don't know anything! It's just a quick lay! Besides I thought you were on MY side!”

"Side? Who said there is a side? Bulma, I'm your friend! I've been right next to you this whole time. Believe me I have nothing but you and the baby in mind. But don't you realize we all might be in danger?" Polly Carbonate protested.

"Duh, I know the androids are an issue! Capsule thanks to you and me has been working nonstop on preventive measures," Bulma countered. Back and forth from his mother to Polly Carbonate Trunks glanced. If not for the fact he was nursing he would be whimpering. Just what these two women argued about he had little idea, but Trunks squirmed uncomfortably from the emotions he picked up on.

"I'm not talking about that. I'm thinking about ALL of us. Vegeta isn't the sort of man you cross. I mean he almost DID blow up this planet! And don't you think he'll be PISSED when he returns to find Yamcha hanging around and your parents thinking this is HIS responsibility!” Dr. Polly Carbonate continued.

Pulling Bulma's breast from his mouth Trunks uttered a loud bawl. Bulma snorted in frustration, “Maybe so, but it's MY choice, lady! You of all people should know about that!"

Lowering the volume of her voice Polly Carbonate continued, “It's his baby too. And even though I can't stand Curie's father, she STILL gets to see him on weekends. For the sake of Trunks, you have to get Yamcha out of the picture and straighten this out!”

“And why are you saying that?”

Frustrated Polly Carbonate huffed, “Because, Trunks is half Saiyan. Like it or not, people are going to notice. And with the paranoia surrounding the Androids, people are going to ask questions. The Association might even try to bend rules to find out more about your son. The fact that Gero's inventions have gotten loose…”

“What are you trying to say? I thought they were friends of yours!"

Polly Carbonate held up a hand, cautioning, “Hardly friends. Only a necessity to be used and kept at bay, and appeased."

"So you're saying they might do something? That they're in league with Gero?" Bulma blinked. Trunks whimpered yet did not cry, rocked in his mother's arms. Fortunately the two women continued their argument in more subdued tones that held no less emotion.

"Look, who knows why they do what they do? They could have done something to stop Dr. Gero but they didn't. I'm not sure why they didn't, maybe he eluded even them. But what I'm saying is that Vegeta might be the only one strong enough to protect you, us all from being destroyed. And the LAST thing we need is him against us because of your petty spite!” Polly Carbonate stabbed a finger at her.

“Dammit you're pissing me off!” Bulma snapped through clenched teeth. “You're crossing the line.”

“So are you. Don't come crying to me when Vegeta returns and he's pissed,” Polly Carbonate growled. She leapt up from the chair, turning her back to Bulma. Fists clenched and unclenched at her sides. Bulma humphed also, wrapping her arms more tightly around her baby nursing there. Tense silence predominated, during which Bulma and Polly Carbonate fumed in their emotional stews. Bulma wondered why Polly Carbonate bothered to stay if she was so angry. What right did she have to judge Bulma anyhow?

Finally Polly Carbonate broke the silence. Only slightly turning her head she mumbled, "Bulma, I'm your friend. Even though I'm extremely pissed, I'm sorry to be preaching to you. Can we just… I don't want you to shut me out because we don't see eye to eye on…"

"You don't get it. I thought you'd understand…" Bulma plaintively sniffled.

"I am trying to. When Curie's father… finally came back he… I found out that he had found another woman. And you know the first thing he did?"

"What?" Bulma grunted.

"He wanted his daughter Curie. Even though he could give a damn less about me, he thought first of his daughter. And even if Vegeta might seem an inhuman monster, the fact is he KNOWS about his son. And he took the effort to reach across space in whatever way to pay attention. He didn't have to do that," Polly Carbonate pointed out.

"So?"

"So? Bulma, don't you get it? You shut him out. I heard you calling his name when you were in labor. And if he comes back and you continue to shut him out, that might be the one thing that keeps him from wanting to win this fight," Polly Carbonate reasoned.

"He wants to defeat the androids and prove he's stronger than Goku. He told me that was his primary goal," Bulma softly answered.

"Maybe so, but from all you've told me, he said that this was what he left you, didn't he?"

"He said that the baby would be here when he couldn't be," Bulma admitted, embarrassed. Recalling the exact words brought back uncomfortable feeling she fought hard to suppress.

"So don't you think you owe it to yourself to at least tell your parents Yamcha isn't the father? Or are you so ashamed that you'd hide behind him? Isn't it better just to admit the truth? I mean they are your parents and now's not the time for…"

"But my friends…" Bulma protested. Polly Carbonate moved close to the bed, and leaned over to wrap an arm around Bulma. The two of them embraced, careful not to squish Trunks between them.

"If they're your friends they'll accept it no matter what. I accept it, and I'm still here," said Polly Carbonate, drawing back.

"True. Look, can you do me a favor?" asked Bulma.

"Anything, name it," Polly Carbonate nodded.

"Get my father and mother in here? Tell them I have to get some more things off my chest?" Bulma responded.

"Sure," Polly Carbonate nodded, guessing what Bulma was about to do. Eagerly she reached for the doorknob, and then exited. Silently she prayed that Bulma would relent and set the record straight. Suddenly she slammed into Dr. Briefs and Yamcha who had been standing by the door the whole time.

"Excuse me," she said, tiptoeing back. Bulma let out a gasp to see that her father had stood there the entire time. Had he heard their discussion? Judging from the look of anger crossing Yamcha's face, she knew the answer.

"Dr. Polly Carbonate," Dr. Briefs grunted. "Excuse me."

"Bulma, you… I told you to trust me!" Yamcha snapped.

"Daddy, how long were you standing there?" Bulma cried.

Dr. Briefs marched into the room, his hands stuffed into his pockets. He asked, "Bulma, you could have told me the truth. You honestly expect that I wouldn't understand?"

Sad eyes regarded her from behind thick glasses. Yamcha heaved in deep breaths in an attempt to squelch his rising tide of anger. Energy crackled around his body, almost tangible. Dr. Polly Carbonate could not stop herself from darting in and grabbing Yamcha's wrist. She hissed into his ear, "You'd better tone it down. You don't want to let off any ki in here or else…"

"Let go of me," Yamcha growled, twisting his wrist in her grasp. Strangely tightly her fingers dug into his shoulder, pulling him back.

"Leave them alone, you've done enough harm," Polly Carbonate gritted.

"Yamcha, I think you'd better go," Dr. Briefs glared at the young warrior.

"But Bulma," Yamcha spluttered, not wanting to hit a woman. Nevertheless he was sorely tempted to shrug off Bulma's annoying friend and push her hard.

"Yamcha, this isn't your battle to fight. You'd better go now," Bulma gulped.

"Fine, if that's the way you want it," Yamcha growled. Shaking his head, he glared at Polly Carbonate clinging to his arm. Promptly the scientist released her hold and stepped back. With one last gaze at Bulma Yamcha stormed off, cursing under his breath.

"Good riddance," Dr. Polly Carbonate whispered.

On the sidelines, Bunny timidly poked her head around the door at that moment. Seeing things were at least sane she nudged her way beside Polly Carbonate to stand in the doorway. Both of them watched the scene unfold. Sitting next to his daughter's bed, Dr. Briefs rested his hand on his daughter's bedspread.

"Sweetheart, it was Vegeta all along?" said he. Bulma's nod confirmed this.

Bunny held a finger to her lips, nudging Dr. Polly Carbonate back.

"Maybe you'd better go home? Your nanny's sitting with your daughter, and I'm sure she's missing her mommy," whispered she. Dr. Polly Carbonate nodded, and then departed.

Bunny then entered the room, drawing the door shut behind her with a soft click. Still she maintained a safe distance during her husband and daughter's discussion. Trunks snuggled into her arms more securely, reassured that the whirlpool of emotions centered on him had at last calmed. In halting words Bulma told her parents the entire story. She owed them that much at least because she would need their support in the months ahead.

***

Far above earth, a spherical ship bashed its way through the upper layers of the atmosphere. Etched on the side of the glowing metal orb were the words, "Capsule 4." Multiple scorch marks and dents bore witness to the traveler's difficult journey. Even small pinholes had been melted and patched with ki in places. Inside the lone passenger guided his ship to the only home he had known since Freeza's demise.

Tensely black eyes regarded the expanding landscape spread beneath his craft. Gi and armor torn in dozens of places stretched over his muscular body. Sensing the door slamming down on his mental rapport with Bulma, Vegeta knew he had to return to earth, and fast. In the months of his trip, Vegeta had grown accustomed to their nightly astral lovemaking. There was not a moment that would not pass that he could not sense her feelings in part if he chose. Instead he devoted all his energy to achieving his goal of the Legendary.

Now he had to prove to the Woman that he would triumph. The last thing he needed was for her to be dead or worse. Sensing nothing confirmed his worst concerns: either Bulma couldn't respond or wouldn't. He would see form himself just why she had the audacity to push the Prince from her thoughts. Nobody dismissed the Prince of All Saiyans so lightly and got away with it.

As the ship plummeted earthwards, Vegeta heard the faint whistling of air thickening around. The louder the whine increased in volume meant the closer he reached the ground, and Bulma. A blinking navigation console bleeped frantically while the Prince twisted the joystick on a straight course to land. The last time he had crashed down at Capsule Mrs. Briefs had withheld her good cooking for almost two weeks. Only Bulma's barbecue had saved him from a fortnight of indigestion.

Gracefully this time, Capsule 4 extended its landing struts and hit the ground with only a jarring rumble. Smoke belched from its cooling engines, heralding his return. Only a hundred feet from the main dome Vegeta had parked the craft with no more incident then singed lawn under the bottom of his ship. Just outside the compound, the departing figure of a dark haired woman stopped in her tracks. She trembled from head to toe at the implications. On the way to her car she froze fast in place, waiting to see who would exit. Smoke had drifted between her and the driveway, blocking her view of where she was. Curiosity or insanity drove her to rush over to the ship and see if the Prince indeed had returned.

As before the hatch spun open, followed by the drop of the entrance ramp. Down the gangway marched the battered and triumphant figure of the Prince, his armor shattered yet still clinging to his torn gi. He sensed ki everywhere except directly in front of him. Just why he could not sense the life force of the trembling figure creeping within inches of the gangway he could not fathom. Yet he recognized the female as one of Bulma's scientists. She had told him just who was responsible for the replication of his armor's dense material from Freeza's original designs.

Vegeta flipped upwards, and then dropped on booted feet ten paces from the nervous scientist. Her dark purple hair fluttered in the residual smoke of the dying engines. Her mouth was opened wide as her eyes rounded behind her glasses.

"It'… it's you… P… prince Vegeta," she gasped. "Oh crap…"

"Explain yourself, slave," Vegeta grunted. "Where is the woman?"

Primal fear surged in her at the terrible gaze in his inhuman eyes. They pierced her soul, finding her wanting and reminding her she was a frail flea in comparison to his Saiyan might. Try as she might she could not turn and run in fear. Automatically she dropped to her knees before him. This caught Vegeta off guard, yet pleased him. At least this woman knew the proper obeisance due a Prince.

"You… you're looking for Bulma Briefs, right?" Dr. Polly Carbonate stammered.

"Correct slave woman. Where is she?"

"She… she's inside with your… her… baby," Dr. Polly Carbonate answered.

"Why can't I sense your energy?" Vegeta demanded, seizing her chin. Automatically she dropped to her knees.

"Sir… please…" she stammered, feeling the viselike grip of his gloved hand. He pushed her chin back and grunted. He owed this particular human a favor for constructing his new armor, and he would not have disintegrated her. Plus she had been smart enough to bow in his presence, something that insured her continued survival.

"That will do. Inform her that I am back. And tell Bulma's mother to have food and a bath ready. Immediately," Vegeta ordered. Releasing her chin he stepped back.

"Yes sir…" Dr. Polly Carbonate gasped. Relieved she was alive she darted back to the compound. Vegeta snickered in amusement. Humans were too easy to torment. Still he was troubled by the lack of any ki. Perhaps her energy was too feeble to even register, he told himself. This woman was that weak, Vegeta snickered. Little matter. There were more important things to attend to.