• 1-Take My Hand
• 2-Chapter 2

Disclaimer – I do not own Dragon Ball Z or any of the characters, nor do I own ‘Dido – Take My Hand’.

At times she would stroll past pretending to be oblivious so she would know what was going on, the alien Prince never talked to her, not really; in fact he hardly paid her any attention. But when she was near enough at times when his curiosity got the best of him she would catch a question thrown at her father.

She wondered if it was his distrustful nature that made him watch them all so closely, even at mealtimes he would wait for one of them to take the first bite. She didn’t expect him to trust them immediately, but he had been living here for a few months if she counted before the Nameks left, couldn’t he see that they had no ill intentions?

He was polite, more so then she’d expected, he never said ‘please’ or ‘thank you’, in fact he didn’t speak much at all; but he kept to himself not causing any problems, she once saw him hold the door open for her mother.

Bulma smiled as she remembered her mothers giggle, made her sound like a school girl she thought. It was rather obvious Vegeta didn’t mean to hold the door, just a case of bad timing, she was sure that was the first time he had been called a ‘charming Prince’.

A light rosy hue had splashed his cheeks, had left her wondering how he could be so… cute? Yet so cold and indifferent.

Her mother adored him and her father, if she didn’t know any better she would say he treated Vegeta like the son he never had. She felt a little left out.

She just wanted his attention, wanted to be noticed. All her life she was one to be noticed, be it for her beauty or her intellect; she was always the centre of attention. But with Vegeta she was brushed aside, ignored; in a way it almost made her jealous of the others, Goku, Gohan, Krillin, her parents, even Piccolo. They were all given some acknowledgement, bad or good? from the Saiyan Prince.

She watched as he slowly turned and looked up towards her, there was no change in his usual stoic expression making her suspect that he knew all along she was watching him. With a nervous smile she waved at him, just as she did every morning; and he turned away.

She shrugged her shoulders and proceeded to get prepared for the day.

She rubbed the excess water from her curly blue locks with her towel; her hair had grown a great deal since the perm. She sighed, the style was beginning to bore her; she missed running her fingers through the thin smooth strands.

Feeling her hair was dry enough she dropped the small towel to the floor, she then moved toward her wardrobe to look for the most ‘comfortable’ sweatshirt she owned. She had already donned a pair of worn looking, but comfy sweatpants and a cotton wireless bra. The grey oversized sweatshirt was found, and immediately pulled on.

Completing her task of dressing, she shifted to her knees and peered under her bed. She manoeuvred herself a little lower reaching with her whole body now, and with a satisfied huff she pulled herself from under the bed holding a pair of pink and white bunny slippers.

She slipped them on and let out a small giggle, it had been a while since she’d last worn these, and it made her feel like a little girl again. It was hard to believe there was a time before all the seriousness, a time when they had all been happy and carefree.

She sometimes wished Goku was still the strange ‘human’ boy with a tail.

Knowing where this trail of thoughts was leading, she quickly shut them out her mind, today was about her, and relaxation. With a determined look on her face she exited her room, only to dash back in to collect her personal CD player. It was an old thing, outdated by today’s standards, but she felt a sense of sentiment for it, and it worked; that’s all that mattered. Beside's she had done some tinkering with it, made some modifications.

She picked out a suitable CD from one of her vast collections remembering that her father had given it to her.

When she was younger, her and her father would sometimes sit in his den listening to his classical music collection, she had shown a distinct liking for Mozart’s ‘Requiem’, even at such a young age understanding its beauty; her father had given it to her thus was the begins of her collection.

She was saddened a little, the bond with her father had dissipated over the years; she felt distant now and a little lonely. She exited the room once again, her mood downtrodden; but she realised she hadn’t really been in ‘that’ good a mood to begin with.

Happy to see there was still some coffee left over, Bulma switched on the machine to re-heat. She decided to try her luck with Vegeta.

“Ohayo Vegeta.” He deliberately ignored her, turning the tap on to refill his glass. She wondered if he knew there was cold water in the fridge, but she chose not to comment; instead she tried her luck again with small talk.

“So how come your not with my dad this morning?”

He turned this time, eyeing her suspiciously before he answered; “Hn you really don’t know.” He sounded genuinely surprised, “Stupid human.” He turned back to the sink and his water, completely shutting her out.

She sighed forcefully and stomped (the best she could with bunny slippers) to the coffee machine, deciding the coffee was hot enough she grabbed a cup and poured the black liquid in sloppily, somehow managing not to spill any.

After getting no reaction from Vegeta she stormed out the kitchen, she swore she heard him chuckle. She pushed ahoughoughts of Vegeta out of her mind; she would lie down on the sofa and chill out listening to Mozart. Laughing softly she realised her mishap, ‘chill out?’ she was beginning to sound like Krillin.

Sipping the coffee she wrinkled her nose in distaste, in her haste to leave the kitchen she had forgotten both milk and sugar. But she was not about to give in and turn back.
She opened the living room door, absently wondering why it was closed in the first place.

“SURPRISE!”

Her cup of coffee fell to the floor as she was met with the faces of her friends and family, she let out a frightened yelp, seeing a mental image of herself in her mind; she looked a mess!

She sprinted from the room as fast as her slipper clad feet could carry her, tears of humiliation running down her cheeks. Bounding up the stairs she pushed passed a startled Vegeta, almost falling in the process; finally reaching her room she slammed the door shut behind her, immediately locking it.

She could remember telling her parents, she wanted no celebration for her 27th.