Saiyan Cells: The Finale

oooOOOooo

A bead of sweat races down Bulma's cheek as if it has a point to prove, and she doesn't bother to wipe it away, instead letting it fall triumphantly to the floor of the gravity chamber.

Her hands twist and turn inside a bot, weaving wires together as if they are waltzing, and finally she has it done. Well, she has one done, but scattered around her body are about a dozen more, sitting lifeless until her dutiful fingers can breathe into them again.

She hopes that fixing them will ease the waterfall of thoughts that are birthed in her brain, but of course that doesn't work. After all, she isn't fixing these bots because she has nothing better to do. In fact, it's quite the contrary. There's a stack of papers on her desk right now that are demanding her lab coat and attention, but she forgoes her work attire for an old pair of overalls and a tube top, something that will give her some breathing room for the next several hours. Her eyes roll up to the calendar before she can grant them permission, and she tries to mask the smile that spreads across her mouth. Vegeta is due back in two days. She wants to pretend she isn't excited, that Vegeta returning to Capsule Corps will be a bigger pain in the ass than she has time for, but the lie is gone as quickly as it came. Every inch of her body is ecstatic with anticipation, even though she knows her goal will not come as quickly as she would like (and neither will she, for that matter).

But still…

She shuts up her wandering thoughts and focuses back on the task set before her, setting the bot down gently against the wall. She scoops another one up and immediately gets to work, her hands on autopilot as they dig through the compartment to rewire and reset the functionality of the bot. He'd better appreciate this, she threatens the silence in her head, otherwise I'm going to blow every single one of these up in front of his smug little face!

She doesn't even notice the hours that trickle by, and before she knows it she has four completed bots joining the first, and Bulma smiles a bit at her collection. Only eight more, she thinks with glee, and she swallows down the hours she estimates this will take. If she thinks about it, she'll get discouraged. If she works through it, she'll be too tired to do anything else. But at least one person can be happy, if that one person even knows how to be happy.

He seemed pretty content when he was inside of you.

She chuckles to herself at the subconscious thought and goes back to work.

She's starting to wish she had put on a different top instead of this constricting one that displays her arms and midriff, because, god, did the temperature really drop in here. She shakes it off, telling herself she can enjoy the warmth of a bath and delicate sheets after she's finished. Something to look forward to at least.

She's assuming that the long hours are finally getting to her, because she's having to squint harder to see the wires and control panel whereas before it was on full display. The white paint of the bot has been stained red, and Bulma checks to see if she's injured herself before she realizes the entire room has been soaked in the color of blood. She lets out a frustrated groan and prepares to turn around, blaming the shift in lighting to some random schmoe that works in maintenance. She sets the bot on the ground in disappointment and turns around….

…To be swallowed completely in the shadow of Vegeta.

Instinctively she scoots back towards the wall, a yelp escaping from her lips before she can manage to stifle it. Vegeta looks at her with his trademark scowl, his arms folded across his chest as if he's trying to keep himself warm from the frigid air. The red light of the room makes his face even more sinister, as if she's staring at the devil himself. Close enough.

"Vegeta," she presses a hand to her chest and tries to settle her beating heart, woken in fright of his announced arrival, "You weren't due back for at least two days! How'd you get here so quickly?"

His stoic expression hasn't changed, and Bulma realizes that he's not looking at her. His eyes are burning into the neat pile of reconstructed bots lined against the wall, and the indents of his mouth curl downward into a frustrated frown. The silence wages on before he scowls, replacing the void of his words with a, "I thought I told you I didn't need them."

Bulma follows his line of sight to the wall guiltily, until the ache in her lower back reminds her of what she's been doing for the better half of the day. Suddenly a fire blazes in the lining of her belly, and she allows it to soar through her body until it douses her words. "Well welcome back to you too, asshole," she stands to her feet and mimics his stance, folding her arms across the front of her jean overalls, "You have a funny way of saying thank you!"

"I'm not thanking you," his words drip with anger and he at last brings his stare to her, flashing the most god awful evil expression he can muster, "Why should I thank a disobedient shrew who's prancing about in my chamber?"

Bulma grits her teeth and clenches her fists, unable to believe that Vegeta could amaze her yet again. "I don't even know why I was looking forward to you coming home. You're a pain in my fucking ass!"

"Hmph," one side of his mouth has uprooted crookedly as he smiles, "Believe me when I say that the feeling is entirely mutual."

"Oh?" Her eyebrow raises and she places a hand on her hip, grinning at him knowingly, "So you were excited to come home? Don't try to change your face now, you've already said it!" Indeed his face has dropped and his lips try to sputter out some sort of response, but Bulma isn't letting him go that easily. She's enjoying watching him squirm in discomfort, then perhaps he can feel half of her humiliation every time she's forced to sleep under the baritone of his silky voice. "I knew you couldn't stay away from such a beautiful genius like me, Vegeta. I don't know why you would even kid yourself!"

"Shut up!" His fists clench and his eyebrows squish together until they form a singular line, but even the red of the room can't hide the red that stains his cheeks, and it's more than enough evidence to let Bulma know she's hit some nerve of the truth. "Every time you speak, you give an insult to my intelligence! Talking with you, among other things, is a complete waste of my time!"

This makes Bulma's giddy disposition crumble and it's her turn to scowl. "Among other things?" Sleeping at the bottom of her words is a sliver of hurt, but Bulma tries to hide it as best as she can, although the daggers coming out of her mouth are enough to cut the tense lines of Vegeta's face. "You mean sleeping with me? That's funny, because it sure as hell didn't seem like you cared about your precious time when you came for me! Twice!"

Vegeta's face has darkened to the shadow before midnight, reminding her of the brute that appeared on television and threatened to blow up the planet. She finds herself thrown back into time under the fear that accompanied the almighty Prince Vegeta. She wants to tell herself that they're two different people, that there's no way in hell she would open up her legs to some mass murderer, one who didn't show an ounce of redemption anyways. Gohan had said so himself; Vegeta wasn't the same asshole that came to earth (albeit still an asshole), and maybe his father was right in the act of leaving him alive. But the way his stare burns her up makes her skin crawl with regret, and she's hoping that she's either A) as hopeful as Goku or B) not as naïve as he is.

"I never slept with you!" He barks out, his pitchy voice a contrast to his gruesome face, "I may have…mated with you, but there was no act of sleeping at your side at all!"

Bulma can't help but to throw out a laugh at his misunderstanding and her own inability to trust herself. Vegeta's still got a long way to go, but that Vegeta that came to earth with the bald man would have burnt a hole in her chest by now. This Vegeta was entertaining at least, if not flustered.

"What the hell are you laughing at!?"

Bulma waves him off, shaking her head and biting back the last few chuckles that form in her throat. "You are a piece of work, Vegeta," she swallows and folds her arms across her chest, "I feel sorry for the harem of ladies you've left high and dry across the galaxy. Not sleeping with them, indeed!"

Vegeta raises an eyebrow at her accusation, making Bulma doubt her words. Surely, she's right, isn't she? There's no way that Vegeta, asshole extraordinaire, could have planet hopped around the solar system and not have his share of women to bed? Bulma runs her eyes over him, completing an imaginary check list. He is handsome, she admires, with his sharp jawline and piercing eyes, the features of his face complimenting each other in a way that seems man made and not pure genetics. The physique that he works so hard to maintain would make any female creature want to run her fingers down him, and after seeing his performance first hand, Bulma convinces herself that he must have had tons of practice. But the honest question that is sitting dormant on his face makes her want to retract her theory.

"A harem of women?" He inquires, running his tongue over the repetition of her words, "What makes you think I've willingly supplied my reproductive organ with the vile females of the planets I've frequented?"

Reproductive organ. Right. Leave it to Vegeta to be that much of a prude to be so politically correct. "Haven't you? After all, you so willingly shared your dick with me! What leads me to believe that others haven't had the magic of your cock?"

"You vulgar, impudent , lousy…" he grits his teeth and trails off, taking his eyes off of her momentarily as he tries to shake off her cheeky descriptions, "For starters, you sound like some jealous lover-"

"- I'm anything but that!"

"And two," he holds up two fingers to emphasize his words, "You couldn't be more than wrong. I won't have you verbally tarnishing the sanctity of a Saiyan elite -of a Saiyan prince! I'll have you know, not that it's any of your business, that I have only bedded three women in my entire life, and that's including the misfortune of yourself!"

Bulma's too busy chewing over his admission to take offense to his slight, and she blinks away her disbelief. "Only three!? That's impossible to believe!"

"Just because you've probably opened your legs to lots of others doesn't mean the same for me! Unlike you, I have some sort of class!"

"Excuse me!?" Bulma can't wrap her brain around his audacity, watching keenly as his frown mimics hers. "I'll have you know that other than Yamcha-"

"-Tch."

"-I've only slept with you! Maybe the feeling is foreign to you, but I only share my body with men I actually like! Although at the moment, I'm wondering how you even made the list!"

"Men you like?" He repeats it as if it's acidity on his tongue, and Bulma realizes the error of her words. Men she likes? Does she like Vegeta? Sure she liked the way he made her body feel, and she liked how she molded perfectly around him, as if their bodies were made to join in that way. But other than the sex, can she say she likes him? He is broody and temperamental, and sometimes she wishes she could replace the devil mask that can steal his face. But then there's other times, small tidbits that only she gets to see of another Vegeta entirely. Like when he's made her plate for breakfast (although he claims it's just so he can have as much as he wants without hearing her mouth) or when he cuts his shower early so she can have some hot water (something he also denies). And if she closes her eyes entirely, she can still picture the way he looked at her and demanded she look at him as their bodies synched in unison until they both rode the waves of their orgasms.

With a sharp intake of breath, Bulma realizes that maybe, okay, she does like him.

"Woman," he continues, "Don't ever lump me in with that inferior weakling. And furthermore, I never asked you to like me. You'd have to be a complete fool to like someone who blew up planets for the fuck of it! Do you know what I've seen? Do you know what I've done!? Do you know who I worked for? 'Liking' me is probably the dumbest thing you could ever do, and that's saying a lot!"

"Yeah but," Bulma's stomach churns as she listens to him spew out these facts about himself. Yes, there's no denying who or what Vegeta is, but she has to take a second to put herself in his shoes. She thinks, with consideration, that if she was plucked from her stem and poisoned before she had a chance to bloom, would her decisions and outlook on life reflect his own? "Wasn't it Frieza who made you into that type of guy? I mean, Goku is from the same planet as you, and even he could change under the right influences." And a hit on the head, but that's for other matters entirely. "Maybe you just haven't had a chance to show you can really be, outside of your insane strength and smug demeanor."

The expression on Vegeta's face softens to melted butter, and even his arms unfold as he soaks up her words, making the lining of Bulma's stomach become replaced with feathers. There's something serene about seeing his face like this, even if it's quickly erased by his hardened stare. "I am a warrior. There is no changing that. No amount of influence from this mundane planet or its inhabitants," he squints his eyes at her, "Will make me something that I'm not."

"Then why," Bulma forms the question immediately, studying the way the crimson lights soak up his face, "Are you even here? Why did you come back? You could've gotten your fuel and left by now, and I would be none the wiser."

The question appears to throw him off guard, and he clicks his teeth and looks away from her as if he's been doused in shame. The silence stretches between them, with only the hum of the generator keeping the room from drowning in quiet. Bulma's patiently waiting to hear his reply, if not to ease her own curiosity. Why are you here, Vegeta? What's your game here?

Finally Vegeta seems to have had enough of the muting of words and takes a deep breath, still not bothering to look at her. "As it turns out, I need some more training before I can ascend. My current power level isn't nearly enough."

Bullshit. Bulma knows that the space ship Vegeta stole has the same functionality as the gravity chamber; although it only goes up to 300gs instead of the 500gs Vegeta has become accustomed to. But even with the differences, someone like Vegeta could easily use that to his advantage for training purposes. If he wanted to, that is. The only reason why Vegeta would come back to Earth other than to refuel is because he has some ulterior motive. And perhaps, she hopes with a glimmer of hope in the spaces between her teeth, that ulterior motive has blue hair and a great personality.

She smiles at him softly and hums, turning her back to him. "Whatever you say, tough guy," she crouches down so that she's on her knees again and reaches for a bot, "Well, I suppose if that's the reason then you wouldn't mind staying around while I work on the rest of these? It will make the time go by faster."

"That is the reason, and you can more than manage the work yourself."

"Sure," she casts him a wicked glare over her shoulder, her short hair swimming over her cheeks, "Whatever you say, Vegeta."

There is nothing else spoken between them and Bulma appreciates the silence. After all, their conversation is playing in a loop inside of her head like a spinning record, and she tries to marinate over her newly found discovery. So she likes Vegeta. Whatever. She likes lots of people. Like Goku or Krillin, and Tien and Chiaotzu, and even Master Roshi in all of his lechery. She's sure that somewhere in the confines of her heart, there's even a place for her to like Yamcha as well. And most of these guys formed their early days in her mind like a blemish, and they'd become some of the best people she'd ever known. But none of them, none of them, makes her feel incredibly flushed like Vegeta has.

He clears his throat from behind her, and initially she thinks it's because of the draft in the room, but then he does it again. She turns up to glance at him and finds him burning a stare through her forehead. She shudders and turns back to work, not wanting to tip toe in another verbal match with him. Not yet, not so soon after she's trying to glue together her wandering thoughts. But then, like always, Vegeta surprises her.

"Bulma," he says, her name sounding so clear and concise on his tongue, like he's in a rush to get it out. She turns around startled, still not used to hearing him talk to her so formally yet. His eyes dart to his feet like a sheepish boy about to ask for an extra piece of candy. He clicks his teeth and runs a hand through his hair. "Damnit!" He mutters under his breath, finally rolling his eyes back to her. "I don't know how to do this."

"How to do what?" She says slowly, unsure (but hopeful) as to what he means.

"At how to…" He clenches his jaw as if he needs to taste his reply before spitting it out, and Bulma waves her hand to get him to continue before he loses his nerve. "At how to…express…my desire."

Bulma's chest tightens and she drops a wrench to her feet, abandoning the bot that she is almost finished with. "Your desire?" She repeats in an almost whisper. "And what would that be?"

He's staring at her as if that answer can be found in the curve of her lips, and before Bulma can repeat the question, he's descended on her, pushing her back against the floor. His eyes are dark and penetrating, making her feel as if she's swallowed up by a league of shadows. Her body reacts naturally as it heats up, anticipation swirling around in her belly at being pinned down by someone so powerful. So dark. So sexy.

"Bulma," he repeats again, but he says her name as if it's a death sentence, "I don't know what you want from me."

Bulma shrugs, letting a slip of a breathy laugh escape her lips. "Well that's good, because neither do I."

"This could be bad for the both of us."

"Isn't everything always bad at some point or the other? What makes this any different?"

His eyes slide down her body, and he doesn't look back at her as he says, "I could break you. In more ways than one."

"I know."

He drags his stare back to her face and his eyebrows raise in question, completely thrown off guard by her admission. Bulma looks back at him as if the secrets to the universe lie in the furrows of his brows, in the hollows of his eyes. His face is always tense, always quizzical, always pondering the weight of everything. It drives her absolutely mad. On instinct, she reaches up to touch him, as if her fingers are made up of magic and can erase every doubt that is found on his flesh.

She's surprised when he doesn't knock her hand away.

"You smell different." He crinkles his nose up and Bulma is embarrassed, knowing that she's generated enough sweat to fill a tank. With shame, she draws her hand away, looking to the wall.

"I should probably shower," she says in a low tone, "I've been working for a long time, and contrary to how it feels now, it was burning up in here earlier."

"Not that," he growls, tipping her face back to him. Bulma's moved by the gesture, but more importantly, she's wondering what the hell he means. "I know the smell of sweat, especially on you. There's something else that wasn't there before," he dips his head into her neck, taking a long whiff. It's been about a month since Bulma has had him this close to her skin, and goosepimples break out across her chest. Vegeta presses his nose closer, as if he can search for the smell itself in the blue of her blood.

"What are you talking about, Vegeta?" She asks, but he's still on his mission, sniffing through the crease in between her breasts, and the insecurities of underboob sweat consume her. She wants to tell him to stop it, but his fingers have removed her overalls and they drop to the floor beneath her, the straps spreading around her like wings. Bulma blushes as she feels his nose tickle her belly button, and lets out a startled yelp when he brushes her panties to the side. She perches her neck up and looks down at him, seeing the flicker of his hair swim across her abdomen. She stifles a sigh as his nose buries into the folds of her privates, and she's convinced that Vegeta doesn't understand the sexual undertone of his actions.

"It's coming from this area," he uses a finger to tap her belly and traces down to her vagina, looking at her accusingly. "What did you do to yourself?"

Bulma scowls and glares at him, her top lip curling over her teeth. "I haven't done anything to myself, asshole! You're making it seem like I stink down there!"

"I never said it was a putrid smell, woman! It's not, and it's not even coming from here," he taps at her privates again, his fingers unknowingly brushing over her clitoris, making a moan slither through her throat. "It's deeper than that, a smell that I've never encountered on anyone." He taps his chin and looks at her body curiously, making Bulma anxious. "I can't figure it out."

"You needed to do all of that just to satisfy your curiosity!?" Her body is screaming for him to please her, and she's shifting her hips to give him some sort of ideas, but it appears that his current dilemma is clouding his other senses. Bulma could just about drip with the arousal that's pooling between her legs, and she's debating about crushing his head between her thighs until he gets the fucking point.

"Do what?"

"That!" She indicates to his finger placed idly on her folds and Vegeta looks down before staring back at her with a wicked grin. Uh oh.

"This excites you? My head being so close to you down here?" She wants to nod her head, but he's several steps ahead of her, removing his gloves with his teeth and parting her lips. "So it's true then; Earthlings do have multiple ways of pleasure." He breaths hot air against her clitoris and Bulma shivers, biting down on her lip.

He stares at her darkly, running a finger up and down her slowly, his dark eyes eating her up. "You never cease to amaze me with your vulgarity. You're a scientist, so I suppose hypothesis are hidden gems to you. Let's conduct an experiment of our own, shall we? What happens to you if I…." He trails off, and Bulma wants him to continue his sentence, but his molten eyes stick to hers as he lowers his head until she can no longer see the features of his face.

Bulma throws her head back with a cry as she feels his tongue lap her up like a kitten to milk. She can tell he's experimenting as his tongue explores her wetness, and Bulma has to grab onto his hair to keep her sanity afloat. She's always wondered what this would feel like, having a hot mouth in between her legs, licking her up like she was their personal desert. Yamcha could never muster the courage to get so close, and only managed to look at her before shying away and fucking her the old fashioned way. It was good, she could admit, but not earth shattering blissful like the pleasure Vegeta was giving to her right now.

"Fuck, Ve-Vegeta," she quivers, whispering her gratitude as he feasts on her, his hot tongue making her thrust her hips in his face. He uses his hands to hold her thighs down, and then further apart as he buries his face in her more, making Bulma scream out. She can't tell where his salivating mouth begins and her own arousal ends, and soon she just feels like there's an ocean resting in the middle of her legs, and god, it feels so fucking good. She can barely breathe right as he sucks and licks and discovers her body in more ways than she believed someone could. She's not sure if he's doing this for her or for his own 'hypothesis', but with every crescendo of her moans and sharp intake of her breaths, he seems to be more relentless on making her feel every wet stroke of his tongue.

"Right there! Right there!" She breaths out and rests her arm over her eyes, blocking out the red inferno lights until all she can see are stars. Vegeta obliges, continuing his gift to her by using his lips to gather her swollen clitoris in his mouth and sucking gently until Bulma cries out loudly. She gasps as she feels something thick enter her, and just as she's gotten adjusted to the curve of his fingers, he adds another, and Bulma wonders how it's possible that her body can feel so much pleasure.

"Hmph," Vegeta brings his head up slightly and Bulma opens her eyes to look at him, his chin shiny with her arousal, "Such a loud voice coming from such a small body. I hate it."

"F-fuck y-you," she stammers as his fingers slide in and out, the noises that accompany his actions letting her know that she's close, "If you don't…ohmygod…like it then you can st-stop."

"Oh?" His eyebrow raises challengingly and he listens to her, his fingers sliding out of her and leaving Bulma empty and cold. She immediately throws her body upright, her fists clenched at her sides. "You fucking jerk! Why did you stop!?"

"Didn't you say so? Maybe you should be more careful with the way you use your tongue."

"And maybe you should too!" She says, although the bite of her words have much more pleading than she would like, and her hips are moving suggestively against her will. Vegeta laughs darkly.

"Do you want me to continue? Or are you going to continue to insult my ears?"

"Pl-please!" She whispers, placing her dignity under her need to feel his mouth again.

"Please what?" He stretches his fingers back to her, already obliging to her request before she can ask it.

"Please…make…make me cum, Vegeta!" She places her head back down as heat crawls to her cheeks, unused to being the one who has to do the begging. Being vulnerable with him is a new thing, but if it'll give them what they want, then…

Vegeta wastes no time in continuing where he left off, working at a much faster rate than before. His fingers are moving masterfully inside of her, so much so that if Bulma closed her eyes she would assume it was him fucking her, filling her up. His tongue moves at a speed that Bulma can only achieve on her vibrator, and she makes a mental note to throw the damned thing away, wondering if she'll even need it anymore. A tightness brews in her belly, scorching hot with need, and Bulma feels it constrict and form until it's all she can think of, all she can feel. Her mind goes blank until she's nothing more than his rag doll, and she lets her oncoming orgasm build and build until her stomach feels like it's going to disband from her body.

She needs to touch him. She needs to thank him for this. Her fingers clench in his hair as her body snaps like a rubber band, letting him have his way with her as he licks and fucks and makes her cry with tears forming in the corners of her eyes. "Oh…oh my god, Vegeta!" She bites her bottom lip and feels herself about to be slammed by the finale, wishing that he could stretch out this feeling for the rest of her days. "God I missed you. Don't leave me again!" The admission spills from her lips and Vegeta grunts in the meat of her lips below, but Bulma doesn't care, doesn't think about it, as she melts under the intense rolls of pleasure than ransack through her body. It feels as if millions of dutiful fingers are massaging her muscles meticulously, and she folds under the orgasm until she's nothing more than a wilted rose petal. She cries out his name once more, her gratitude sleeping in the spaces between the letters, and she feels her body collapse after several long, splitting seconds of having the most pleasure Bulma has ever had. Her arm falls lifeless to the side as she lets his hair go, and she's convinced her bones have turned to jelly.

She doesn't even notice when Vegeta is leaning over her again, and it's only when she opens her eyes that she sees him staring at her intently, the same question stained on his face. She's too relaxed to pry into that prison of a mind of his, but she returns his quizzical expression with one of her own. "What is it?"

He clenches his teeth and wipes his chin with the back of his hand. "You still smell different," he says bluntly, "And you're wetter than the last time. It's strange."

"It isn't!" She fights back, although she rests an arm on the back of his neck, "If I'm 'wetter' than you can blame yourself!"

"That's not what I mean," he bites his teeth, and Bulma wonders how the hell can he be thinking about that when he just made her cum as hard as he did, "You smell like there's two people on you." His lips curve downward and an expression that Bulma can only describe as territorial steals his features. "Have you been with someone else?"

"No! Jealous much?" She wants to push him off of her, but he is too heavy and too strong to ever push away. Just like the feelings that she's coming to terms with for him. "You're the first and only person I've been with since my breakup!"

"Tch," he tries to run away from her words but it's clear that he's stricken by them, "Well there's no denying you smell like a mixture of you and someone else. I don't like it."

"Well I don't know what the hell you're talking about, but you can drop it. I haven't slept with anyone other than you, and I'd rather be doing that right now instead of arguing about it!"

"Whatever," Vegeta growls, but he reaches down and pulls his spandex over his head, his face mere inches from her. "Swear it, Bulma. Swear that if you're going to continue to seduce me, that I'm the only one."

"Scouts honor," she replies, wanting to feel him inside of her already, "And I'm not the only one doing the seducing here. Regardless of what you think, my initial plan was just to get your DNA."

"I think you were trying to get my other DNA," he teases, and Bulma locks the memory away as the first time she's seen Vegeta smile for something other than his arrogance. "Speaking of which, do you still have that medicine you were going on about?"

"It's ready for you whenever you are," She shimmies off the underwear and overalls that are bunched around her feet as Vegeta finishes undressing them both, "Although I assume it'll be awhile before we can get to that."

Vegeta presses his face down to her lips and grunts a laugh, his breath tickling her skin. "Vulgar woman."

"Vulgar prince."

And as Bulma turns her head as Vegeta ravishes her neck, she spots the lifeless bots on the floor, knowing that there's no way she'll have time to finish them by the end of the day.

oooOOOooo

OKAY THAT'S IT IM DONE THERE'S NOTHING LEFT HERE TO SAY OR DO!

HAHA IN ALL SERIOUSNESS, YOU GUYS ARE THE BEST. I'm super thankful for your reviews, and your urging to make one last chapter. I hope this is satisfactory.

Also, in case I wasn't subtle enough, Bulma's pregnant. Yep….the early stages of pregnancy have befallen our dear Ms. Briefs after her first encounter with an alien prince. The lucky bastard.

Thank you guys for reading!