Ok, here’s the last piece of Part Two. If anyone out there is still enjoying this, please, let me know.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own or make a profit of the DBZ franchise. I do believe that the honor of creating such a show, manga, etc. is of Akira Toriyama. DBZ is a trademark of TOEI Animation (says on the label of DBZ videos) and licensed by FUNimation. So from all that legal stuff, you can conclude that I DO NOT own this stuff....I just get a kick of out using their characters for entertainment purposes. So please, do not sue.

Part Two- Concluded
 

    I knew I needed him, I just didn’t expect him to actually appear. But to my surprise -and happiness- he was there. He was there for me.
    He took away my fear. His strong presence, as assuring as a person like him can be, it was what I needed. I will never forget that moment -before, during, after. I will never forget Trunks’s birth.
    But now... I’m scared. The anxiety is tearing away at my gut... And I’m not sure why.

_______
    "Bulma." Vision filled by a hazy darkness, my body is being shaken. "Bulma." He whispers again, stronger now.
    I jump, my eyes scan the room quickly -my heartbeat thunders in my head.  I don’t.... understand.
    He sits up and faintly touches my arm. I turn, his eyes are clouded in confusion and I can see he is not used to this. He was the one who had nightmares.
    "Are you...alright?" he questions me quietly, conflicted in how to react. I burst into tears, only to notice that my cheeks have been wet for a while now. How is it that I’ve cried so much, why is it that I’m so terrified that I can’t stand to be alone? As much as I want to, need to, at the moment, I’m not strong enough to console myself and I’m not nearly as calm as I wish to be. I throw myself at Vegeta, pulling him close and sobbing into his chest. My stomach gets in the way. I cry even louder.
    He stiffens, but in a moment, relaxes, and his arms rest at my sides.
    "You dreamt about her birth." he murmurs and shifts slightly, adjusting his position.
I choke, my body trembles incessantly.
    "So beautiful....she was s-so gorgeous. She was in your arms, she was so quiet, she..." I drift off, I can’t seem to find the right words. "I wasn’t there." I stop and pull back, while he quickly lets go. "I wasn’t there." The images are too clear, my confusion, his pain, I’m bombarded with tears again, my vision completely blurred. "It hurt so much...I couldn’t hold her, I couldn’t be with you." I look up, I can’t read his expression -his eyes, for once, tell me nothing. "Vegeta-"
    "Sleep." he cuts in, wrapping his arm around me and pulling me down.
    "I can’t!" I push him off as he looks at me in irritated anger. "I-I can’t. What could it mean?"
    "It means nothing." he growls, and tries again, this time keeping a firm grip until my body is pressed into the mattress. "Sleep. In a month, it will be over and you will not bother me with petty worries."
    I close my eyes and sigh. His words offer hollow solace.
______

    I’m ready. I am prepared for anything that comes my way. The nursery is set, so is the medical center -I have the crib and the clothes and thhe safety equipment. Trunks is as anxious as I am, and Vegeta looks as disinterested as usual.
    But I know different.
    He’s quite nervous, even if he won’t show it. This is another person to our family, and I think the fact that it’s a girl gets him more nervous than he should be. Maybe he thinks that he’ll have to be caring -though I doubt he’ll display any affection- or maybe he’s disappointed because he won’t have another boy to train. In any case, I can’t wait.
    I want her to be born already. I want to hold her in my arms and watch her sleep. I want to name her, see what she looks like -is she more like me, or Vegeta? I wish I could dress her up in little pink frilly dresses and take her out for a stroll in the park. I want to hear her first words (I know it’ll be my name) and watch her first steps -I want her to exist in this world. I don’t want to be pregnant anymore...I want it to be over with.
    But I have to be patient. No one knows when Saiyan babies are supposed to be born -the ones here on Earth have been born at different times. So I’m not sure whether I’m early or late; if I measure by Trunks’s birth, I’m late, by Gohan’s, I’m early. Vegeta can’t say squat.
    My feet are now twice their size -like everything else on my body- and are swollen up like huge mangos. My back hurts, I waddle too much, and I feel like I am proof that whales can live on land. I whine, complain, scream at the drop of a pin, and last night, I cried for hours because my favorite team won the championships. I am the happiest miserable person on Earth.
    "Yes you are." I don’t bother to look up, I know it’s him. He stalks in with usual stance, our son close behind.
    "Mom, are you brooding?"
    "No." I currently sit on the couch, but in a moment I will begin struggling to get up. I lean back and lunge myself forward, using the momentum to kinda have my body roll forth, until my feet land on the floor. I grab the cushion and push up, glaring as my son steps forward to help.     "Don’t. I can do it on my own."
    He avoids my gaze, murmuring something to his father. Vegeta nods once and he looks at me. His lips tilt slightly.
    "Stop feeling sorry for yourself." I grunt.
    "I’m not." He cocks his head to the side.
    "Then why are you being so bitchy?" I hear Trunks inhale sharply, taking a surprised glance at his father. Vegeta only smirks, his eyes stare me down and my son hastily retreats out of the room.
    I answer his telepathic inquiry bluntly and aloud, seeing as our son has escaped. "Sex."
His eyebrow raises in question.
    "The more sex we have, the faster this baby is born." His eyes widen a bit, his smirk grows proudly.
    "Alright." I can see he is very pleased with my proposition. He steps forward and grabs me, preparing to carry me to our room.
    "TRUNKS!" I call out, waiting for an answer.
    "WHAT!?"
    "I think you need to pay Goten a visit!" A blur passes, and in less than a second, he’s out the door.
__________

    Ow.
    I shoot up, clutching my stomach and rolling to the side.
    "Ow, oh, ohhh-holy mother of-!" I look up, gripping the sheets in a vain attempt to channel my pain.  ‘Where is he!!’
    "Vegeta?" I try to yell and instead groan his name as I notice that in place of his body is an empty mattress. "Where the fuck are you!?" Ohhh! Another contraction hits, my nails dig into the pillow, forcing the fabric apart. In a moment the pain is gone and feathers float around me.
"VEGETA!" This call is mental and unrelenting, I want to see him -NOW!
    Another wave strikes and I hear a loud bang in my head. Turns out, it wasn’t me, but him, who had just slammed the door on his way in. Can’t notice much now, it’s hurting like hell and I need something to hold. "OOHHH!!!!!"
    "What’s wrong with you!?" He stares in horror as I roll again, shredding even more sheets along the way. I wait for it to end and look up, panting.
    "Ba-baby." I push myself up, using him as support and reaching for the phone. I hit a button and the phone automatically dials. "Doctor? It’s time." I hang up quickly and meet Vegeta’s distressed expression. "Medical room."
    He nods, lifting me into his arms.
    "Don’t ever do that again." He looks down.
    "Do what?"
    "Scare me. I thought you weren’t here." He knows what I refer to and says nothing more as we leave the room.
______

    "Here, put me down here." He places me on the medical bed. We are in Med. Room One -a room specifically designed for this baby’s birth.
    He looks around in interest. He has never been in this room before, but I know he’s more confused than anything. By the fifth contraction, the doctor has arrived and Vegeta seems more comfortable with what’s going on, although his hesitant behavior still remains.
    "Ow ow ow oowwhhhh!" Another one, the most painful so far.
    I start swearing under my breath and I glimpse at my husband. He is pensive, but after a moment he approaches and leans down to my swelled belly. "Breathe." He says and stands back up, looking to me expectantly.
    "What?" He walks over, almost towering over my body. "You must breathe deeply, exhale with your...contractions. It will lessen the pain."
    "I know that!" I snap, lashing out and snatching his arm. Yet another hits, my nails digging into his flesh, the blood trickling down my fingers. I look down at my tainted palm, stained by what I did to him. There is a moment of uncomfortable silence before I apologize. "I’m sorry." He looks down as well, but doesn’t seem to care.
    "It’s fine." The doctor’s voice breaks in.
    "Bulma?" We both turn to her, seated at the edge of the bed.
    "She’s ready."
    I nod. I can do this.

______

    She is beautiful. My angelic baby girl, my Bra. After ten hours of pain and frustration and of almost breaking off Vegeta’s arm, she’s here. She’s finally here. Her bundled up form rests in my arms. She sleeps on, cuddled into my breast, as her breathing falls lightly on my chest -more proof that she is alive and mine. Or more like it, ours.
    And he stayed. As much as I did to drive him away, he remained by the bed, watching, making sure I didn’t give up. He did yet again what took so much of his courage long ago and stayed by my side, made sure I wasn’t afraid, although he knew I was -as much as I tried to hide it. And when I wanted his hand, he gave it to me. When I felt so tired and weak and simply wanted to give up, he murmured words of motivation. Just like all those years ago, when I thought I was truly alone, he made his presence known. I’ve never felt happier or more at peace.
    So she lays in my arms and I look to the open window. As sleep begins to subdue my body, and Vegeta goes in search of something for us to eat, I find the open space in the night sky where the full moon is supposed to be.