One - Written by PhantomScribe72

Chapter 11

“Trunks, don’t throw your cup across the room,” Bulma chided her son. She picked up the cup and placed it back on the tray of the high chair. She stood back and considered how much he had grown. It was a shame his father was missing all of this.

Bulma shook away the thought. “Now Bulma, she muttered to herself, “you know it won’t do you any good to start wishing things were different,”

Bulma hadn’t seen Vegeta in months, not since the night she had accused him of not caring about her and Trunks. She was so upset that she had stayed in the nursery that night, and Vegeta had already left by the time she woke up the next morning. She missed him terribly and she regretted pushing him so far that night. “Well,” she grumbled, “it’s all water under the bridge now,”

“You know,” an amused voice said from the door, “they say the first sign of insanity is talking to yourself.”

“Yamcha!” Bulma screamed, “don’t sneak up on me like that!”

Yamcha laughed and walked over to Bulma and hugged her tightly, “Sorry, princess,” he said affectionately, “you were wrapped up in your thoughts.”

“Yes,” Bulma sighed, “I guess I was.”

“Bet I can guess what, or should I say who you were thinking about,” he said as he walked over to the high chair and ruffled Trunk’s hair. “Hey, slugger...have you missed me.”

Trunks squealed with delight. Yamcha was one of his most favorite people. Yamcha leaned down and kissed the baby on the forehead then turned his attention back to Bulma. “Well, all of this worrying over Vegeta hasn’t seem to hurt you too much,” he said flirtatiously, “you still look as gorgeous as ever.”

Bulma smiled a genuine smile, “Thanks, Yamcha,” she said, “you don’t look so bad yourself.”

“Yeah well,” Yamcha said stroking his chin, “these good looks are a curse I’m forced to bear.”

Bulma burst out laughing and hugged Yamcha tightly. “I’m really glad to see you,” she said affectionately, “but what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be training? I mean, the androids are due to arrive tomorrow.”

“That’s why I’m here,” he answered, “I wanted to spend what could be my last day with you and Trunks.”

“Yamcha, don’t even think that way!” Bulma rebuked. “No one’s going to die.”

“Then let’s just say that I wanted to see you then,” he said, “besides, I’ve trained for three straight years. One more day isn’t going to make a difference.”

“I guess not,” said Bulma, “and I’d be thrilled to have your company today.”

“Great,” Yamcha said lifting Trunks out of his highchair, “now that it’s settled, what do you want to do today?”

Bulma smiled and patted Trunks on the head. He was covered with his breakfast. “Well, I think the first thing we ought to do is to give this little monkey a bath...then we’ll just take things as they come.”

Yamcha smiled and carried Trunks upstairs to the bathroom. Bulma followed closely behind him, wishing with all her heart that it was Vegeta and not Yamcha that carried her son in his arms.

Late that night and exhausted Bulma laid Trunks down in his crib and kissed him goodnight. She silently closed the door to the nursery and went down to the kitchen where Yamcha was waiting for her.

“I had a ball today, Yamcha,” Bulma said with a smile, “thank you.”

“I had fun too,” Yamcha replied, “but I guess should get going.”

Bulma placed a hand on his arm, “Why don’t you just stay here tonight. It’s very late and you have a big day ahead of you tomorrow.”

“Listen Bulma,” Yamcha said in a serious tone, “I don’t think that’s such a good idea.” “I meant in the guestroom,” Bulma said sternly.

Yamcha’s eyes widened. “I know what you meant,” he snapped, “it’s just that I don’t want to give your parents...or anyone else the wrong idea.”

“What wrong idea?” Bulma asked, “everyone knows you’ve been my closest friend over the past few months. Besides, I’m going out to see the androids in the morning and if you stay here with me we can just go together.”

“What do you mean you’re going out to see the androids tomorrow?” Yamcha asked in shock, “Bulma, that’s crazy!”

“No it’s not,” she returned firmly, “I have to go...I have to see him...just in case.”

“He’s not worth putting yourself in danger,” Yamcha grumbled.

“Yes he is,” Bulma shot back, “I am going Yamcha whether you approve or not. What’s more, I’m taking Trunks with me.”

“Your nuts, Princess,” Yamcha mumbled, “but if you’ve made up your stubborn little mind I know there’s not a damn thing I can do to change it.”

“That’s right,” Bulma huffed, “so are you staying or not?”

“I’m staying,” he gave in, “just lead me to a bed.”

Vegeta landed silently on Bulma’s balcony. He had waited until the dead of night to pay this little visit, hoping that the woman would be dead asleep. He quietly slid open the glass door and slipped inside of the room. Much to his relief, he saw her lying on her stomach in the bed, dead to the world. He inhaled a sharp breath as he examined her. She seemed to be even more beautiful than he remembered. He reached down and gently brushed a stray lock of hair from her eyes then leaned over and placed a whisper of a kiss on her forehead.

He stepped away from the bed and sighed raggedly. He shouldn’t even be here, he thought to himself. He should have been strong enough to leave well enough alone...but he couldn’t help himself. He needed to see her...and his son one last time. He had been training non stop for months and had achieved a power level that he had never thought possible, but he knew that there was still a chance that the prediction of his death would come true.

He floated quietly out of the room and into the nursery. He looked at the child lying in the crib with unrestrained pride. The boy had grown significantly in his absence. He reached down and took the baby’s small hand in his.

“When this is over,” Vegeta whispered, “I’ll come home and you will come to know me as your father.”

The baby opened his eyes briefly and sighed contentedly before rolling over and letting out a fitful snore. Vegeta couldn’t stop the smile that spread across his face.

He left the nursery and was on his way back to Bulma’s room when he noticed a strange energy presence in the house...someone who didn’t belong there. He recognized it almost immediately. He felt the fury well up within him. What was that weakling doing sleeping in his home with his family? Had the woman replaced him so quickly?

He flew back into the woman’s room and looked at her through eyes filled with murderous rage. It took every bit of self-control he possessed not to blast her to bits. He turned his back on her for what he vowed would be the last time and flew out of the window and into the night.

Bulma awoke with a start and looked around the room frantically. The air was thick with hatred...she could almost smell it. Had Vegeta been in here? Why was he so angry? Had she been dreaming some horrible dream? She couldn’t stop the tears that started slowing freely from her eyes.

“Vegeta,” she moaned sadly and covered her head with a pillow and sobbed in anguish.

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