Disclaimer: I don't own Dragonball Z. This is gifted to Spike's Savior. Read and Enjoy!

"Snookie?" The snort of disbelief mingled with disgust was the only thing she needed to hear. "I'll just scratch that one then…Oh! I got it. Honeybunch."


"Honey tart?"


"Sweet cheeks?" Bulma asked, biting her lip to keep from grinning. Behind her Vegeta was doing hanging sit ups.

"Hell no, and why are you bothering me with this nonsense?"

Bulma pursed her lips, "I'm not bothering you. You work out everyday, so you can stand to take a few minutes for me."

Of course the heiress hadn't exactly given him a choice. The pregnant Bulma had barged her way into the gravity room and wouldn't budge so Vegeta couldn't turn the gravity on. She had been sitting on the floor with a pad and pencil scratching out pet – it had been an hour since she'd started.


"Forget it," he grunted as he pulled himself up once more, only to drop back down.

"Why are you doing this?"

"Because we need pet names!" she whined, throwing the pad and pencil down to start rubbing her lower back, and groaned in pleasure. "Every couple needs them."

Vegeta barked out a laugh. "Name one."

"Chichi and Goku, my mother and father," she started off on her fingers. "Oh! And Gohan and Videl, and they aren't even married."

"I rest my case," he retorted with a roll of his eyes.

"Chichi calls Goku snuggle bear, my dad calls mom his boo bunny," Bulma continued ignoring Vegeta's interruption. "Gohan calls Videl his fighting rose. Isn't that so sweet?" Bulma was starting to get teary eyed.

"No it's not. It's disgusting."

"Vegeta!" she huffed, annoyed but no longer teary eyed. The saiyan prince gave a long suffered sigh of annoyance as he stopped his pull ups and hung upside down. "If you wish to call me anything other then my given name, you may call me; my Prince, Prince Vegeta or even your highness."

He sounded so serious that Bulma laughed. "Not on your life. I'm not padding your ego; you're liable to explode as it is."

"Woman," he warned, trying to interrupt.

"That would be like me calling you Mr. Bodacious, which I object to." She scratched out another name on the list. "I guess I'll have to keep looking."

Vegeta gave another suffered sigh and pulled himself up slightly to unhook himself from the bar he was using and dropped to the floor.

"Meines einziges Ein, it's time for lunch," he announced after looking over Bulma, taking in the effects her condition was having on her. "You need to eat more."

"What did you call me?" she asked, pencil and pad slightly lowered her gaze penetrating, as well as calculating. "I don't know that language."

"It's my language and I called you a hideous weakling. Now let's go." He stomped out of the gravity room. Bulma watched him with raised eyebrows. Boy he's being touchy…he's up to something; she though as she waddled after him, determined to figure out what he'd call her.

Later that night Bulma lounged against the head bored of their king sized bed, letting her laptop balance on her swollen belly…and she was crying.

Vegeta raised an eyebrow and grimaced.

"It's just hormones," she tried to explain. He didn't say anything. "Actually it's not hormones, well it could be the hormornes too but I figured out what you called me. And it's beautiful and…and it's the perfect pet name."

"I'm going back to the gravity room," he grumbled, as he turned to leave the room. "Do try to get yourself under control."

Bulma smiled, and wiped at her eyes. The door slammed, but she didn't take heart to his curt demeanor, because he'd called her 'my only one' in his own language.

Author's Note: Okay so Meines einziges Ein means 'my only one', I hope that's clear in my story. I don't take German nor do I speak German so I used a translator that I found on google. Thanks.