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Luna Ilena	By : FlameWolf666 Category: Dragon Ball Z > Het - Male/Female > Vegeta/Bulma Views: 638 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don’t own anyone or anything from any of the Dragon Ball series. This is just for fun and no profit will be made from this.

Chapter List
- 1-Luna Ilena
- 1
Author’s Note: Not my first time writing DBZ fanfiction but I never published the last one. (I won’t either. Wrote it when I was twelve and, well, a lot has changed plotwise since then.) First time writing this pairing though.

Luna Ilena

By: FlameWolf

    The sky was blue, the birds were singing and the heiress of Capsule Corp felt like she was going to go bonkers. Just recently, a certain arrogant Prince had been acting even worse than usual. She was used to him ignoring her, treating her like his personal technician, calling her by anything but her name and eating literally everything in the house. What she wasn’t used to was mood swings. One moment he would be his normal, demanding self. The next, he was an outright asshole; coming close to biting her head off more than once. The worst part was; the more she fought back, the more he seemed to enjoy it. It was enough to make her want to tear out her beautiful blue hair out by the roots.
    It was only her stubbornness that kept her from calling Goku to ask what was going on, wanting to figure it out herself. After all, asking advice from a guy who had formerly no idea that women lacked balls seemed almost like an insult to her intelligence. She was a genius, after all! So, with a determined set to her jaw, she slammed down the tiny thing she had been working on; accidentally breaking it in the process.
    Looking down at the smoldering heap with an almost visible sweatdrop hanging over her head, the young woman let out a quiet sigh. “Great, now the jerk’s cost me five hours,” she grumbled, while inwardly accepting the blame. Her temper often got the best of her and her next encounter with her alien houseguest would likely be no exception. In his current mood, he was unlikely to take it with his normal, dry humor. Still, she wasn’t just going to allow him to walk all over her like this. She wanted to make it damn clear that his behavior was unacceptable.
    Stomping through the automatic entry, she searched the arched hall with angry, light blue eyes. Seeing no sign of the infuriating Saiyan, Bulma huffed out a sigh; blowing some of her straight bangs out of her face. It was then her stomach let out a low rumble, reminding her that she had skipped breakfast in order to avoid her current problem. Slumping in abject defeat, the dramatic inventress trudged her way to the kitchen. She was completely taken off guard when she saw the object of her ire seated at the counter by the kitchen.
    While he was short, his frame was powerful; muscles standing out in clear definition under his clothes. His thick, nearly black mane jutted back from his skull in a ‘do that looked like ebony flames; his widow’s peak giving his forehead an abnormally large appearance. Already, he was glaring at her out of the corner of his dark eyes; his tail wrapping tighter around his thick waist. Wrinkled her nose at him, she stomped into the kitchen to grab a slice of cake. It was the quickest item she could grab and she wanted a bit of something sweet anyway.
    “Woman, are you trying to become too large to fit through any of the doors,” came a gruff snarl from behind her, making her teeth grit together as she spun to face him. She had wanted to wait until she had gotten something in her stomach but now was as good a time as any.
    “Okay, I have no idea just what the Hell your problem has been lately but you need to start showing me just a bit of respect,” she demanded, setting her slice of chocolate cake on the marble counter. He simply snorted, rolling his eyes while looking utterly unimpressed.
    “Or you’ll what? Nag me to death? Your attempts to curtail me are nothing but a joke,” chided his raspy mid-tone, sneering at her as she placed her hands on her hips and took a defensive posture.
    Eyes glittering with a light that would have made Yamcha run to the hills, she put her best simpering smile on her face as she picked up her treat. “You know, you’re right. I can do nothing to stand against such a stud. You are the Prince of all Saiyans after all,” she purred as she strolled up to him, hips moving in a seductive manner. At twenty-four, she had the body of a Greek goddess; often using it to her advantage. Now was no exception, the way Vegeta ogled her ample bosom not lost on her. ‘Got ya,’ she crowed to herself triumphantly.
    Then, as he was raising his head to no doubt continue inflating his own ego, Bulma Briefs made her move. With a swiftness that took the former monarch by surprise, she was smashing the desert into his face; making a break for her room before he even realized what had happened. She knew she was unlikely to make it to her room and, even if she did, there was nothing to stop him from simply breaking down her door. Yet her feet led her there on instinct, as if the magic of it being her room would be enough to repel an angry superhuman. A hysterical giggle bubbled out of her as she heard him roar her name, actual fear dumping into her veins.
    Normally, she would be fairly confident the odd male wouldn’t harm her. Right now, all bets were off. Clenching formed buttcheeks as she felt his ki flare to life, she reached for the doorknob that was a few feet away from her now. Unfortunately, her vain hopes of escape were violently ripped away from her; a heavy body slamming her against the wall by the doorframe. Large hands were trapping hers under them as they yanked her arms above her head and held them there. The heat of his power burned her back as she felt his gaze fairly bore into her. “You dare to disrespect me?! You are nothing but bug to a God like me! I could blow you away with a twitch of my pinky and yet you stand against me?!” ground out his scratchy voice, something about his tone making her shudder as hot breath gusted against the nape of her neck.
    Then, without warning, he was biting down with a low growl; her body going instinctually limp under the shorter man. Hissing, he pressed harder against her as his teeth clamped down even more. Yelping in pain, Bulma was shocked to find an underlying current of pleasure. That was when his scent hit her and she felt reality pull away from her. There was a thick aroma of musk mixed with something exotic. It was spicy, sour and held a slight burnt electricity smell. It was utterly intoxicating.
    Letting out a low rumble at her compliance, he lightened his grip ever so slightly. Then, as suddenly as he was on her, he was releasing her; broad chest heaving as he struggled to regain control of himself. Turning on his heel, he was stomping away from her; more than likely heading toward the training room her father had built for him. Confused, Bulma could only stare after him; caught between scared and just plain weirded out. What happened reminded her of several nature documentaries she’d watched about mating seasons, the implications making her shudder slightly.
    Shaking her head, she slipped into her room and locked the door behind her. While her mind was still whirling with the almost assault, she wanted as much distance between them as possible. Especially since some part of her was trying to decide if she was afraid of what he was going to do next or not. He had come very close to attacking her, the bite on the back of her neck turning it into something else entirely. Worn out by the riddle this all presented, the young woman plopped on her bed; staring at the white ceiling while her cerulean hair haloed her head.
    Images of the video she had seen about wolves filled her head, the act looking more violent than loving. As similar as it was, she found it hard to believe Vegeta was interested in her in the same manner. She was a human after all, a creature he considered far below someone like himself. Yet, the more she thought about it, the more his behavior could be seen as a strange sort of courting. Especially given how violent his race was. With a cold chill, she realized she had been responding without even thinking about it.
    Each time she had engaged in an argument with him had been an acceptance of his interest, the piece of cake in his face being the first physical response she’d given. That explained the bite, a flush coloring her cheeks as a hand traveled unconsciously to the abrasion. He was placing his claim so he could continue with the next step of his courtship. The only problem was, she had no idea if she wanted to continue with something as serious as what was happening.
    Whatever would happen between them during this would likely end in a lifetime partnership, a hefty commitment for her. Especially since she had no clue how she felt about the arrogant being. He was interesting to be around, often snarking at her in a semi-good natured way. He kept her on her toes, making her feel more stimulated than Yamcha ever did. That didn’t mean she wanted to try to start a relationship however. He was arrogant, often nasty, and spent most of his time training to be better than her best friend. He was anything but an ideal partner.
    An echo of his scent still lingering in her nose and she found her body rebelling against her. Already, she was feeling the beginnings of arousal; her fear having long ago faded. Her skin tingled where he touched her and she wanted more despite her misgivings. There had been something about the way his heat had covered her back, his muscles twitching as he released gruff noises. She felt drawn to it in a way she had never experienced before. “Why do you keep getting yourself into messes with men?” she lamented, determined to ignore her impulses this time. They had caused her nothing but trouble.
    So far, all of her relationships had been abject failures She really didn’t want to add a planetless alien Prince to her list. Pulling a blanket over herself, she decided to close her eyes and take a nap. For as long as she could remember, she could literally fall asleep whenever she pleased; using this talent to get her through creator’s block more than once. Now she would use it to allow her to just make it through today. Hopefully, tomorrow would be better.
    As soon as she awoke the next day, she found things had gotten much worse. There was a thick atmosphere of doom in the Capsule house, making her feel downright uncomfortable as she had made her way to the lab. To make matters worse, her parents had fled some time before she’d woken up; leaving her alone with the seething enigma. After yesterday, she also wanted to make herself scarce; burying herself in her projects as soon as she had grabbed enough supplies to last her a few hours. It was some time in the afternoon when her agitated housemate made his presence known.
    Bulma had lost herself in a miniature version of the dragon radar that could also sense power levels when a far away pounding drew her out of the zone only creative people could reach. Blinking as she came out of her daze, the distracted woman turned her gaze to the supposedly indestructible door. Impressed that it had held up to Vegeta’s initial knocks, she moved over to the intercom before he could get really angry; pressing a button while she asked him what he wanted. “I’m hungry woman,” bit out his demand before he was storming back upstairs, leaving her to stare at the speaker like she was hoping it would set on fire.
    “Oooo, that man,” she spat, stomping before she moved over to her sink to wash up.
    As much as she was loathe to cave to his demand, it was better than replacing the door or repairing any damage he might cause until he got his way. Drying her hands, she moved through the automatic door with a grimace. Giving him food would technically be another mating rite, one she didn’t have much choice about participating in. Feeling irritated at her mother for bailing during this crucial time, she made her way to the kitchen; avoiding the glare of her guest. Making a bee-line for the fridge, she pulled out a massive roast that had been set aside for him; preparing the oven to cook it in the shortest time possible.
    With any luck, it would be ready before he started to bitch again. Popping the meat into a tray, she was very aware of her guest watching her. Turning her head, she saw a predatory expression that made her shiver all over. He was watching her like she was his dinner, his gloved hands fisted on top of the marble. His expression hovered between hunger and fury, his nostrils flared as he took erratic breaths. “Give it here woman. I don’t need my meat cooked,” he demanded, his voice no more than a growl as his ki surrounded his body in a white glow.
    Swallowing her normal argument that it wasn’t healthy for him to eat raw beef, Bulma brought the pan to him; approaching him like she would a starving tiger. As soon as she got close enough, he was snatching it from her hands; tearing into it like some ravening beast. Blood and bits of gristle flew into the air while she took a few steps back, all her usual bravado fleeing her for the time being. In this moment, she saw how truly alien this man was. He was not of her species, ruled by entirely different instincts than she was.
    While Goku was mostly harmless, Vegeta was a lot closer to being a true Saiyan. Watching as he swallowed hunks of meat without chewing, she wondered if the innocent Goku would have been like this if he hadn’t hit his head as an infant. Were all Saiyans like this normally? Was having periods of near feralness to be expected? Shuddering slightly, she felt something buried deep inside her begin to respond to the raw, primordial energy he was giving off. Some primitive part of her brain approved of the fact he enjoyed her offering, that she had provided nutrition for one as powerful as he was.
    Shaking herself and doing her best to reign in her raging hormones, Bulma decided it would be a good time to retreat. As much as she was loathe to admit it, she was way out of her element. The best thing she could do was to keep her head down as much as possible and pray things would die down soon. Certainly this odd behavior couldn’t last forever. So, while he was distracted, she began to sneak past the counter and toward the elevator that led to the downstairs lab.
    Just as she was moving past the feasting alien, she felt something strong and furry wrap around her left arm. Having a good idea what it was, she was unsurprised when she saw it was his tail. It was only when Vegeta began to get to his feet that she began to panic. Flaring his nostrils, he closed his eyes as he appeared to take in her scent; letting out a gruff rumble as he did so. Giving a chuckle that chilled her blood, he opened his bottomless orbs as he reached to touch her milky cheek with gloved fingertips.
    Then he was simply taking what was left of the roast and leaving; the plush fur of his tail brushing sinfully against her skin as it unwound from her forearm. Letting out an unconscious moan, she clapped a hand over her mouth before fleeing to her sanctuary underground. It was almost like she was being attracted by his pheromones and behaviors on an instinctual level she couldn’t even begin to understand. It honestly scared her
    Sitting at her cluttered desk, the cerulean haired heiress rested her pounding head in her hands as she tried to desperately clear her thoughts. She was supposed to be more civilized than this, more logical. Besides, she thought humans were less perceptible to pheromones! Huffing in irritation, she pulled on her goggles before she got to work. As a Briefs, she was above this primitive behavior.
    Hours had passed like water through a sieve, unnoticed by the busy female. It was only the door flying off it hinges that finally broke her out of her concentration. Jumping, she had a split second to take in the crumpled heap of metal on the floor that had been her door before she was bodily thrown over a hard shoulder. Finding the breath knocked out of her for the moment, she struggled to free herself from whoever had grabbed her. This only got her rewarded with a gruff vocalization as a hand groped her ass.
    Turning her head to yell at her attacker, she swallowed her words when she saw the reddened eyes of Vegeta burning into her. He was even more intimidating than before, something feeling off about his ki as he proceeded to carry her through the hall and to the elevator that went to the first floor. As he walked, Bulma couldn’t help but notice how engorged his muscles felt; how it felt like his skin was vibrating just slightly.
    She was so distracted by these odd changes that she never noticed they had reached the room her family had given him until the beast threw her on the bed. Slamming the door and locking it, he was covering her body with his; the heat pouring off him coming close to being suffocating. Letting out a rough noise, he clamped what felt like large fangs around the right side of her neck; his tail curling around her waist to keep her close to him. Every part of him was shuddering, seeming to grow larger while light poured in from the windows. An occurrence that was strange, given that it was well after sunset.
    Feeling the furred appendage around her tighten as he increased the pressure of his sharp teeth, Bulma felt a cold wash of realization flood over her. If so much light was coming in, that meant it was a full moon. With his tail intact, it put a whole new focus on what was going on. Adrenaline immediately dumped into her system, immediately filling her with a need to escape. Bucking against the male above her, the young woman did her best to worm her way out of the steel-like cage his body had formed around her. This soon proved to be the worst choice she could have made.
    Releasing a vocalization that sounded like two mountains rubbing their peaks together, Vegeta bit down; drawing blood while both of his hands grabbed her hips in a painful grip. Gasping, she forced herself to relax; her heart racing in her ears while tears trickled down her pasty cheeks. “Please... d-don’t kill me Vegeta,” she whispered, hoping against hope she would be able to get through to him like Goku could with Gohan. A strange sound was the response she got, sounding guttural and inhuman. Yet, the rhythm of it told her that he might be laughing at her.
    “Peace, woman. I am not lowborn scum like Kakarot and his offspring. I can control the change as I please,” he informed, humor clinging to his abnormally deep voice as his tongue laved the wounds his fangs had made.
    This declaration did wonders to help her relax, all her fear gusting away in an instant. A fact Vegeta seemed to be aware of, letting loose a husky purr of approval as soon as she relaxed. “As sweet as your fear was, I am glad you are relaxing. I do not wish for this night to be traumatizing,” hummed his raspy mid-tone, aged leather brushing her cheek while he nuzzled her collarbone. Blinking at his words, Bulma placed her hands on his shoulders in an attempt to push him up so she could speak to him properly. If he wasn’t going to rip her apart, that left only one other option and she found herself a bit stunned that he would want her. She wasn’t surprised that it was like trying to move a brick wall.
    Deigning to at least raise his head so his eyes met hers, Vegeta gave her a scathingly impatient look; as if he expected her to know exactly what was happening. “After responding correctly to all of my courting cues, are you really trying to stop this now? It has been a long four days, fighting off my growing need for you until the time was right,” he sighed, lowering his eyelids slightly as he waited for her response; tail pulsing around her waist.
    “What are you talking about?! You were just acting moodier than usual,” protested her shrill voice as she desperately tried to play dumb. This elicited another of his strange chuckles, the tip of his brown furred tail tickling the bottom of her ribcage.
    “Do not pretend you do not know woman. You are smarter than the average human and are more curious than the most mischievous cub. You would have noticed something by now, no doubt worrying at it until you figured it out,” pointed out his rough mid-tone, giving the bleeding wound on her neck a gentle nibble.
    Letting out a whimper, Bulma wasn’t sure if she felt flattered or insulted. He had come very close to complementing her intelligence but it felt like he was coming close to comparing her species to dust motes. There was also the pesky problem that she had no idea if he was doing this because of his own hormones. If she allowed him to go through with this, there was every chance he would hate her for it. He didn’t seem to see her species with any kind of regard, making it hard to believe that it wasn’t something beyond his control that was causing him to act this way toward her. “Please, you don’t want this,” she tried to reason, hitting his shoulders uselessly as he sucked on her collarbone.
    “If I did not want you would I do this?” growled out of him, his hands ripping her shirt open easily and leaving her exposed to his ravenous gaze. As dark orbs roamed her generous breasts, she found herself regretting the fact she normally went without a bra.
    A hot mouth enclosing around a sensitive nipple shocked her back to what was happening and that she had to stop it. Pulling at his thick, almost fur-like hair, she did her best to block out the zings of pleasure pulsing through her limbs to gather in her belly. “S-stop! I’m a human! You can’t say you won’t regret this later!” she protested in a last ditch effort to get through to him. Something deep inside her was honestly distressed at the thought that he might hate her for this. Might even despise her for not doing more to stop him.
    Vegeta only let out a possessive sound, releasing her slowly with a final swirl of his tongue. “I no longer care. You dared to fight back despite knowing I would destroy you. You are the only of these filth that I know would try something like shoving a cake in my face. Besides, I have had my eye on you a long time. Or have you not noticed?” rasped his unusual cadence in her ears, a hot, rough hand taking over where his mouth had left off. Biting back a lusty sound as she felt another pulse of need roll through her, Bulma found herself thinking back to all the little arguments they’d had back and forth over his stay.
    At first, he hadn’t even looked at her; let alone even speak to her. The only way he communicated had been through glares and grunts, wearing on her nerves as the weeks turned to months. She could still remember the day she had broken, yelling at him as soon as she had seen him in the hall. “I know you think you’re Mr. High and Mighty but, newsflash, you’re no longer a Prince! You wouldn’t even have a home if it wasn’t for me and my family! I know it must just burn the skin of your balls to show any sort of respect to those you consider below yourself but could you fuckin’ try?!” she had screamed, only realizing how poor of a choice that had been after she had finished her rant.
    Vegeta had glared at her like a bug under his boot before pushing his way past. Sighing and thanking Kami she had survived, she followed; going into the kitchen to make some breakfast. “Well, don’t just stand there woman. Cook me something too,” growled a demand from behind her, making her spin to face the source. The former Prince simply glowered at her impatiently, as if expecting her to jump to his demands immediately. Still, under her irritation, she had just been grateful he was speaking to her now.
    Shaking her head as she felt his tongue laving the skin of her neck while both his hands now worked her breasts, she found herself feeling a bit stunned. Had all the small snarking matches back and forth since then been nothing but a strange sort of foreplay? Had he been flirting with her? Even if he had been, why was he doing something about it now? Why had he suffered for four days, at least according to him? Was he in heat like she had theorized? Why did it have to be a full moon?
    It was only when he took her nipple in his mouth again that all these questions were wiped from her brain, his scent causing a fog to descend over her thoughts as she arched into his too hot body. “Wh-why?” she gasped out, her thighs rubbing together as she felt a tingling ball begin to form within her.
    “I think you know the answer. I’m in heat, have been for a few days now. I need some fuckin’ relief. So, please, can you just shut up for once?” hissed a half amused demand as he moved to her other breast, dextrous tongue ringing the pink sweet he found there with saliva.
    “Mnnn, oooooo. Gods, you’re good at that. B-but why the full moon?” she persisted, her thirst of knowledge demanding answers despite just wanting to let go. Chuckling around her, he gave her soft skin a bite in punishment before he was releasing her to give her a partially impatient smirk.
    “The child birthed from a union on the full moon will be abnormally strong. Besides that, the moon means a lot to us Saiyans,” he explained, hands moving to her pants to rip them and her underwear off her body.
    In an instant, his body was pressed against hers; muscles pulsing as his eyes closed. For a split second, his control slipped; allowing some of his fur to sprout. A low, ape-like grunt came from the bottom of his diaphragm as he seemed to gain some height and muscle mass, built frame shaking. It was only small hands that brought him back into focus, the fire raging inside him simmering down for the moment. Forcing his gaze on the female below him, he pushed his fur back into his body but kept the extra size. For once, he wanted to be bigger than this female; to be able to prove his dominance.
    Since his heat had started, she had haunted his brain; her sweet scent making him feel irritable. Then she had started being her usual self and fighting back. He had been lost after that, pursuing her with a singular goal. He wanted to claim this woman as his. She had been one of very few that was willing to fight back with little to no fear for how he would react. After such a long time of being feared, it was nice to have someone that presented him a challenge. Someone that didn’t cower or simper because he was angry. “Miiiine,” growled out of him as he gave her bare stomach a careful nip.
    Deadly fangs danced across her skin and all she could do was squirm as her blood continued to heat. All it would take is him biting a little too hard or squeezing her too tight and she would be gone. Yet, she felt more alive than she ever had. Each movement of Vegeta’s was deliberate, drawing out the most pleasure with the simplest of brushes. Compared to his skill, Yamcha’s attempts were blunt fumbling at best. Suddenly, his mouth was on her slit and colors were exploding in her vision.
    A talented tongue lapped at her puffy, outer lips, dipping inside on occasion as he let out a harsh snarl. Tilting her head back, Bulma buried her fingers in his flame-like hair as her hips rose to meet him. None of her boyfriends had ever done this for her. Even Yamcha wasn’t much for foreplay, preferring to get to business. The way this heartless killer was treating her was making her change her entire outlook on sex. Then he was suckling on her clit, her vision going white as a sharp cry left her plush lips.
    Dimly aware of the fact she was calling his name, the young heiress reached for him as he crawled over her to lock his lips on hers. Hips easily spreading hers, the mighty Saiyan placed his foreskin coated member at her quivering womanhood. “Tonight, you will be mine and no one else’s. We will be mated, part of eachother for the rest of our lives,” he announced, taking her lips in a rough embrace before he was entering her. Hands flying to his broad, sweaty back, her head dropped open into a silent ‘o’ as she relaxed as much as possible.
    Silky walls fluttered around him, feeling better than any of his conquests in the past. Even Saiyan women had feared him, simply rolling over to allow him to take what he wanted. His Bulma was different, always would be. Even her failed attempts to scratch his skin were appreciated, making him lower his power rating just enough that he could actually feel it. It had been far too long since someone had tried to hurt him during sex and he groaned as he began to move. **“Estàs lligat a mi per sempre. El meu amant, el meu amic, el meu company ... Et protegiré amb tot el que tinc. Tu ets l'únic que m'encanta. Tu ets l'únic que confio. Tu ets l'únic que portarà el meu fill,” he growled, using his native language as he tightened his grip with his tail.
    It was all Bulma could do to stay conscious, the sensations whirling within her coming close to being overwhelming. None of this was helped by the growling in her ear as a callused thumb brushed her throbbing clit. Letting out a gruff noise of her own, she found herself biting hard into his neck; a bit shocked by the coppery taste of blood in her mouth. Then she was tipping over the edge, releasing a cry of his name as she released his neck.
    Tightening his grip on the sheets, he barely held off his own end as he felt the sting of her teeth. She had reciprocated his mark! All manner of alien emotions filled him, affection being the top of the list. He almost lamented the fact that he was likely to treat her badly in the morning. He was not used to feelings, let alone ones centering around another person and wanting them to be close. He was far more used to being alone. Gritting his teeth as he exploded inside her, he reflected on the actuality she would want to be affectionate tomorrow.
    Humans seemed to want to cuddle, kiss or generally be around their chosen mate. Saiyans, on the other hand, wanted more space. The female never really wanted to be around the male and vice versa. The only time the pair ever knew they loved eachother was during the heat. Brushing his lips against hers, he pulled out so he could lay beside her and take her in his arms. “Remember tonight,” hissed his unsteady voice as real fear filled him for the first time. This would be his first and only mate, he loved her as much as he really could and he didn’t want to lose her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~First Month~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    She had woken up to the bed being empty. A fact that she wasn’t surprised by but still found painful. She had been a fool for believing his feelings for her went beyond sex. Sniffling and wiping away the tears, she got off the bed and went to her lab. She was unaware of a shorter figure watching her from the bathroom connected to the room. She never saw the look of guilt mixed with regret flash across normally furious features.
    He’d had a feeling the female would have appreciated waking up in his arms but he just hadn’t been certain. He wanted to offend her as little as possible. Sighing as he dried his hair from his shower, he had to wonder if his plan to treat her normally was a good one. Still, it was all he could think to do. Last thing he wanted to do was stir her up. It wouldn’t be good for her or the baby she now carried.
    Hours passed unnoticed, the young woman underground spending most of that time with her head on the desk. Because she was down here, she was left mostly alone by her mom and dad; both of them having mysteriously reappeared last night. She could still remember the rage that had filled her at the sight of them, making her point with a withering glare towards the pair that had given her life. Seeing them jump backwards and freeze had at least helped her feel a little better. Raising her head to look at the clock, she grimaced as another cramp of hunger overtook her. Once again, she had foregone breakfast.
    Reaching for her emergency chocolate stash under her desk, she knew she couldn’t keep going like this. They lived in the same house, they were bound to run into eachother. Still, just thinking about seeing him made her heart wrench in her chest. While last night should have been like every other one night stand she had, it wasn’t. His words, the way he had groomed her after, the way his arms had held her; had made it more. For a few, precious hours she had believed she was important to him. That she had finally found someone who loved her.
    Chomping down on the ‘Snackers’ bar with a vengeful expression, she chewed the bit of candy while making a vow. This was the last time she would allow herself to be taken in by a man. She had made such a vow many times with Yamcha but this time she meant it. She was tired of her heart having foot marks all over it. It was high time she started taking care of herself and that meant getting a breakfast that wasn’t mostly sugar. So, slamming the bar onto the desk, she shot to her feet to head to the blown out frame that used to be her door. She was shocked to see a plate sitting there already.
    It was heaped with a selection of fresh fruits, a bowl of cream and a couple pieces of toast sitting off to the side. Blinking, she bent to pick up the tray the plate was on; looking down the hall with an expression of consternation. It couldn’t have been her mom who had left it. The ditzy woman knew better than to get anywhere near her lab, unless it was an emergency. Her father was far to wrapped up in his own projects to bother. That only left one person and she found herself having a hard time believing it. There had to be a different explanation than Vegeta.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Month Two~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    Things had gone back to normal and she had no idea if she felt relieved or disappointed. On the one hand, the snarking back and forth helped give her a sense of comfort. On the other, it was like nothing had happened between them at all. On top of that, she had a fairly good suspicion she was pregnant. A week after the incident, she was unable to keep anything down in the morning.
    Now she was two months into it, groaning as she pulled her head out of the porcelain bowl in front of her. Unfortunately, she was no closer to figuring out just what she wanted to do about it. Being in her twenties, she felt like she was too young to have a child. Yet, just thinking about getting rid of it made her feel sick to her stomach. This was a living thing she was carrying, something she had made with the man she... had shared a very intimate night with. ‘Just say it, you love him,’ chided her mind as she tottered to her feet.
    ‘Shut up! I refuse to give my heart over to a cold-hearted bastard who acts like nothing at all happened between us,’ she spat at the internal voice, turning on the faucet so she could wash her mouth out.
    Still, as she left the bathroom to go into her bedroom, she knew that voice was right. As much as she hated to admit it, she had fallen for the short alien. Rubbing the right side of her neck where he had bitten her, she closed her eyes as her heart began to ache. Despite how she felt about him, she needed to tell him about this baby. He had a right to weigh in on whether or not she should keep it since it was his child too. “I hate having to be mature!” she protested loudly, stomping her foot and finding the release of tension pleasurable.
    Taking a breath, she looked down at her flat tummy with a slight frown. Like it or not, she had to be mature and rational right now. Shifting her gaze, she saw a tray of tea that had been set on the nightstand beside her table. It smelled strange, unlike anything her mother knew how to make. A mixture of sweet, musky and a hint of bitter that she normally wouldn’t like. Right now, however, it made her drool.
Grabbing the steaming cup and taking a sip, she was assaulted by a myriad of flavors she would have usually found repugnant. Yet, as soon as it touched her tongue, she felt her stomach settle. The tea itself seemed to be satisfying a craving her body was having and she was soon downing the entire pot. The moment it was gone, her stomach roared with hunger; driving her down to the kitchen. Before she knew it, she was making the first food she’d wanted in two months; unaware of eyes watching her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Month Three~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    The tea had become a normal thing, being left for her at intervals during the day. Even as she had entered her third month and the morning sickness began to taper off, the tea came. It was enough to make her wish she could sense ki. If anything, it gave her more motivation to finish her project. The sooner she had the device, the sooner she could see who it was. Mostly because she wanted to thank them and she abjectly refused to believe it was Vegeta. Even with all the evidence pointing at him, she found it improbable.
    It had to be Goku or maybe Yamcha. Anyone made more sense than the arrogant Prince who obviously saw her as nothing more than sexual relief. Still, under the stubbornness, she knew much better. Goku was much too gregarious to do anything sneaky. They often had to keep surprise parties a secret from him out of fear he would blow it. As for the former desert thief, he had lost a lot of his stealth skills over the years. Not to mention the fact he was currently involved with some blonde.
    Besides that, everything was far too precise to be anyone but Vegeta. He was a master tactician as well as warrior. He was well used to doing things in a way that would draw little attention to himself. “It just can’t be him. Vegeta isn’t like that,” she grumbled to the empty room.
    “Like what, woman?” rasped an even mid-tone from the hall, making her blood go cold at the same time her temper flared.
    “None of your business! Just what are you doing down here anyway? Aren’t you supposed to be training,” she snapped back without really thinking. Her houseguest merely smirked at her in response as he moved into the room.
    “I believe it is my business when you’re talking about me,” purred his all too satisfied voice as his dark eyes roamed over her body.
    Just feeling his gaze on her skin made her squirm despite herself, a sensation of self-loathing flaring up inside her. She didn’t want to have any reaction to him dammit! She certainly didn’t want to feel the beginnings of arousal. “Oh, just go back under whatever rock you crawled out from,” hissed out of her, some part of her enjoying this back and forth. From what she could tell, the ex-monarch was enjoying it too.
    “I don’t want to. You’ve been acting weird and I want to know why,” snarled a sharp demand, the tiny hint of playfulness gone.
    Jolting, Bulma began to nibble her lower lip. With his sense of smell, it was possible he could already know she was pregnant. There was a good chance he had been waiting for her to confess, if that was the case. Then again, she could just be paranoid and that odd glint in his bottomless orbs could mean nothing.   Still, either way, now was a perfect time to tell him. She just wished she had come up with an answer of what she wanted to do about it. “I’m pregnant,” announced her voice flatly, the words making a chill settle over her body.
    To her shock, he enveloping her in his arms; nuzzling her stomach with a gruff purr. Even his tail had unwound from his waist, wagging behind him. “I have known since the morning after. Still, its good to hear you say it,” mumbled his rasp of a voice, hands twitching on her back as she stared down at him. Of all the reactions, she hadn’t expected this. She’d expected anger, even indifference. This response was honestly confusing the shit out of her. She found herself at a loss for how to reply.
    “Y-you mean you want to keep it?” she blurted, honestly a bit shocked when he looked up to give her a rather sardonic look.
    “Of course I do! This child is of my blood, a spawn of the line of Vegeta,” declared a steely growl, as if wondering how she could think otherwise.
    “The baby will be a hybrid,” pointed out a distant vocalization that sounded a lot like her. A good point bring up in her opinion. Vegeta had shown nothing but disdain for Gohan and his heritage. She had expected him to act the same way towards this child.
    “I knew that when I mated you. As much as I hate to admit it, Kakarot’s brat is strong. Our own will be twice as strong,” boasted his normal arrogance.
    A snort of laughter left her despite her anger and hurt. He already sounded like a doting father, a fact that kind of threw her for a loop. She had expected anything near this depth of emotion and highly doubted he would be as comfortable showing it around the others. There was also the fact that he had treated her like normal up until now. All the contradictory behavior honestly made her head hurt. So, with a frustrated noise, she pushed away from him until there was a bit of distance between their bodies.
    To her surprise, he let her go willingly; his permanent frown deepening slightly. “You need to make up your mind. Either we’re together or we aren’t, you can’t have it both ways,” hissed her bitter voice, arms crossing over her perky boobs as blue eyes leveled him with an icy glare. He met her gaze challengingly, just a hint of guilt shimmering in his dark orbs.
    “How am I supposed to treat you?” gritted out of him, just a thread of sincerity in his tone. Unfortunately, his poor choice of words got him in trouble.
    Seeing red, Bulma felt rage take over all her reason. The fact that she had heard his genuine plea was swept away by the offense she took to his wording and tone. “Like you actually care? Like I actually mean something to you?” she spat, feeling some of her anger ebb when she saw the unease in the former villain’s dark eyes.
    “I... don’t know how...,” came a husked admission that was so quiet she wondered if she had heard it at all. It was completely out of character for him to admit to his flaws and weaknesses like this. It almost made her wonder if she meant as much to him as he had said she did during their one night together.
    “I did the best I could to care for you though. I made sure you were eating and brought you a tea my own mother showed me. It was for the day I found a wife and she became pregnant. A mixture for morning sickness,” continued his nearly silent murmur as he glared at the floor, gloved hands fisted at his sides as his ki flared just slightly.
    He was obviously not used to conversations like this and was struggling to see it through for her sake. It was then that it dawned upon her that all the signs had been there. They had just been incredibly subtle, much like the male that had chosen her. Little looks of appreciation here and there, extra body contact, the fact that he lingered near her room in the mornings, the fact that he brought her food. All these came together in her mind in a rush of realization. It may not be as overt as words or flowers, but he had been showing his love in his own way. “Vegeta...,” she whispered, feeling like an utter bitch for not realizing it sooner.
    “Peace. No use crying over it. I am not an overt person my Bulma. You must be patient with me and learn the signs,” came a very humble request as he lifted his head to kiss her lips.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Month Four~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    In public, they were their usual selves. Getting along about as well as oil and water. In private, the pair dropped their walls. They allowed themselves to talk frankly, Vegeta’s tail often wrapped around some part of her. Yet, tonight the Prince seemed unsettled; gloved hands resting on the tiny swell of her stomach. “I have to leave soon,” he whispered, voice gruff with guilt. Just hearing those words made her heart drop into the pit of her stomach.
    “Will you be back in time?” whispered a shy question as smaller hands came to rest over leather covered ones.
    “I... I don’t know,” rasped a shameful response, fingers twitching ever so slightly as he looked up to gauge her expression.
    Heartbreak was clear in her youthful face, making him hate himself more than he already did. He was loathe to leave the only woman he could share himself with. Especially since she carried his child. Normal Saiyan births were well known to be hard on both mother and child. It was hard to say what would happen during a hybrid birth. Yet, he had little choice. Time was slipping away from him and he had yet to achieve his ultimate goal. Ascendence to Super Saiyan.
    Just knowing that one as lowly as Kakarot had not only beaten him but had obtained what he could not made him want to destroy things. Not only that but he needed to be in top condition for when the Androids arrived. There was no telling how powerful they would be or even if the stranger from the future had been correct. Remembering the odd boy filled him with questions. While being strong, the signal of his ki had been dulled, as if he was trying to hide his identity. Needless to say, this didn’t help him trust the lad. “Just be safe?” whispered a voice from above him, bringing him out of his thoughts.
    Smirking, Vegeta raised a brow arrogantly. “As if there is anything that could stand against the Prince of all Saiyans,” he bragged, feeling something inside him lift when she smiled.
    “I guess not. I’ll pack some food for the journey,” Bulma whispered, getting to her feet to head to the kitchen.
    While outwardly handling all of this very well, on the inside she was breaking. She didn’t want to give birth alone! Being pregnant with a baby that was half alien left her with fairly limited medical choices. Her best hope was ChiChi, Goku and Baba; a thought that made her shudder down to the marrow of her bones. None of them seemed like qualified midwives and wouldn’t set her at ease nearly as much as Vegeta. While often rude or downright nasty, he could be level-headed when the situation called for it. Also, with his background as a warrior, he was bound to know a bit about childbirth.
    Feeling tears roll down her cheeks as she began to encapsulate all manner of food, the heiress prayed to all the Gods above that he would come back in time. She wanted him to be the one to coach her, to hold their child for the first time, to cut the cord. She was so caught up in her misery that she didn’t see her partner watching her from the shadows. He looked just as miserable as she did, corners of his mouth turned down while his arms crossed over his armored chest.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Month Five~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    Telling her friends had been a huge mistake, especially Yamcha. Literally everyone bombarded her with questions with two exceptions, Goku and Piccolo. While she could understand the Namekian’s reticence, her long time friend was another matter. His dark eyes sparkled with an inner glee and excitement that told her he knew far too much about what had happened. It almost made her want to question him if he had known this was going to happen.
    She’d had to shake her head of the absurd notion before giving him a hug and launching into memories of the old days. When they left, she couldn’t help but feel relieved. Even now, weeks later, she felt guilty about the look on Yamcha’s face when he had gotten the news. He looked like his entire world had been pulled out from under him, his eyes going dull as he wandered around like a zombie for most of the night. Even though he hadn’t been the most faithful or thoughtful, it was still hard for her to see him like that. It was like a piece of his soul had simply died off. Her only solace was that he was likely to get over it in a few days, if their past was any indication.
    The hardest part was being alone once everyone was gone. Staring up at the empty sky and counting the stars, she could help but wonder where he was. If he was alright. If he was ever going to return or if everything he had told her had been a lie. Clutching her hand over her aching heart, she felt a tear trail down her cheek as she closed her eyes. “Be safe,” she whispered softly, opening her eyes again as she settled in for a long night.
    On a deserted piece of rock, a certain Prince stopped just as he was about to blast a bit of rock into oblivion. Etched frown softening slightly, he lowered his hand as his own eyes closed. At one time, he would have been furious about a lowly woman like that affecting him so badly. Since he had mated Bulma, he no longer wanted to hide his true feelings. At least around her. “I miss you too,” whispered his scratchy mid-tone before he was getting back to work, the next blast considerably larger than the previous one.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Month Six~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    To say her mood-swings were intense would be like saying a hurricane was nothing more than a tornado with attitude. She had become a downright danger to those around her, switching from fine to angry on a dime. Worst thing was, her pregnancy was allowing her to develop some ki powers. Powers she discovered when she had accidentally exploded the fridge with an unmeaning blast from her hand during a temper tantrum toward her father. They had both stared at the smoldering crater where the appliance had been before the blue haired genius quickly excused herself.
    Ever since, she had shut herself in the lab; gaining control over her powers. Thankfully, Goku was more than glad to help on that front; delighted she had ‘finally joined the club’. A week later and she could do a simple ki blast with the best of them, able to turn off her powers when she didn’t need them. Still, Bulma spent a lot more time tinkering. As much as she had improved, she just didn’t want to take any unnecessary chances.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Month Seven~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    Staring at the open fridge, Bulma was irritated to find nothing that spoke to the hunger tearing its way through her pregnant body. It was unlike anything she had felt before, ravening and almost seeming to be alive. Groaning as a cramp squeezed her empty gullet, she slammed the fridge shut hard enough to make the door go flying off; losing control of her temporary ki for a moment. If she didn’t get what her body wanted soon, she felt like she was going to die.
    A knock at the door startled her out of her muddled thoughts, angry eyes moving to the door like it was to blame. Grumbling, she made her way to the polished wood; only to jump back when Goku teleported through. With a wide smile, he handed her a bleeding chunk of meat that was still warm and twitching; making her squeal with disgust. Yet, despite her urge to throw it away from herself, her arms tightening their hold. The smell of fresh coppery blood had her drooling, her stomach crying out for the foreign food.
    Next thing she knew, she was tearing into it like a starving dog; the taste of raw meat dominant in her mouth. Instead of retching, her jaw kept chewing; her body automatically swallowing. Despite not wanting it, it seemed her baby certainly did. All she could do was hope it didn’t get her horribly ill, licking the blood off her lips as she finished. Giving her friend a shamefaced grin, Bulma really wished she could vomit right now.
    What she had done was gross and wrong in so many ways. The way her childhood friend kept beaming at her didn’t help the awkward feeling. “Wow, you made it through without puking! ChiChi wasn’t able to keep her first one down,” he praised, ruffling her blue hair affectionately.
    “Y-you mean she had cravings like this with Gohan?” she squeaked, jaw hanging open as she tried to picture the prissy woman eating anything raw.
    “Yeah, wouldn’t believe how bad it was. Had to go hunting several times a day once she could keep it down,” came the innocent response as he lifted up what looked like a giant lizard’s tail.
    Feeling nauseous all over again, Bulma shuddered as she met the well-meaning male’s eyes. “But, how did you know I needed it at this moment?” she asked, the question nagging at her more than how she was keeping what she’d eaten down.
    “‘Geta told me. Also, he asked me to stay with ya a while. Something about needing a Saiyan in the vicinity,” chirped the cheerful warrior, looking as if he was talking about something no more interesting than paint drying.
    “B-but how did he speak to you if he’s out in space?!” came a quick protest, confusion welling inside her. Goku simply tapped his head, a worried expression coming over his face as he led her to a couch to sit down.
    “I taught him how to use telepathy to communicate before he left, in case you were in trouble. A mate can sense what the other is feeling,” came the simple answer that she frankly expected. Honestly she had some background feelings that weren’t quite hers, now that she thought about it.
    “He’s worried ‘bout ya both. Always knew he was a good guy deep down,” the naive Saiyan chirped, wandering off into the kitchen for a glass of water. Bulma could only sit on the couch, wondering if she could somehow send a message back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Month Eight~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    Weightlessness, a feeling of peace he had long struggled for. For months, he had wasted time training simply to defeat Kakarot. Instead, he should have been striving for the power he needed to protect his family. Just thinking about what the Androids could do to Bulma alone was enough to bring him to the brink, bringing on the revelation that had changed his outlook. Suddenly, a sharp pain came across his connection with his mate; making him jump to his feet while his eyes opened.
    Stretching out his senses, he could sense their cub moving within her; likely causing the pain. Growling, he sent a mental command to the infant; begrudgingly using the technique Kakarot had taught him. This was enough to calm the forming babe for now but it wouldn’t be for long. There was no guarantee the cub would accept the low warrior’s presence over his own, making things rather difficult. Making another gruff noise as he began to pace, he began to weigh the option of heading home. His Bulma would soon need him and he was finding it hard to resist the urge to be by her side.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Month Nine~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    Some time near the end of her eighth month, her lab had turned into an odd nest. Some instinct buried deep inside her called her to find somewhere to hide, somewhere safe to have her child. She hadn’t even let Goku know where she had built it, spending as much time in her little ‘cave’ as possible. In the center was a heap of pillows and blankets, the area around it immaculately clean.
    Glaring at the door she’d replaced, Bulma experienced a strange surge of aggression when she sensed the visiting Saiyan shift his position upstairs. While she normally loved the jolly male, she found his presence especially grating lately. For about a week, she had felt her skin crawling if she so much as brushed him; something deep inside rejecting him in every way. ‘Not mate’ growled a dark voice from inside her as she shuddered.
    Moaning softly, she shifted her wild gaze to her swollen stomach; her ki rising as a contraction rolled over her body. They had started this morning and she was honestly surprised her companion upstairs hadn’t smelled it. Hunching into herself to protect the coming child, she tried her best to send a mental message. So far she had been unsuccessful but this time, she poured everything she had into the effort.
    Staring at the blurs outside his ship, Vegeta winced as he was slammed with yet another frantic message. One that was garbled and yet made perfect sense at the same time. His mate was calling to him, had been since yesterday. Unfortunately, all he could do was wait until the ship he had taken returned him to Earth. While he had learned how to communicate, his pride had prevented him from pursuing teleportation; a decision he had come to deeply regret. Especially now that the cub was coming.
    According to messages from Kakarot, both Bulma and the unborn cub had rejected him. Therefore, it was decided it was best the idiot give the expectant mother space. With her instincts likely going haywire, she would not only lash out but would likely run. Needless to say, no one wanted the latter. This also added an extra complication to the birth. Both the mother and child would need a Saiyan present, for comfort as well as an exchange of energy. The birth would be draining on both. Many died during the act simply because their mate wasn’t able to be present or their child rejected the caretaker that had been chosen. A situation where both the child and mother rejected the caretaker was almost unheard of and only heightened his worry.
    Slamming a gloved fist into a metal wall and leaving a considerable dent, Vegeta bared his teeth in frustration as he closed his eyes. “I’ll be there as soon as I can, I promise,” he husked out loud, also sending the message to his laboring woman. The relief that came across their connection only helped him relax slightly. While she had gotten his message, there was no guarantee the child inside her would.
    The hours crept by, contractions wracking her body as she paced the best she could. Low, animal-like growls left her on occasion while all her rationality continued to leave. It was a very strange process, leaving her unable to think beyond calling to her missing mate. Despite him answering her, Bulma found herself unable to stop. As their child grew closer to arriving, the more desperate she became for his presence; hissing as she went into a squat against one of the walls.
    If she were her normal self, she would have been fascinated by her own odd behavior. It was like the more wild part of her had taken over, driving all of her actions. If anyone but Vegeta came through that door right now, they would be singularly disintegrated. Even her own parents wouldn’t be exempt, an abnormal protectiveness of her coming child filling her. It was like this pregnancy was turning her into an animal and she could only watch. Gritting her teeth while her bangs stuck to her sweaty forehead, she cradled her huge stomach as she felt the child drop inside her. It wouldn’t be much longer and she waddled over to the makeshift nest she had made for herself, letting out a breath as she prepared for what was to come.
    Staring at the controls like they would tell him better news, the former Prince let out a quiet growl before resuming his pacing. Each pain she felt, he could feel as well. He could also feel the beginnings of distress from both Bulma and their child, making his instincts rage as his tail switched angrily. He was still a few miles out and all he wanted to do was tear his way through the vehicle to finish the trip himself. Surely his own speed could outmatch that of this infuriating machine’s.
    Hissing a quiet curse, he watched the stars blurred by as he tried to restrain himself from doing just that. He had no idea what the planet’s atmosphere would do to his body. There was also the fact that the ship wasn’t his and Bulma would likely skin him him alive for wrecking it. Her father had built it for him with extremely customized specifications. It had taken months and he had done nothing but pester the both of them during construction. He would just have to wait, wearing a hole in the floor as he moved back and forth.
    A low, shuddering noise echoed off the walls as she squatted down and pushed. No matter how hard she tried, the child inside her wouldn’t come. Panting as yet another pain began to ebb away. She should feel the head of the baby pressing against her hips, giving her the sensation of intense pressure as well as an urge to just get the infant out of her. Yet it refused to budge, filling the young woman with frustration as well as fear. She was quickly running out of stamina and was beginning to honestly wonder if they would both make it through this ordeal alive.
    Suddenly, she could sense a familiar and all too welcome power level approaching; her gaze snapping to the ceiling while her thighs shuddered with exhaustion and effort. He was coming, even the child inside her seeming to sense it. While it wasn’t born yet, it sent out a blast of ki; likely in an effort to communicate with its father. She was comforted to sense a returning signal from Vegeta, confirming her suspicions. Her mate would be here within a matter of moments and she honestly felt a bit excited that he would be with her again.
    Even before the blasted thing had landed, he was punching the buttons to open the door. He had set it on autopilot to handle the landing alone. Besides that, he really didn’t care what happened to the hunk of junk. The thing tantamount in his mind was his mate and the constant stream of stress that was coming from her end. As he feared, their child was refusing to come without him; sending out faint calls of its own. Being a bit impressed his cub was already this strong, he sent a soothing wave back.
    He was rewarded with a burst of happiness as well as a faint touch from the babe. It was as if the child couldn’t believe he was really there. Then, another contraction shuddered across the connection and he could feel his mate pushing. On top of that, the cub was finally allowing itself to come; simply because he had arrived. Grimacing, he flared his ki and fairly flew down to where the energy signature was the strongest.
    As he made his way to the lab, he found himself amused that she had chosen this place. Each female was different when their time came, choosing a spot that made them feel the most safe. It was no surprise to anyone that knew her that she had chosen here. So, with a careful flare of his ki, he made sure she knew it was him before approaching the door. As soon as it opened, he was greeted with a sight that made his own instincts rush forward.
    Bulma was flushed and moaning as she squatted down to push, naked as the day she was born. Milk laden breasts were swinging pendulously as her nethers bulged, a shock of purple hair just beginning to emerge from her red looking slit. Darting forward, he took her in strong arms to support her weight; tugging off his leather gloves with his teeth in the process. Then, without warning, he was resting a roughened hand on her womanhood; rubbing the abused skin to help increase blood flow.
    Whimpering and just grateful to feel his reassuring energy, the young inventress leaned back into the fighter; panting as the contraction slowly slacked off. Unable to speak, she simply whined as she nuzzled into his cheek; hips shifting restlessly. She could sense it wouldn’t be much longer, her conscious mind shoved to the very back for now. Right now, she was raw, motherly instinct; ready to kill to protect the coming offspring. A soft, unknown language was murmured in her ear as she prepared for the next wave, the unrecognizable words bringing her some comfort.
    All too soon, she was pushing again; her ki flaring in response as she let out a loud wail. The head of her child was slowly spreading her taut lips open, creating an uncomfortable burning sensation. Vegeta let out some of his own energy in response, rumbling softly as she felt some of the burning let up while he rubbed her. Slowly, her sounds of pain changed to something else; almost sounding sexual as more of the infant emerged. Bit by bit, she could feel the head coming; slumping slightly when it finally came free amid a rush of fluids. “V-vegeta,” she gasped unsurely, getting a purr in response.
    Holding his cub’s head in place, feeling the blood and fluid on his hand; it was an entirely different experience. Up until this moment, he had thought ripping out your opponent’s heart or utterly crushing them was the ultimate pleasure. Then his mate was heaving again, straining with the effort of bringing forth their offspring. With her efforts, the first shoulder began to come; causing pride to swell within him. Most women would be screaming for it to be over, the child’s ki tearing them apart from the inside. Her body was channeling the excess energy instead, making it her own. It was a shame it would disappear once the child was here.
    Pulling gently as she pushed, the first shoulder slid free. It was soon followed by a second, earning a snarl from the laboring mother. Then, to his surprise, she kept going; seeming to just want the whole thing over with. Chuffing his encouragement, he kept pulling; ending up with his squirming son in his arms. Just looking down at the child reminded him of the boy from the future, making the fur on his tail bristle. Bulma collapsing from exhaustion was the only thing that got his attention.
    As soon as the baby was born, everything left and pain overwhelmed her. The ki that had inhabited her had also fled, leaving her with her all too human weaknesses. Barely able to keep her eyes open, she was aware of Vegeta covering her with a blanket before laying beside her; placing the naked newborn on her chest. Instead of crying, the slightly bloody baby was staring at everything with a vaguely angry expression; reminding her of the man holding her. “Trunks. We’ll call him Trunks,” she murmured, covering the infant with the blanket and allowing him to latch to one of her leaking nipples. She was unaware of the odd look her mate was giving their child.

** Translation: ‘You are tied to me forever. My lover, my friend, my mate... I will protect you with everything I have. You are the only one I love. You are the only one I trust. You are the only one who will ever carry my child.’
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Luna Ilena