Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Chinks in the Armor ❯ Trunks meets the Briefs ( Chapter 12 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

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, 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!

Four months passed in the blink of an eye. For Bulma's best friend it had been filled with helping the VP of Capsule get used to being a single mother. 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.