Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Cold Comfort for Bulma ❯ A surprise or 2 ( Chapter 15 )

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

Cold Comfort
Disclaimer: I don’t own Dragon Ball Z. Toriyama does. But I do own the idea for this fanfiction. IT means no harm to the series and I’m not getting any money for this. I’m trying for a cannon approach here like I am with a Taste of Heat. So without further ado, here’s the next installment.

A Surprise or Two

By Trynia Merin
***

Bulma shivered and clung to Vegeta's arm. Grumbling the Prince carried her towards the waiting ambulance. While he was embarrassed to show such physical closeness to her, he didn't want to lose track of his newfound concubine. The woman was very good in bed, and he was anxious to sate his sexual hunger. Plus she knew his weaknesses and he didn't want anyone to exploit them in her fragile state. So just before the back of the open ambulance he stood with her in his arms, staring bloody murder at the paramedic. Vegeta refused to leave her, and Bulma clutched tightly to his hand.

Frustrated the paramedic said, "I'm sorry sir..."

"Don't make him leave! He... he's my significant other," she blurted out.

"This true sir?"

"Humph, if it's any of your damn business she is my woman, idiot," he grumbled. Bulma blushed bright red at the frank admission, while Vegeta grumbled under his breath. The man gave him a strange look, blinking oddly at him till Vegeta fixed him in a dark eyed stare.

"Sure... sure, let's just get her to the hospital," the man said.

"Do you wish to go, woman?" Vegeta grumbled.

"Yes. I think I'd be safer there. But I want you to come, Vegeta, please?" she shivered.

"Fine, whatever, but I ride with the woman. She won't shut up otherwise," Vegeta coughed.

"Just put her on the stretcher please sir..." the paramedic coaxed.

"Vegeta, please, it's better that way. I know you hate me hanging on you in public," she urged.

"You've got a point. I hate pdas, they are so... disgusting," Vegeta nodded. He gently set her onto the gurney, then watched the medics every movement like a hawk. When he was satisfied they weren't going to kill her; he let them pull the stretcher inside the gaping maw of the back.

"You can ride here sir," the paramedic pointed. Vegeta leapt lightly up and sat opposite the stretcher. Bulma reached for his gloved hand, squeezing it tightly. Sighing, the Prince allowed her this small display to demonstrate to the idiots that they were 'sex partner's. He would have used that term, but figured they would get the message because he wasn't about to explain his private business beyond what was necessary.

A quick ambulance trip later found Vegeta being urged to sit by a temporary bed waiting for the doctors to check her out. Metal rings rasped on the metal bars of the curtain being drawn around to create a private space in the huge ER. All around them chattered the noise of medics and patients in various stages of injury. Vegeta smelled the iron taint of human flesh, accustomed to it and the charred smell of nearby burn victims. Others from the accident were whisked in with them. Bulma had insisted on a normal hospital rather then be treated like a VIP since her paranoia was rampant. Vegeta's bodysuit and armor marked him as a strange target, but one glare would stifle any comments. His presence seemed reassuring to the shocky shivering heiress lying on the bed.

"I'm just glad Goku isn't here," she mumbled.

"Don't mention that weaklings name in my presence Woman!" Vegeta snorted, still letting her grip his gloved hand. Across from him, an orderly thrust a thin needle into Bulma's inner elbow. Long tubes snaked from the started needle to an inverted bag filled with saline solution. Vegeta could smell the presence of sugar and other components he tasted in the blood of fresh kill he'd eaten on the battlefield years ago. Not to mention the sweat and grime of the accident clinging to Bulma's body. Despite his energy field, the dust of the billowing smoke had flooded both their clothes with an acrid steely pong of molten metal. His clean white gloves were smudged with some dirt while his boots and breastplate was smirched with a fine gray dust. Vegeta had managed to wipe some of it off with the water nearby.

"Okay sir, I've got the IV started. She'll be fine. I'll just try and get one of the doctor's to look at her..."

"What's wrong with the woman?"

"Just shock. She needs fluids and rest. You can stay here with her while the doctor examines your girlfriend," said the orderly.

"Whatever, just leave us be and go about your business if you're done," Vegeta grunted, inclining his head at the man. He darted out, dragging the curtain around them with the rasp of metal on metal. Bulma blinked up at Vegeta leaning over her bed with his usual frown.

"Thanks for staying," she said.

"How much longer must you stay in this primitive facility? Must we play this charade?" he asked.

"I want whoever it is to think I'm badly hurt," Bulma said. "This must have made the evening news, and whoever tried to hurt me... will be watching I can be sure of!"

"You suspect sabotage. An assassination attempt then," Vegeta nodded. "Not too shabby woman. Although your driving is piss poor, even your skills couldn't result in such a situation."

"HEY!" Bulma yelled up at him. She punched his arm with her free hand, then winced.

"The question is, since you recalled that wench’s name was somehow connected to Kakkarot and the Namekian's driving instructor," Vegeta glowered. "One wonders if they might have divulged something more then they should have..."

"Then she'd be fired for sure! I don't like any of this. Especially since if she has access to legal records if she's a driving instructor! Who knows what else she might pull?" Bulma said. "Thank Kami she's been arrested!"

"You should have let me kill her, woman," Vegeta mumbled.

"Whoever did this it happened before. I didn't use my car till just today, considering what we've been doing the past few days," she said.

"Was it a remote controlled toy, or something else?" he asked. "Because it would have endangered you much sooner. It's been a week since that orgy."

"Vegeta, don't say that!" she blushed.

"It's been seven planetary rotations since you and I mated, female. You owe me after this," Vegeta mumbled.

"Cranky bastard," she mumbled. Her body shivered under the thin blanket. Vegeta snorted at the scrap of cloth. With a moment’s concentration he directed a thin shell of ki around her body. Bulma felt the air around her immediately beginning to warm up to a more comfortable temperature as it had before. Through the fingers of his glove she felt its source, the frowning Prince looming over her. Even though he would hide his reasons for saving her in the premise of getting sexual satisfaction, gut instinct told her it was for a deeper reason. Yet, she knew it was wise to play along with the paramour angle as long as he showed her such regard.

“Just shut up and rest woman,” he grumbled, seeing her eyes droop closed. Soon he realized it was a good time to meditate himself on what his next move would be. There was still a good two years before the Androids were due to come, and he had to keep his priorities in order. Vegeta kept his gloved hand closed around Bulma’s now limp one. Leaning his head down on his breast he closed his eyes and let his mind empty of the surroundings save his sense of ki to alert him to any intrusions.

Mentally Vegeta tracked through the events of the past month. He now had an outlet for his sexual urges in addition to a secure place to train. Yet he knew that he had to keep the woman at a distance so he would not let weak emotions cloud his true purpose. To show his supremacy to Kakkarot once and for all, proving his bloodline was still supreme.

Verbal banter could keep the Woman at arm’s length. In the times that she’d let down her defenses he saw clearly that she was just as reluctant to enter into a long-term relationship as was he. It gave him a sense of relief to slip into that place in her mind she allowed him to come, a small courtyard. They were forming a mental bond as he had anticipated, but he would have to teach her how to keep her thoughts to herself.

He sensed the fear of the future, and the desire to have comfort. Well, physical comfort he could provide, but emotional, he couldn’t. It wouldn’t due to have emotional attachments on this world. What could insure she would stay out of his way, Vegeta wondered? Human females liked to reproduce and have a male care for them. Kakkarot despite his nuisance managed to do what he wished, although he was under the thumb of the Ox King’s daughter.

“I won’t let her control me like that. What could get her off my back when the Androids come,” he wondered. Despite devoting time to her gravity room he would eventually have to train on his own away from any disruptions. A tinkling strain of music intruded, and he blinked up at the COM in annoyance.

“What the HELL is that?” he grumbled, disliking the melody of high music box tones.

“They play that every time a baby is born,” Bulma murmured, turning to look at him with a fond smile.

“Humph, I suppose reproduction is highly valued on this world. Aren’t you afraid that your children will surpass you and set you aside?”

“What do you mean?” Bulma blinked.

“Fine, I suppose you must see for yourself,” he snorted, glaring at her. Letting down his barriers, he allowed Bulma to see something no one else had. It was the only way she could comprehend properly.

He remembered Nappa suggesting the idea of breeding with non-Saiyan to propagate a race of super warriors. At the time Vegeta feared any child of his would be far superior to him. Seeing that half breed Gohan confirmed his suspicions. Then the arrival of the lavender haired boy with Saiyan ki had spooked him. Was this a child to be of Chichi and Kakkarot? He hated to think some punk kid from his rival’s bloodline would surpass him.

“So you’re saying that cause of something you said to that hulking bastard you kept as your bodyguard,” Bulma said quietly.

“I am the Prince. I must be the strongest!”

“Didn’t your father have pride you’d be a Super Saiyan?” Bulma asked. “That makes NO sense. Isn’t it customary for a Prince to want an heir to pass on his kingdom to?”

“Woman, you know as well as I do that Frieza destroyed my world,” he said angrily.

“Then build another,” Bulma said quietly. “That makes logical sense. I can’t imagine YOU not wanting to preserve the mighty Saiyan culture, Vegeta. I mean DUH, you bear your planet’s name, don’t you?”

“Woman, that’s blatantly obvious!” Vegeta snapped at her. “You can’t comprehend!”

“You say I’m stupid and an idiot. You’re an absolute lunkhead,” Bulma stuck her tongue out at him. “When you prove you’re better then Goku, THEN what will you do?”

“I…” Vegeta trailed off, his mouth dropping open. “That’s not for you to question, woman.”

“Maybe you’re scared of your kids being stronger then you, but that’s silly,” Bulma said quietly. Vegeta blushed.

“What of it?” Vegeta glared at her. She gently traced her hand over the cloth of his glove still enclosing her hand. Through the fabric she felt the muscles stiffen.

Bulma smiled at his obstinance. A slight blush came over her cheeks as she looked over at his frowning face. Harrumphing he pulled his hand away from her, and turned to face slightly away from her. That regal bearing came back in force, and she did not fear the mental wall that Vegeta slammed up on their mental link. With a sigh Bulma said, “A child could be an ally. Can you let Goku pass something on without having children of your own? Vegeta, you want to surpass Goku, but you haven’t seen what he’s done here. He’s a father. And that’s a challenge that few men succeed in.”

“You’re ridiculous!” Vegeta glared at her. At least she got his attention again because his eyes snapped like live black coals.

“Do you want people to remember the Royal house or not?” she asked.

“That was why I wanted immortality silly woman,” Vegeta glared at her.

“True, but I don’t see you running to get the Dragon balls now, do I?” Bulma grinned at him. A smirk that echoed his formed over her face, and he saw the deviousness gleaming in her eyes.

“What’s your point?” he grumbled.

“Oh nothing,” Bulma shrugged, seeing the confusion and obstinate wide-eyed glare he tossed her. Uncomfortably she had found the flaw in his whole argument for being, and he hated her for it that moment. His fists clenched in his gloves, yet he fought the urge to blast something. The Woman was right, and she had a point. Yet why did he not want to destroy her? What prompted him to hear her out?

“Fine, say what you mean, Bulma. And be quick about it. I will allow myself to listen to your counsel however idiotic it may be, but don’t waste my time!” he glared at her.

“Okay Vegeta, you can cut the crap,” Bulma waved her hand. To negate all the pretenses between them it seemed, and move onto her point. Vegeta turned the chair to face her, folding his hands on his lap and sitting up with ramrod straight posture. For a moment he appeared like the monarchs of old waiting for the peons to deliver their complaints.

“On Earth, babies represent future. I know Third Class shot babies into space, and it was totally stupid, but you weren’t. And from what you’ve told me, having an heir was paramount. Which was why it strikes me as DAMN strange you haven’t gone about finding a woman to reproduce with… unless you want her to be a Saiyan. And you and I know that Saiyan women… well…” Bulma shrugged. Her eyes were clear and crystalline blue, all silly emotion gone from clouding the pure logic she presented to him now. It wasn’t the Woman, but Bulma Briefs, the scientist who regarded him now. Such a duality in her nature shocked him, because he had only seen the woman, not the Vice President.

“You’re too damn smart,” Vegeta grumbled. Suddenly his eyes widened, a gasp escaping his lips. Like a big bang something alit in his brain, presenting him an answer to his dilemma. A slow smile crept over his features, stopping Bulma in mid sentence.

“What?” she glared at him. “Hey, you ASKED for my opinion, did you change your royal mind now?”

“Woman, you speak not of me, but yourself,” he said slyly. “I’ve seen that most women on this pitiful planet reach a certain age, and desire to reproduce. So you’re just projecting YOUR desires onto me because we’ve had…”

Before he could finish, Bulma’s attention was diverted to the rasping curtain. Head and shoulders of a female doctor pushed through, and she regarded both of them. “Excuse me, Ms. Briefs… I had to run some routine blood tests…”

“What of it? I was talking here!” Vegeta snapped.

“Ah, good, you might want to hear this too, sir! I assume the two of you are involved…” said the Doctor.

“What the hell business is it of y ours?” Vegeta glared at her.

“Your Majesty, chill,” Bulma glared at him. “What does that question have to do with me now?”

“Well, we always do standard blood tests, and well… we just wanted to let you know the results,” said the doctor, nodding to the young male orderly who was flipping through his clipboard of charts.

“What? Will this take long?” Bulma asked.

“Well, your blood sugar is normal, but there are some other indications that you might want to be careful what you do from now on,” said the doctor.

“Why is that?” Vegeta asked. He blinked up at the doctors, not liking the curious looks he was getting.

“Well, that’s why we want to know if you and Mister…”

“Prince Vegeta to you,” he glared at them. “I do not share the ridiculous last name as she does!”

“Sorry… we realize that some people aren’t married when they get such news, and we respect your right to privacy, but you might want to hear this too, if you two are… involved,” the doctor said.

“WHAT?” Bulma and Vegeta glared at the doctor and nurse.

“Well, congratulations, Ms. Briefs, you’re going to have a baby. That’s why we wondered if this gentleman and you were…” trailed off the doctor.

“What the HELL…” Vegeta stammered out, blinking in shock as Bulma’s mouth dropped and her eyes widened.

“A… a baby… I’m going to have a baby…” Bulma stammered. “V… vegeta…”

He turned away for a moment, giving his back to the doctor, nurse and woman. Shock flooded over him that he could not have sensed the ki. Yet he had been so focussed on saving the woman’s life that he had neglected to notice residual ki in the room. Narrowing his eyes he slowly widened his perceptions. Something shimmered higher in Bulma’s proximity. The answer he had been searching for was right under his nose. But what angered him were the sudden implications.

“Sir… sir…”

“Are you sure… is this test accurate?” Bulma asked.

“We’d like to do a Doppler to make sure, and some other tests, with your permission, and…” the doctor stammered, not liking the lack of attention the male was giving them. Vegeta stood up from his chair, and turned around to face them. Across his face was the neutral frown that he gave everyone.

“You say the woman is with child then? She’s going to have a brat?” Vegeta asked, trying to clear the cracking in his voice.

“Yes sir, that’s why we asked your relation to her. Only relatives of the patient are allowed to know such confidential things and if you’re not the father…” trailed off the doctor.

“You say this information is confidential. As in if anyone knows who is not allowed to, there are consequences?” Vegeta asked neutrally. Bulma swallowed hard, her heart thumping for any indication of his reaction. Not a chink appeared in the cold hard exterior; even the shutters on his mind were fully closed.

“Vegeta, they can’t say,” Bulma said. “And you know there’s no other way it could be.”

“Ma’am who is the…” asked the doctor.

“It’s completely confidential. If you’d be willing to take a blood test for paternity…” said the doctor. Vegeta bristled with anger till Bulma interrupted.

“That won’t be necessary. I know who the father is,” Bulma said. “And Vegeta here is my significant other. Anything you tell me can be discussed with him.”

“But ma’am…” the doctor said quietly. Blue eyes met black ones in a challenge, and Vegeta waited for tense seconds as he decided the next words he would or would not say. To claim the child was his was one thing, but Bulma seemed oddly opposed to anyone knowing. Was she willing to keep the nature of their relationship secret, or was she rejecting him as the father?

“Vegeta, the records are confidential,” Bulma repeated, grabbing his arm that rested on the metal railing of her ER bed.

Looking only at Bulma, he blinked. She nodded slowly, and he took a deep breath before angling his gaze to the expectant doctor and orderly. After a moment’s pause he said, “I sired the brat she carries. But there will be consequences if word gets out. I don’t wish anyone to know yet.”

“We’ll respect your privacy. We know your high profile, Ms. Briefs,” said the Doctor, nodding with understanding. “And the damage paparazzi will do. But for legal sake.”

“Do what you will,” said Vegeta quietly. “It is no consequence to me. Provided I am left alone, as well as the woman.”

“Vegeta, nobody has to know,” Bulma said firmly, her eyes meeting his in cold understanding. A small chink appeared in the mental wall, showing visible relief from the Prince’s mind. Her own choked emotions moved more freely, and she exhaled the breath she had been holding.

“Make your arrangements and get out. I need to talk to the woman alone,” Vegeta glared at the two.

“It’s okay, I need a moment,” Bulma said to them. They nodded, leaving the forms they had carried as they drew the curtain again. Tension again rolled between t hem. Vegeta paced a circle around the bed, regarding Bulma with a quizzical gaze.

“You comprehend?” he looked at her quietly, turning on his booted heel.

“I want this baby,” Bulma said. “And if you don’t want people to know, fine. I can deal. I didn’t expect anything more of you anyhow.”

“Good, because there is little else to expect,” he said quietly. “At least at this point. Seems that point you were to make is moot because you’re going to have a brat to care for.”

“Your child too. Or do you want it to be human?” she asked.

“Don’t even toy with me,” he glared at her. “You know as well as I do why this is the way it must be. Does the royalty of your world deign to coddle an infant when there are enemies to fight?”

“You fight your battles Vegeta, and I’ll fight mine,” Bulma said quietly. “But do you want any part of its life or not? If not, tell me now…”

“I cannot say now,” he said, sitting down on the chair and folding his arms across his chest with crossed knees. Not meeting her gaze, he sent her the confusion and anger that warred within him.

“I see,” Bulma said quietly.

“Our arrangement still remains the same,” he coughed, looking her in the eyes once more. That austere regal stare met her own rational one. Her lip quivered only a slight bit as she bit down on it.

“If you don’t want to be a father to it, fine. But tell me now,” she said.

“I sired the brat,” he said quietly. “And it seems that my line will continue. But I have my battles to fight, as you have yours, Bulma. As a scientist you can respect that, can you not?”

“Yes I can, Vegeta. But sooner or later it will want to know…”

“He,” Vegeta corrected. “He will know he’s the son of a Prince. And he will be a warrior far more powerful then Kakkarot’s ilk. This I promise. But no one must know till the time is ripe. And there is almost no time to have such attachments save that which is necessary for survival.”

“I know,” she nodded, quietly as Vegeta stood next to her bed.

“But our arrangement remains the same,” Vegeta repeated, resting a gloved hand on her shoulder. A knot tensing in Bulma’s stomach released, and she reached up to press her hand atop his. Vegeta stiffly stood by her, letting her hand caress the cloth of his glove, and rest her cheek against it. But he did not pull away. Simply he stood by her side, letting her cling to him. After a time he turned and sat down next to her bed as she had done for him. His gloved hand still enclosed her hand as he again warmed her cold body with what he was willing to give of his ki.

“Just be there when he most needs you,” she whispered.

“I can make no promises. But half of his blood is mine,” Vegeta answered. With a faint smile on her face, Bulma fell to sleep at last.