Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ A Friend in Need ❯ Chapter 7

A/N: This chapter is a little mushy, but nyah! I don't care. Neither does Vegeta, although I'm not sure you'd be able to get him to admit to that.

Disclaimer: Nope, don't own it, not making even half a cent on it. You get the drill.


"Vegeta, will you do something for me?"

Vegeta looked up from the food he was eating. She appeared to be quite nervous. "Of course, Bulma, if I can. Come here." He took her hand and guided her down into the chair next to him. "What is it?"

Bulma nibbled at her lip. "I... I wondered if, well, if you think it would be all right if we..." She drew in a deep breath. He'd been so good to her. She didn't want to ruin what they had if he didn't like what she had to say.

"What do you need me to do for you?" Vegeta asked, pushing his food aside so as to indicate that she had his undivided attention. She was definitely nervous about whatever it was she had to say, perhaps even afraid to say it. This displeased him. His mate should never be afraid of him, or to speak of her needs to him. How could he properly care for her otherwise?

"Well, my tummy is starting to show now, and soon everyone will know that I'm pregnant," she began hesitantly.

Vegeta nodded. "Yes, I have observed many pregnant females on this planet," he told her in confirmation. "I have no doubt that soon you will appear as they do." He gave her a crooked little smile and poked her belly gently.

Bulma couldn't hold back a giggle. She loved when he was playful with her, and even more when he showed an acceptance of the baby, as if it were his own child. He'd already confirmed that she was carrying a girl, which had excited her mother to no end. The baby already had dozens of lacy dresses, hats, booties, and everything a little girl could possibly need.

He eyed her assessingly. She seemed pleased, but what she had presented to him didn't make sense. Why would she bring it up? "Does your belly growing larger make you unhappy?"

His question took her off guard. "Well..." Bulma sighed. "I don't want you to think badly of Daddy, but let's just say that he isn't very happy about me having a baby without being married to its father," she murmured uneasily. "Some of his colleagues might get the wrong idea about the way he runs his company when they find out I'm pregnant, and he can't even keep his own daughter under control."

Vegeta frowned. "Your father's colleagues should mind their own affairs," he retorted.

"I know, but..." Bulma trailed off. She looked down at her hands in her lap.

Vegeta's frown deepened. "Bulma, you are my mate. As far as everyone is concerned, you carry my child. I will care for and protect you both with my very life. What does this have to do with anything about your father? Why would anyone be unhappy? Many males have abandoned their mate and offspring, but I have not." He straightened up in his chair, affronted.

Bulma looked up at him and took his hand. "I know you wouldn't," she whispered, reaching up with her other hand to cup his cheek. She placed a kiss on his lips.

"Then, what is the problem, Bulma?" Vegeta asked softly. "You still have not answered my question. What is it that you need me to do for you?" He tilted her chin so that she was looking at him.

Bulma's lips trembled and she placed her hand over his. She sniffled. "Remember how I mentioned being married to my baby's father?"

He nodded. "What does this 'married' mean?" he asked.

"It means a man and woman being legally bound to each other, like my parents are, or like Goku and Chi-Chi are," Bulma explained. "The man and woman become husband and wife in a ceremony. That way, everyone knows that they have pledged their lives to each other and want to be only with each other."

Vegeta grunted thoughtfully as he took in her words. "Ah. So, it appears that taking part in this..."

"Marriage," Bulma prompted.

"Marriage," Vegeta repeated, "is like two Saiyans becoming mates. Is that correct?"

Vegeta had further explained the concept of 'mates' to Bulma, that it was a lasting, life-long bond between Saiyans. It was disgraceful for a mated Saiyan to seek intimacy with another Saiyan. "Yes," she agreed. "Being mates is the closest thing I could compare being married to."

"Then why would you be afraid to approach me on the subject?" Vegeta asked. "We are already mates, and this is obviously a subject of importance to you, both personally and culturally, is it not?"

Bulma nodded. "Yes, it is."

"I want you to stop being afraid to speak to me," Vegeta told her firmly. "I must never be a cause of distress to my mate." He tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. "You can talk to me about anything, you know that."

Bulma smiled at him. He was so different than he had been before, so different than the way he portrayed himself to others. He was a tough guy, but he did have a heart, and a loving one at that. "Okay."

"Good." Vegeta pulled her onto his lap. "This marriage ceremony would please you?"

She nodded. "Yes, it would."

"Then tell me what it is you want."

She smiled again. "I want to marry the man I love. I want us to get married, Vegeta."

A smirk spread over Vegeta's lips. "Then I suppose we should perform this ceremony in a timely fashion, don't you?" he said, a hint of suggestion in his voice.

A blush spread over her cheeks. He truly was wonderful, and this had gone infinitely better than she had hoped. "Yes, I think so." She wrapped her arms around his neck.

***

"It's a girl!" The doctor held up the wet, squalling child so that its mother could see it.

"My baby," Bulma gasped heavily. "I want my baby."

A nurse took the baby and cleaned her up, then swaddled her in a tiny pink blanket before placing her into her mother's arms. "There now, sweetheart," she soothed. "Let's see your mama."

"Hi, baby." Happy tears trickled down Bulma's cheeks as she held her newborn daughter. The baby had ten fingers and toes, dark hair, and deep, dark eyes.

"Oh Bulma, she's beautiful," Mrs. Briefs cooed. "Yes, you are!"

Vegeta waited patiently until Bulma's parents were done fawning over the child. He couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy at the thought that the baby should have been his. It was no matter. He would care for the infant as if it was his own blood. The only one he would care for more was the child's mother.

"Vegeta?"

He turned his attention back to Bulma, who was holding a hand out to him. Immediately he went over to her and took her hand. "Are you all right?"

She nodded, and he noted how fatigued she looked. It was small wonder, considering she had struggled to push the infant out of her body for over ten hours. "I'm fine, just really tired." She tugged at his hand and pulled him over to sit on the edge of the bed beside her. "Did you want to hold her?"

Vegeta looked at the little bundle in her arms and nodded a little hesitantly. She was so tiny. Bulma's parents were watching, and he didn't know what to do with an infant. But when she placed the child in his arms, he forgot about being nervous. He poked a fingertip against the baby's palm, and the tiny fingers closed around his, surprising him. But when the baby's eyes opened and met his, something stirred inside of him, something he realized was similar to the emotion that stirred inside of him when he'd offered to throw Yamcha out of the medical lab. It was protectiveness, coupled with affection.

The baby yawned hugely and Bulma couldn't help but smile when Vegeta looked up at her, an expression of peaceful wonder on his face.

"Let's give them some time alone, dear," Mrs. Briefs told her husband, dabbing at her eyes with a hanky as she herded him toward the door. Such a nice boy their daughter had for a husband!

"Vegeta?" Bulma asked quietly. He'd gone back to looking down at the baby and was now holding the child closer, one hand cupping the little head protectively.

"What will you call her?" Vegeta asked. Bulma had told him of a few names she favored, but hadn't decided on one. Even though he'd determined that he would raise the child as his own, he didn't know if he was entitled to assist her in naming the child.

He needn't have worried.

Bulma shifted a little against her pillows. "Well," she began contemplatively, "I was thinking Aubergine."

Vegeta looked up from the baby, an unreadable expression on his face. "Aubergine?" His mother's name had been Aubergine.

Bulma nodded. "If that's okay with you, that is."

He straightened up, his chin lifted a little. He looked proud. "I think she would be honored," he said softly, smiling at his wife when she laid a hand on his arm.

"Really?"

He nodded. "Really. Who would not be honored to have one's grandchild named for her?"

Bulma's eyes filled with tears. "I love you, Vegeta."

Vegeta leaned over to kiss his wife. "You are very precious to me, my wife." He paused, looking down at the baby again. "Do you think that someday..."

"We might have a baby of our own together?" Bulma finished, touched when he nodded. "I look forward to it."

He looked up at her, the emotion he'd never uttered clear as day in his eyes. He swallowed. "I love you too, Bulma," he whispered, curling an arm around her when she began to cry. "Even if I never tell you again, I always will."