Dragon Ball Z Enciente

LEMON CONTENT. ADULT SITUATIONS. AND LANGUAGE. YOU'VE BEEN WARNED.  
  
  
  
Enceinte  
  
By: HIROKO  
  
Morning was no help in these parts of the Capsule Corp. house. Everything on one side was a bustle, and everything on the other was afire with the bombarded smell of bacon, eggs, and to what not else could be served on such a scrumptious morning. Too bad it was a weekend, maybe then Trunks would find his slack. But the days of the weekend were permanently conspired and appointed as the three labor given days of each week. Since there was no place for studying or anything, he could usually count on his usual visits to the gravity room, and most definitely never underestimated the accounts of which "weekdays were in order as well. whenever possible", or so that was what his father had told him from there on. In his teens, and his father still allowed his strict standards to have their ways, and even more so with the years. Age meant nothing, and strength meant everything above anything. He had dealt with it at eight, but now it became ridiculous.  
  
His back fell slouched and his head hung a bit. The heel of his boots thudding against the carpeted floor of the halls. He needed food, that was all, just food. He knew he would need it for any activities Vegita had in order, and he needed his energy. And obviously so did his father; he seemed to be eating more, and training less for the food. Which was very odd. And his mom seemed to be everywhere for the past few weeks. Mostly near Vegita or him or on the phone or in the kitchen- not too much room for work at Capsule Corps., that was for sure. He didn't want to know what she did all day long any ways, he was training. Ah well.  
  
The smell of a kitchen is said to be at its best, unless being exterminated for ants of course. Too bad there weren't any ants- then he could get out of training, his father would then be ranting all day about food, and wouldn't care much about anything he did. But alas. no ants, he sighed as he entered the kitchen.  
  
He knew this room of the house better than any other almost- besides his bedroom, and of course the gravity room. A lot of life, whether one knows it or not, is spent in the kitchen, and especially if you are saiyan, and half would do.  
  
He plumped his rear onto a stool at the bar, near the appliances. His father, as usual, sat himself at the table and his mother stood waiting patiently next to the coffeepot, which was at a brew. A folded newsletter in her left hand, and a very large bagel with an extreme amount of cream cheese covered it like a woolen blanket on a small tiny person. He watched as she devoured a large chunk like a famished piranha. Very unlike her. A small sliver of cream lisped across her lip, and she licked it away, as her jaws chomped away at the delicious morsel, he supposed it was that good. Then remembered what he'd been trying to for a while, as he'd watched her.  
  
"Hey, I thought there weren't anymore bagels left?" he charmed in. She looked up at him as if he hadn't been there before and had just sat down. He wanted to roll his eyes, but wanted an answer more over, and she didn't evenly like sarcasm in the mornings, even if it was a weekend. Her mouth tweaked a bit so it could get words past her chewy bite.  
  
"There aren't now" she muffled simply, then made her way over toward the stove, where a servo-bot was clicking away at it. She peered her head over the pan that acquired the smells of bacon. Sizzling and crackling were enough to make his stomach boil, and his head hurt. He leered his gaze toward his father, who wholesomely possessed the same initiative to eat now not later.  
  
Vegita's arm slumped against the table. His elbow feeling a burn from friction. He leaned his head over and laid it against his curled fist, his gaze directed all at Bulma, and the stacks of food that were staring back at him. He felt his stomach growl from the messages of his brain. He frowned from impatience. Bulma turned and looked at him with a smile.  
  
"Alright, its done" she conquered the whole static of the room and left it in ease before pile upon pile was placed upon the table, and stack upon stacks of dishes littered the sinks for the dish washer to make its money worth in technical operations.  
  
Food was good. So Good! In the morning! When it is hot and fresh and steaming, ah yes, the steaming is the best.  
  
Trunks' eye sockets couldn't help but be timid and drift toward his mother once more, he looked toward her coffee pot- still brewing, . but then again she was drinking some too. She must have made more. But why?, She never did that, not even on workdays. And even more so, she was eating a piled high plate of -- fried mushrooms! ('with' horseradish). He literally freaked, and purposely turned his nose up in disgust that she would eat something, at this time of day- no his appealing dish to be of course.  
  
"What are you Eating?!" his thoughts sought his mouth, as all ways. Her blossomed blue eyes stared up at him from her fork full of delicacied treat. "Muthrums--" she murmured before stopping herself and swallowing, to correct herself and say the right word. Trunks grimaced, with a wretched sort of smile. "I dunno I just wanted some- they're really good, you want some?" she became giddy and fair free from any harassment he was trying to give her. He frowned. "No, thank you" he swished his head to see his father begin to leave the kitchen, hushedly telling him in secret to follow. And Trunks abided with him, rising from his seat in a following pursuit. Catching a glance of his mother, digging her little grubby hands into the refrigerator, and also the emptied plate: four of mushrooms. 'She never eats so much', but his thoughts were dragged elsewhere by is father telling him to hurry his ass up or have it pummeled before hand. Trunks sloshed on.  
  
This morning hadn't been great of course. The moment she had woken she had heard small and larger bickering complaints about almost anything come from Vegita. Whether it be about the air conditioning not putting out enough air for the humid climate of the cities residents not helping, or that of the alarm clock being five minutes off again. Maybe important to him, but not to her- which made it agitating.  
  
***  
  
She had woken to him in the shower and herself still in bed, the clock reading 6:35. It was still darker still, because of the winter season. She had scowled and buried her head into the soft cushioning of her pillow. Before retreating and screaming into nothing but air: "It's too early!!" The shower had stopped, and the padding of feet were heard all around the bathrooms' tiles. The door opened to reveal his form, she didn't bother to look and see if he was nude or not though- it Was too early. "What are you screeching about now?" he barked. She then turned too late to see him in his blue pants. She frowned and cursed herself for not trying. "Nothing!" she grumbled, and plummeted her face into her down pillow again. This time she felt the heavy mounting of a hand touch her back, and a small amount of pressure was applied. She found herself to moan, not knowing whether of resistance or pleasure of having some of the out of place muscles tenderized. His breath caught up inside her ear, as he had leaned down and began to nudge his face against her hair and then her lobe. She moaned louder at the extra pressure he was starting to put on her, and she began to direct his hands by reaching her own back. Allowing him to finally reach her neck and stop after she had sighed from being even more exhausted then before. He merely stared at her and then left his seating on the bed, and went to fetch his shirt. Raising her bare arms above her head and resting them. She heard more ranting though. "Woman, it is time to get up- I am hungry!" Her eyes slowly opened to slits and revealed her alluring glare. Her head cocked over to see him - standing there with all his stout and trying-to- look-taller glory; that showed he wanted her to start moving at his demands. All this was everything that agitated her: for she did not like being told what to do, corrected under any situation, or told how to raise her children! - almost practically both of ChiChi's and Vegita's fault. There was nothing more to do than to get up any ways. This bed was becoming more conscious on her knack for not liking to be lazy unless it came to fixing blown particle members of a gravity central circuit. He could hear her groaning from across the room. She was in a mighty unfashionable mood from the usual, but he was longing for a breakfast and didn't want to take anymore time to notice her displeasure. He was heard leaving the room and making his way downstairs when she poked her head out of the bathroom doorway with her fluffy seepage of bubbly toothpaste hanging from her mouth, and her stick pointing out from her pierced lips- to keep her saliva in. She growled at him and snapped her neck around to go back to brushing her teeth.  
  
***  
  
Bulma set the pulp stained glass onto the kitchen table. Lunch time- and she had already eaten four meals. This made her start to seize the opportunity of placing herself beside her husband as a competitor as a food vacuum herself, but of course, he packed away almost ten dishes at a time. To her- he ate 35 times as many meals as she usually ate.  
  
She walked around the kitchen and found herself in front of her radio. Her hand twisted the on switch and the boom box came to life. It was programmed on a Pop/Rock station. She leaned against the counter and listened to the mellow, smooth melody of the slow guitar and long luxurious voice of the young female singer. She listened for a while, and found the song ironic for her predicament. Her ears listened a little more as she stared at the shiny silver music box.  
  
'You are beautiful. in every single way. words can't bring you down---'; the long held note of the last lisped word hung in the girl's throat for a while. Perhaps Bulma should introduce this girl to Vegita, and then she would find herself singing those depressed Rock catastrophes.  
  
She felt her hand on her belly at the thought of being ugly. She had eaten a lot of food before noon. Fried and fatty. All of the worst things of course, were her favorites. Her stomach was tight and hard like a rock. She felt sick almost. Her fingers prodded at her swollen belly. She should look and feel like a blowfish; after all she had eaten so much. She whimpered at the thought of being fat and flabby in old age. Vegita would blast the fat off of her, or even worse, he'd make her train and spar against him.  
  
Bulma rolled her eyes and clicked the music off with haste, not even trying to look up another station. The swish of the kitchen door made her turn and look at her entering guest. Trunks stood about face, bruised face actually. No matter how much stronger he became and how much he trained he never laid a hand on his father that was beyond being glared at for. He had learned many times before that he should never 'want' to surpass him, for it would mean the utter crushing of a more wrathful pride than his own. And his mother wouldn't understand still, which wouldn't help in any matters with his father. Trunks had to keep his tongue too, and that irritated him to no end when inside the gravity chamber. He liked it better when they trained outside, much more freedom to run and a lot more guessing games to play, because he would stagger his ki down to such a low depth it would prove difficult and more tactful to catch him and pound him.  
  
His mother glared at his outcome as usual - she didn't like such blows put on him, but his father was determined to do everything the opposite of what Bulma said when it came to training, for he knew everything she said was worthless to his time and patience. She walked over to him, and touched his chin, jerking his head from side to side as she examined him. He heard her mutter something then sigh as she left toward the fridge and began to take out sandwich supply.  
  
The sound of the kitchen door swinging open was heard again, only more wind to it from an angrier force. Vegita glanced at Trunks before sitting down in a chair at the table. Bulma didn't even look at him as she piled more food things out. Her ears pricked at a feral growl directed at her she supposed because her son didn't speak. Bulma still didn't bother looking around at him and played it in the way that she hadn't heard. She suspected he would start barking at her soon. She frowned.  
  
"I don't know WHY your over there fussing - when you should pretty well know I'm NOT feeding you!" she snapped around and placed some plates of food in front of Trunks, or closer to Trunks really. Vegita seemed to snap at this as well as she had snapped her mouth at him. He gritted his teeth.  
  
"And WHY, may I ask?" he choked it out. Bulma glared at him as she leaned herself up. "I don't think you have to ask WHY, when you can pretty much concur what it is - WHEN I've told you for the last TEN years!" her screaming was beyond the usual. She never liked to yell at him unless by themselves in a room alone, but she was making things in the kitchen shake and spin as she showed off her outrage. Vegita didn't seem to be in a too perky mood either, and Trunks felt it better to leave the room with as much food as possible, since he knew none would survive if they attacked each other. He grabbed all he could and stuffed a sandwich in his mouth, and ran.  
  
Vegita glared at her as hard as possible. "I am NOT in the mood to be ignored right now, Bulma," he said with as much composure of not yelling as possible. She only pierced her lips together and slammed her hands flat on the kitchen table.  
  
"Vegita I have told you time and time again, Not to be beating my son into a bloody pulp every time you have to spar with him - I would like to have his face in perfect appeal so that he can get married you know!"  
  
Vegita scowled at her. "Woman, you have silly plans for him, and 'time and time' again I have told you that his training comes before any of the shit you have to throw at him in his future!" he turned to leave. "Shit - shit! HEY! Don't Walk away from ME!" she sounded exasperated and stunned. She screamed in hysteria, and ran after him since his walking pace was four-times her own. He was leaving for outside. She flew out the door without even grabbing her coat, and felt sorry for it as the sharp cold wind scraped against her cheeks and hands. Her feet caught up to him and her hands reached out and yanked on him, her balance missing him though. Her boot smeared its rubber sole across the puddle of ice and her hands clutched to his arm as she began to summit to the frosty ground. She yelped from her surprise. But a jerk heeled at the hymn of her jeans and an iron clamp literally snapped her up by her arm and held her tightly away from her fall. She whimpered again as she gave her weight against his sturdy form. She felt that light weighted feeling all over her body like she had many a time.  
  
Her eyes looked down to her feet, and watched them dangle and pull closer to him as he levitated. He hadn't been walking at all; he had avoided the ice completely, which made it better to understand his faster than usual pace he had. She looked up at him and noticed he wasn't carrying such an angry face as before. Her chest felt like it was going to give out if she didn't get inside or something. Her hands felt numb, and her cheeks were bloodshot. She groaned as her eyes burned and her throat constricted; she felt sick---  
  
What she saw was a worried expression and that was all - before all she saw was black; and her exhaustion caught up with her.  
  
***  
  
She still had that little presence that she had been dreaming, but she couldn't remember the dream that she had just roused from. It had left so quickly after laying down with her for so long. Bulma opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling as she focused her eyes as fast and best she could. Her head motioned back and forth looking for him, and lay still as she looked harder and found him sitting on the bed just beside her, as she had been wondering her glass eyes around dazed. "What happened to me?" she murmured softly as not to hurt her sore throat.  
  
He had been facing away from her, with his back bent down a little and arms pressed over his bent knees. She saw his head turn slowly around and stare at her for a while - taking her appearance in and checking her in to her ways she would have never guessed, but she could feel his person roaming through her. It was only natural for her to feel him so close like that. Her blue orbs still looking to him for a clue though as to what had caused her bed rest. His mouth was set in such a grim line it made her uneasy. The feel of his ubiquity touches in her.  
  
"I could not tell. (he paused) - you only fell unconscious for a time ---" he stopped, and knitted his brow some more. She looked to him for a moment and sighed. She reached her hand swiftly to her forehead and rubbed gently over her sweatiness. The mattress beneath her shook some and she turned her head to stare at his eyes that were so close to her now. Bulma looked into his worried features and felt herself instinctively touch at his face. Her small delicate hand grooving over his fine facial shape, and running her fingers nicely over his lips and brow as much as possible. Vegita leant his head forward and buried his face into the crook of her tender neck. Her arms moving around him and resting behind his neck and tightening.  
  
He couldn't tell what was so different about her - besides all of the obvious changes. Bulma was acting too different for him, and the thought of not knowing her well enough to be able to tend to her made his muscles ache. His hands groped over her stiffly and began to clutch and hold at her hard and better. She could smell him now. Bulma dug her nose close to his ear and cheek and she could smell him now. The aroma of him was too great to sustain any composure from and she found her legs wanting to tighten around something. She groaned from too much anxiety building.  
  
Vegita heard her soft notation to do something for her. Her skin pricked at the good curl of lips against her as she felt him smirking or smiling one at her choice of habit for the next moments perhaps.  
  
Her knees lifted up toward her chest - her toes digging and pushing over the stretchable rim of his gi pants, and curling over the rim, and pushing down and away. Bulma turned her face as she felt him lean away, and she covered his mouth quickly before she had to take the chance of looking into hungry eyes. Her lips felt him grin against her.  
  
"You might only be breaking apart from none of a hard labor lately." he complied to the demands of her scene so early ago. "But I can only hope you do not leave me before I'm finished---" he grinned mischievously to her. Bulma gave him a wry smile, and finally felt the hard heaviness of his stomach as she found his shirt gone. Her fingers ran up, slinking through the straight bristles of his hair. Her naked thighs bearing themselves sturdily around his waste, and she locked her place to him. Vegita putting his arms under her lower back and feeling her other arm curl around his right arm. Her chin tilting back ever so slightly as his mouth covered and licked along her throat, stopping at a dark mark she carried. His teeth gripping hold of the bruise colored spot, and breaking an epidermis to sheath his teeth into her and puncture deep to the root of her blood and taste. The result of her pushing hips made him move farther and up from the sheets and bed, as he quickly found time to position himself in the dear spot he knew where to her so well. As her carried uprising began to fall back toward the surface sheets, the long drive was stabbed in as well. And the process of herself instantly pre- climaxing made him think about her fast awakening in her body. She had been brought on so quick in one stroke, he felt himself quiver at the change. Her hand that groped his head gripped harder around his hair until it bunched between her fingers with sweat and slipperiness. She cried out softly as the coming of herself so faster. Her feet crisscrossing as they dug her heels at each other with brutal force.  
  
There was a change in all of her. The feel of inside her was different as well. Her climaxing and her reaction - all very different than only a few weeks ago. Vegita gritted his teeth some, her walls were crushing him at this point, and he found it painful to try and bend with her any, but then it went and she became so loose and warm. What was this--- He stopped any menstruation he had started at the feeling. There was an unstoppable churn in her. He could feel it now. He knew it. Vegita pushed his sex deeper within her this time, and received a furthermore explanation. She moaned again to him, but he found himself deep within her body and not her mind.  
  
There --- he caught it. The faint twinge of her change, as it churned within her -stronger- this time. He scowled and sharply withdrew from her. Her startled cry shook her badly, and well enough as the cold and damp air around her center almost gusted into her, and she shut her legs abruptly, and too fast so it caused her a sting of discomfort. Her face scrunched tightly and she cursed him softly for retracting so meanly.  
  
Bulma clutched at her arms and tugged the covers around her. She stayed turned away from him, but she leant her head over her shoulder to glare at him. He wasn't lying trying to sleep - he was looking at her. Deeply and blankly looking to her. She looked him over with a suspicious outcast upon her features. Her blue brows knitting together as she frowned at him; he was irritating her this time.  
  
"What!?" she scoffed.  
  
He smirked at her this time. His eyes merely were brightening a bit with the catch of I-know-something-you-don't-know look. She pierced her lips angrily, her thin hands picking at her pillow and tossing it at his head; his hand came up and knocked it away. He chuckled at her crude and useless attempts. She flopped herself at him as she found he was mocking her.  
  
Her small fists flew at him almost gently as she had her own way of playing with him. But after being restrained she curled herself closer to him. His hand coming up and stroking her hair. She gasped.  
  
"Oh! Vegita!" she said soothingly composed from acting shocked, "Where is Trunks?" she asked.  
  
If you were Trunks you would feel slightly embarrassed of being mentioned in your parents bedroom, yes.  
  
Vegita didn't even care to snarl at her though as his hand slid threw her silky hair.  
  
"He's somewhere." He said flatly.  
  
Bulma looked up into his eyes this time. She looked hard and deep, and allowed her feelings to catch wind of something stirring in him. He wasn't acting like a stone right now. He was paying attention to her in every way possible. Not a warrior composition-anything to it. Her brow deepened at the sudden change in her husband. Vegita didn't stare a her as hard or usually still as most times, or close his eyes to turn away from her in some way so he wouldn't drown in her some time or another.  
  
Her lips moved to say something, but he hushed her with his finger. Her body fell loose and away from him, as he moved away and over her. Not preparing to lay with her, but actually sliding away and sitting on his knees. She watched cautiously as he leaned his head down and lay his cheek against her abdomen. Her eyes peered down toward him consciously as she noticed him rub his thumbs up and down the side of her ribs. The soothing motion made her ease down and lay her head back to only feel him do whatever he was trying.  
  
Her tummy was so tight and retched together in almost pain. The belief that it was his fault might be part of it, but it would have ceased from him by now. By extracting himself so quickly - her muscles wouldn't have contracted so crookedly, he knew. Vegita put his hearing to its test. His ears pricking at the motions and tendons tightening for replacement soon enough. His hand moving over her cautiously, and feeling over her; it was only very relaxing to her, but she did wonder what he was supposedly trying to do with her.  
  
There--- He lifted his head away as his head felt a thumping ki hit his temple. Vegita stared down at her stomach, really, examining it almost. Then he took himself away from her and their bed completely. She felt startled as he began to dress. Her torso immediately jumped up and away from her lying state.  
  
"Where are you going!?" she pressed her concern and selfishness over him into one little accusing question. He looked to her when he heard her speak. Vegita walked over to her, leaning down and pressing his hand flatly to her tummy. He kissed her soft and briskly, then left.  
  
She sat for some time staring at the door. Bulma was agitated at how strange he was acting. Her eyes drifted to her belly where he had found so much interest in soothing her. Her hand slipped over herself unconsciously as she pressed and touched at it. Her head lazily fell a back a little and as sighed heavily to stare at the ceiling and around the room to see about her robe.  
  
Bulma paused. Her head plummeted down and her face sunk toward her low abdomen in a jerk. She stared at herself there for all a long time. Her hands wrapped over her belly again and she pressed and poked her fingers at herself. It was all swollen. Her stomach was so tight, and it had been hours since her last few meals. ALL those meals, she stared in shock around her. Her big blue orbs casting a witch like stare around her room. Her hand felt the strong movement push up her ribs and toward her chest. Her throat retched forcefully and she cupped her hand over her lips, which had pierced together automatically. Her legs flew over the side of the bed as she made for a dead run and ended having barricaded herself around her toilet.  
  
***  
  
Vegita made his way down the stairs, heading toward the kitchen. He would be damned if he would be cheated out of supper as well as lunch. The presence of his son crossed his sight as he fell in line into the kitchen surroundings now. Trunks stood from his chair - to speak most likely. Vegita stopped him.  
  
"She's fine. Only tired." He said roughly, but dull; only wanting to end to conversation and subject quickly. But he knew it wouldn't be so easy once Trunks knew of his mother's condition.  
  
Trunks thought over the whole entirety of it. His mother had been working so extra hard over the past few months that he could only figure her to be exhausted. She was practically preparing the company for his presence so soon. She wanted him already working with Capsule Corp. and wanted to take time out to help him advance toward any leadership skills he might need. He watched his father pop open the refrigerator door, the cool climate spilling from the concealment quickly as he emptied out the giant cabinet. He sat back down and leaned his head into his palms. Vegita walked out of the sight of Trunks side-sight. Trunks was ignoring him some - not really hungry because of the worries over his mother.  
  
" By the way-" Vegita began, "your mother's going to be staying out of work for a few months after January." This caught Trunks attention, "SO you'll probably have to take in for her-" Trunks jumped.  
  
"WHAT! Why--- why is she out of work!?" he jumped up from his chair. "WHY am I working?"  
  
Vegita stared at him for a moment as he dug his teeth into a cold sub sandwich.  
  
"Because of her pre-labor period, you idiot brat!" Trunks watched as Vegita made his way from the kitchen and heard him leave for the upstairs. He slumped down in a chair this time. His mom.  
  
". 'pre-labor period'.-- What the hell!" he leaped up from his chair like a springing cat pressed for hunting time. He started breathing hard and his adrenaline started pulsing through him like light years. Trunks ran his fingers through his lavender mop and rubbing his head rather hard along with it. His neck slouched some as he stared around in angered confusion.  
  
Trunks pierced his lips together and leapt toward the counter where his cell phone lay quietly -- unusual. His fingers punched the keys so fast they barely registered to his service; he growled in frustration and dialed 'slowly' again. The small bussing ringer sounded through the connection.  
  
"Hello, Son residence" ChiChi's sultry voice cut into the line. "Yeah, yeah is Goten there-!" he demanded irrationally and rude into the phone. ChiChi grabbed a hand onto her hip with little contained fury at the crude teenager talking so disrespectfully to her. Bulma really didn't know manners or how to teach them, she thought.  
  
"No-" she said curtly, "he's at Gohan's house, Bu-" "Thanks Mrs. Son, bye!" he clicked off. ChiChi huffed discreetly.  
  
"Why I tell you if he hadn't shown that last bit of courtesy I would have cured him good" she said purely, and shut her phone on the hook roughly.  
  
Trunks ran his fingers as calmly he could over the cell buttons. The chiming ring of the other Son household was vibrating with the hysteria of a new dress Videl had gotten for a business party. Goten made his way helplessly over to the annoying phone. "Hello, Son residence" he chimed. Trunks scowled. "Do you always do what your mommy teaches!-" he mocked in a terrible baby mode. Goten frowned heavily despite his complete act of trying to keep composure from his best friend's petty insults. "What do you want, now?" he replied grumpily and with haste. "Just wanted to let you know that I found someone to take my place in the household when I move off into the working world."  
  
Goten plastered a dumbfounded look to all over the words and hints; he scratched his head.  
  
"What!?" he said as confused he was. Trunks rolled his eyes, and leaned deeper into the phone. "I mean that in the coming future there is going to be somewhat of a sibling rivalry-" he tried again. Goten thought it over a while this time and came out with a better expression to trophy for his deafened brain. "ARE you serious - I mean your not kidding me or anything!" he cried out loudly into his brother's phone.  
  
Videl turned away from her dress for a moment. "What is it Goten-kun?" she said sweetly. Goten shook his finger at her, and she quieted and watched for him to speak. Trunks began to explain the occurrences of the entire day he and his parents had had. "Uh huh," was Goten's theme as he listened, "uh huh..Wow! that's totally --- NEVER something I would have thought - no offense, and don't tell, but your mom's no hyperactive-twenty-year-old, not including her looks and all, but she's in her mid-forty's isn't she?!" Goten exclaimed.  
  
Gohan caught interest at the way Goten explained Bulma's looks to be so heightened in a good way, but looked more thoughtfully toward the subject they had at hand. His finger picked at his glasses by moving them up his nose some more. Videl looked on him still.  
  
"Uh, huh. Well - I didn't mean it in a bad way-alright I'm telling them now, see ya!" Goten set the phone down and laughed. He scratched his head again. He turned toward his awaiting spectators.  
  
"Well. I'm not quite sure how to explain this, but I suppose it would just be easier to spit it out" he began horrible as he surely would. Videl frowned at him.  
  
"Then spit it out!" Goten took a quick intake of breath.  
  
"Well, it's been a recent discovery within the last seven yours - that Bulma-san is going to have a baby." he said it like a scientific quote, and Bulma was the runner-up lab rat.  
  
Gohan thought he had fallen out of tune for a second, but reconciled the truth. Videl smiled wide at him, and then turned abashed at it.  
  
"WHAT!?" they chimed together frightened. Videl recovered first, while her husband stood aback in shock still. "This is wonderful, did they say whether it's a boy or a girl! - well of course they didn't, they just found out! OH! This is so wonderful! They're going to have a baby!" she clasped her hands together. Goten took on a crooked smile. "Hey, Gohan, I think she's getting ideas." he grinned.  
  
Gohan stood upright this time.  
  
"What!?" he looked over to see Videl smiling so wide at him. His eyes drifted away a little in pressured down nervousness.  
  
***  
  
Bulma nearly stumbled out of the bathroom. Her robe had been found, and her hand lay smudging over her mouth still. Her eyes looked half lidded now and her breath wasn't all too pleasant.  
  
" Nice exaggerations."  
  
Bulma leered her eyes over to the side of the room as deathly as she could. Her glare was cold, very cold. Her frown was unpleasant and her face was pecked. He was leaning against the wall with a nice smirk. He lay the cold sandwich on his lips and bit out a half of it. She gasped and forgot him as she stared at the delicacy. Her lip trembled with so much excitement at the beautiful treat. Vegita stared down mockingly as he squished the sandwich to bring out the juicy condiments of it. He took a smaller bite this time, and watched her entirely as he chewed it. She leapt from the bed and grabbed for the sandwich, to only have it taken away. He held it above him. She stared up at it and then glared her eyes back at him. She jumped for it, and he moved it. She pushed him and he didn't budge. She jumped again and nearly fell from her dizziness.  
  
"Give it to me!" she whined, and looked toward the floor. The deli thing appeared before her eyes and he felt her snatch it! She bit into it devilishly. She still glared back at him.  
  
"Meanie." she muffled out from all the chunky bread, and sat down. He walked to her and sat beside her as he watched her devour the partiality of his meal. She sunk her shoulders and looked about to pout. "What is it now?" he said rather irritably. "It's just that!-" she huffed, " I'm thirsty."  
  
His harsh stare seemed to break into a nicer look, and she found him chuckling at her. "What." she said softly.  
  
"You might as well get used to it. It's going to be like this for some time." He complied as he vaguely smelt her purge from the bathroom.  
  
She looked toward the floor. She had consciously figured out her dilemma quickly when she had flung herself over the toilet bowl; the worst part besides the itchy and stretched skin. She growled despite her effort to contain it. Bulma lay her head against his stout shoulder.  
  
"It's all your fault" she made it finalized. He twitched an eyebrow at this. "Isn't it always." he looked to her.  
  
She leaned her head up to him to look. Wrapping her hands around his arm.  
  
"Are you gonna tell me 'what' my Christmas present is?" she tried to persuade sweetly since she knew he had found out when he'd inspected her. Her fingers running up and down his hard arm soothingly. Vegita smirked at this routine.  
  
"You're going to have to wait." He said almost promisingly and well, "just like the rest of us."  
  
He leaned over her and kissed her now furrowed eyebrows. Vegita felt her stir somewhere with a twinge of happiness he hadn't told her. But he knew her happiness would only grow on him, and for herself, once she knew about their little girl.  
  
  
  
La Fin  
  
***  
  
For: Yuukoshi - my friend, whether you are here or not, I always feel you. This fanfic took a while, because I didn't bother with it for three whole months. It was created in August for my birthday, and I never finished it until now, thank you so much for reading my work. Please email me some time for comments on this story, or just to chat, no problem: nayrusluv@hotmail.com  
  
Oh, and also:  
  
Enceinte - with child; pregnant.  
  
(For all the people that thought it was a Spanish word - it's FRENCH, or derived from it.)  
  
AND have a MERRY CHRISTMAS!! Happy Hanukah! And Feliz Navidad! 


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