He worked himself up, trying to be dramatic and sane, level-headed and reasonable. “Bulma! No, Kami, everyone’s right…they know don’t they?”
“Goku told them all about it.”
The orange-clad man managed to pull the pan away. He was a contrite dog shuffling with that tail tucked away. “I’m sorry, Bulma.” Yamcha and Goku shared a bro nod.
“I’m sorry I didn’t knock whatever brains you have out,” Bulma retorted, but without fire.
“Do…do you want us to stick around?” Eighteen asked. She looked like she’d gladly run out the building, but here she was.
Chi-Chi huffed. But not at Eighteen or at Bulma. “Vegeta will learn to live with this kid, no matter who the father is.”
“I wonder if it’ll be a boy or a girl? Oh, I hope you get a girl,” Mom twilled.
“Yeah.” Krillin was smiling that good ol’ reassuring smile, full of his everlasting humor with the raised eyebrows. “I mean, I’m sure he’s used to this by now.”
“Shut up, loser,” Bulma said, but didn’t really mean it.
Yamcha began to dry-heave. “I can’t believe we’re doing this again.”
Bulma could still sass. “That’s not what you said last time.”
Everyone shared a grossed-out laugh that turned to winces. But gradually. Krillin took another muffin and Chi-Chi refilled her cup and began discussing names that could be used. When should they throw the baby shower. Was Bulma feeling well? She should sit down and eat something. And Bulma could sit there at the front of the table, being offered and served cupcakes and fresh, decaffeinated coffee and babysitting offers. All this for their Queen.
Her family was pretty great. Take that, universe.
Together, okay, all together, they would tell her husband that he was going to be a father again. Maybe they could all shout it and then run away. Say it all together now, like they would for birthdays and karaoke.
They would crowd around the Saiyan Prince as he sat fresh from training and tried to drink water and not act disturbed by everyone standing around him, staring, taking in his every action. The man looked so innocent there at the table where they had shared a surprising amount of meals day after day. “Have you come for a rematch, Kakarrotte?” he tried.
“No.” Goku stared, unabashed.
“So, Vegeta…how do you feel about getting whole nights rests?” Krillin asked. “I hope you liked those. I hope you savored them.”
Remember Part 4
“Goku told them all about it.”
The orange-clad man managed to pull the pan away. He was a contrite dog shuffling with that tail tucked away. “I’m sorry, Bulma.” Yamcha and Goku shared a bro nod.
“I’m sorry I didn’t knock whatever brains you have out,” Bulma retorted, but without fire.
“Do…do you want us to stick around?” Eighteen asked. She looked like she’d gladly run out the building, but here she was.
Chi-Chi huffed. But not at Eighteen or at Bulma. “Vegeta will learn to live with this kid, no matter who the father is.”
“I wonder if it’ll be a boy or a girl? Oh, I hope you get a girl,” Mom twilled.
“Yeah.” Krillin was smiling that good ol’ reassuring smile, full of his everlasting humor with the raised eyebrows. “I mean, I’m sure he’s used to this by now.”
“Shut up, loser,” Bulma said, but didn’t really mean it.
Yamcha began to dry-heave. “I can’t believe we’re doing this again.”
Bulma could still sass. “That’s not what you said last time.”
Everyone shared a grossed-out laugh that turned to winces. But gradually. Krillin took another muffin and Chi-Chi refilled her cup and began discussing names that could be used. When should they throw the baby shower. Was Bulma feeling well? She should sit down and eat something. And Bulma could sit there at the front of the table, being offered and served cupcakes and fresh, decaffeinated coffee and babysitting offers. All this for their Queen.
Her family was pretty great. Take that, universe.
Together, okay, all together, they would tell her husband that he was going to be a father again. Maybe they could all shout it and then run away. Say it all together now, like they would for birthdays and karaoke.
They would crowd around the Saiyan Prince as he sat fresh from training and tried to drink water and not act disturbed by everyone standing around him, staring, taking in his every action. The man looked so innocent there at the table where they had shared a surprising amount of meals day after day. “Have you come for a rematch, Kakarrotte?” he tried.
“No.” Goku stared, unabashed.
“So, Vegeta…how do you feel about getting whole nights rests?” Krillin asked. “I hope you liked those. I hope you savored them.”