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Friends	By : ladyvegeets Category: Dragon Ball Z > AU - Alternate Universe Views: 2134 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Disclaimer: Obviously I don’t own DBZ or the characters - they belong to Akira Toriyama, Funimation and Toei Animation as far as I know. No profit is being made from this fic.

Chapter List
- 6
- 7
- 8
Friends - an AU Vegebul Highschool Fanfic by LadyVegeets
Ch.07 - Friends

After she’d changed out of her sports uniform from the sports shed incident, Bulma spent lunch with her friends. She barely touched her food, icing her hand with an ice pack she’d obtained from the school nurse. She continued to drift through classes for the rest of the day, feeling lost and hollow. She walked home without paying her surroundings any attention and spent the evening in front of the TV, binge eating and watching romantic Korean dramadies, crying way too much over the sappy stories.
She went to bed and stared at her phone for what must have been an hour, but she didn’t get any messages.
The next day at school, Vegeta had new bruises. Bulma made eye contact with him as she entered class. Vegeta looked away first, saying nothing. Bulma swallowed down her own feelings and sat at her desk, offering him nothing back.
At lunch in the cafeteria she was once again quiet and detached. She saw her friends were flashing her worried looks, but she couldn’t bring herself to fake a cheeriness she didn’t feel for their sakes.
“Are you coming to practice, Bulma?” Goku asked her.
Bulma shook her head. “I’ve got a lot of homework.”
Her friends all exchanged glances, but no one called her out on her lie despite knowing that Bulma rarely had homework as she could finish her work before the teacher could finish assigning it. Bulma went home after school and waited. Vegeta was supposed to come to her house to work on their project after MMA training, but after their spat, she didn’t know whether to expect him or not. She finally gave up waiting two hours after practice should have finished. Bulma went to bed clutching a pillow to her chest, wondering why it hurt so much to lose someone she hardly knew.
The next day Chi-Chi arrived at her house to walk her to school. When Bulma met her, Chi-Chi blanched. “Goodness, Bulma, you look awful.”
Bulma sighed. “Gee, thanks, Chi-Chi.”
Chi-Chi put a hand on her hip. “Look, Bulma. What’s wrong? You’ve been super mopey lately, and clearly you didn’t get much sleep last night. I thought you were over Yamcha.”
“I am,” Bulma replied, then amended. “I mean, this isn’t about him.”
Chi-Chi raised her brows. “Is this about the new boy you mentioned before? The one you weren’t even sure you liked?”
Bulma looked down at her shoes, kicking a stone out of the path. “We kind of had a fight.”
“You fight with everyone,” Chi-Chi stated matter-of-factly.
“No, a real fight,” Bulma stressed.
Chi-Chi looked dubious. “Well, did you apologize?”
Bulma stiffened. “Me? It was his fault.”
Chi-Chi arched a brow at her friend. “Oh? What did he do?”
“He…” Bulma trailed off, frowning. What had Vegeta done? “He’s… a total jerk. He didn’t help me when… well, he said he could have if it came to that, but he didn’t and he made me help myself… Okay, that didn’t come out right, just trust me, it was bad… Don’t look at me like that, Chi Chi. Anyway, he said we weren’t friends, but we clearly were, I mean, what else do you call it when you’re always texting and eating lunch together and… and now he won’t even talk to me…” Bulma trailed off, not sure where she was going with her rant.
“He said you weren’t friends?” Chi-Chi repeated.
Bulma nodded.
“In those actual words?”
Bulma hesitated. “Well… maybe not those words exactly, but that was the implication.”
“Mm-hmm,” Chi Chi replied, sounding skeptical. “And what did you say?”
Bulma kicked another stone. “I said, um… that he shouldn’t bother caring about me if we’re not friends.”
Chi-Chi shook her head slowly at her friend. “So you basically broke up with him?”
“I… No!” Bulma protested.
“That’s what it sounds like,” Chi-Chi replied with a nonchalant shrug.
Bulma bit her lip. “… Really?”
Chi-Chi nodded. “And it probably sounded like that to him too. If he’s not talking to you, it’s probably because he thinks he’s respecting your wishes.”
Bulma frowned, not ready to accept responsibility for her stalemate with Vegeta. “I doubt it, he doesn’t seem the type to respect other people’s wishes…. Anyway, why do I have to be the one who always makes the first move?”
“Because if he’s anything like the other guys you’ve been interested in, this guy is emotionally handicapped and as stubborn or more so than you are,” Chi-Chi told her frankly.
Bulma made a face. “Jeez, you’re being harsh.”
“Yep, but you’re a big girl, Bulma, you can handle it. And you need to hear it. If you’re this torn up over losing his friendship, then it sounds to me that you’re not willing to let him go yet. If that’s the case, you need to be the bigger person and try to mend the damage.”
Bulma sighed, aggravated. “Let’s not talk about it anymore,” she said, grumpy that Chi-Chi wasn’t taking her side more. “How was practice?” she asked to change the topic.
“The usual,” Chi-Chi said.
“What about the new guy?” Bulma asked carefully, hoping she was being subtle.
“Vegeta? Not much there. He’s still sitting out, injured. And he’s not very social. He was just staring at his phone the whole time.”
“His phone?” Bulma inquired, looking intently at her friend. “Why? Was he texting someone?”
Chi-Chi shook her head. “No, he was just looking at the lock screen. I thought he was watching a movie at first, but then I later saw that the screen was off. I guess he was expecting an important call.”
Or a text.
Bulma looked away to hide her guilty expression from Chi-Chi. Inwardly her heart was shattering, imaging Vegeta waiting all practice for an olive branch from her that never came. Vegeta might be the world’s biggest asshole, but she was the world’s biggest bitch.

~___X___~___X___~___X___~___X___~___X___~___X___~___X___~___X___~___X___~___X___~

When lunch came it was raining. Bulma hadn’t prepared a lunchbox, so she went to the cafeteria and bought two lunch trays before heading up onto the roof.
She opened the door and almost didn’t see him. He wasn’t sitting in his usual spot, instead he was huddled by the door, sat under a small awning to get what little shelter he could from the rain. Bulma closed the door and stood before him awkwardly.
Vegeta frowned and put his gameboy down, saying nothing, eyes downcast.
Bulma fidgeted with her trays of food. She held the bigger one out to him. “I didn’t have time to make a lunchbox…” she said, her voice trailing off.
Vegeta raised his eyes enough to see the tray. For a moment she thought he wouldn’t take it. Then he reached out and begrudgingly accepted the food.
Bulma hesitated before sitting down next to him. They both clutched their trays, neither eating, huddled miserably under the small awning to stay dry.
“You didn’t come over to study last night,” Bulma said softly to break the awkward silence. The rain pelted down hard. It narrowed their world down to just the two of them, blocking everything else out.
Vegeta’s fingers flexed on his tray. He sighed through his nose and put the tray down. “What do you want?”
Bulma cleared her throat nervously. “Well, we need to work on our class project-”
“No,” he stopped her. “What do you want from me, Bulma?” He cast her a sidelong look, then stared back at his food. “I can’t offer you anything.”
“That’s not true,” Bulma protested. “I iced my hand like you told me too, and it felt a lot better. See,” she showed him the hand she’d punched the ratty boy with. Her knuckles were still bruised, but there was no swelling thanks to her having taken his advice.
Vegeta looked at her hand, then dared to finally look at her. His brow furrowed at the sight of her. “You look like shit.”
Bulma scowled petulantly. “I wish everyone would stop telling me that. It’s rude.”
The corner of Vegeta’s mouth lifted in the ghost of a smile. “Well stop making us look at your ugly face.”
Bulma’s mouth dropped open, rendered temporarily speechless. “I… You… How dare you. I am not ugly, I’m fucking adorable! Like you can talk, you’re all busted up again. So much for not getting involved in fighting.”
“Whatever,” Vegeta said nonchalantly, ignoring her to pick up his tray and start eating.
“Why… you… Don’t ignore me, you dick!”
“Brat,” he countered around a mouthful of food, not even looking at her.
“Jerk!” She spat back.
“Entitled princess.”
“Asshole!”
“Friend.”
“Wh-what?” Bulma spluttered, shocked, unsure if she’d heard right.
Vegeta didn’t repeat himself, putting another forkful of food into his mouth. Bulma watched him for a solid minute, letting his confession sink in. Her heart was pounding too fast, too loud. She finally leaned back against the wall and started eating her own lunch to hide her astonishment.
Vegeta picked up the brownie on his tray and placed it on hers. When she gave him a questioning look, Vegeta just said, “You’re too skinny.”
Bulma felt her lip tremble. She clutched her fork hard to fight back tears, and she let out a small, trembling laugh of relief. “Th-thank you,” she croaked.
He grunted at her, the sound soft and kind.
She could hardly keep a smile off her face the rest of lunch. She couldn’t believe how good it felt to be talking to Vegeta once more. When they were finished eating, Bulma asked him about his game system. Vegeta showed it to her and for the rest of break he played while she watched, leaning her cheek against his arm to get a better view of the small screen as the rain continued to fall around them.

~___X___~___X___~___X___~___X___~___X___~___X___~___X___~___X___~___X___~___X___~

Do you have any plans this weekend? [Smiley face] [sun]
Why?
You should come over. We need to work on our project. [Thumbs up] [book] [computer]
When?
How’s tomorrow sound? If you get here early, my mom can cook you breakfast. [Winky face] [food icon]
Can’t. Running.
Afterwards then. Brunch? [food icon] [food icon] [food icon] [food icon] [food icon] [food icon].
Fine.
Yay! [Happy face] [streamers]
Bulma grinned, elated when Vegeta accepted her invitation. If she got her way, and she usually did, she’d have the whole day with Vegeta. Perhaps she could actually crack the hard shell he kept about himself and learn a little more about him.
She woke up the next morning and told her mother to prepare a lavish brunch. Then Bulma went about showering and doing her hair and spending far too much time choosing an outfit to wear. She settled on some short shorts and a red tube top. Cute but casual. Bulma looked at herself in the mirror as she applied bright red lipstick and suddenly stopped herself short.
“… What are you doing?” she whispered to herself. She was preparing as if for a date. Bulma grabbed a tissue and wiped the lipstick off her lips. She looked in the mirror once more, pointing a stern finger at herself. “Get it together, girl. He’s just your study partner.”
The doorbell rang, and Bulma hurried down to answer, but Mrs. Briefs beat her to the punch.
“My, my Vegeta, don’t you look handsome this morning!” Mrs. Briefs fawned as she let Vegeta in. Bulma came skipping down the stairs to see Vegeta scowling, looking askance and blushing at Mrs. Briefs words.
“Mama!” Bulma chided, but she couldn’t help agreeing with her mother’s words. Vegeta was dressed in dark blue jeans and a charcoal black button up shirt that hugged his broad shoulders and narrow waist. It was the nicest and most fitted thing he’d worn yet. Bulma almost missed a step drinking in the sight of him. She was starting to regret having taken her make-up off.
Vegeta looked up upon hearing her voice. Bulma watched him eye her from head to toe, then look away. He had a plastic bag in his hand which he handed over to Mrs. Briefs.
“Oh, what’s this?” the older woman twittered excitedly.
“A pie,” Vegeta mumbled.
“Oh Vegeta, that’s so sweet of you. Why don’t you put your bag in Bulma’s room, then you two come on down and eat. Brunch is almost ready.” Mrs. Briefs left the entry way and headed to the kitchen. Vegeta glanced over at Bulma again.
Bulma put a fist on her hip. “Are you trying to woo my mother?” she teased.
“Tch,” Vegeta replied and headed up the stairs towards her. “It’s only polite to bring something when you’re a guest.”
“Mm-hmm, that’s the first word that comes to mind when I think of you. ‘Polite’.”
“Cute,” Vegeta replied in a droll voice. “You’re a regular comedian.”
They headed to her room to dump his backpack. Bulma noticed that Vegeta’s hair was still damp and he smelt of soap. He must have come over fresh from a shower after his morning run. It took a lot of willpower to not let images of ‘Vegeta’ and ‘shower’ derail her train of thought to someplace inappropriate. His shirt sleeves were rolled up to the elbow, giving her a clear view of his forearms. They looked thick and powerful, and scared. Bulma wondered how he’d gotten them all.
With bags out of the way, they headed down to the kitchen where Mrs. Briefs had set up a lavish brunch. There were all kinds of delicious looking food laid out - various sweet and savory breads, waffles, fruit, jams, cooked eggs, slabs of steaming ham, bacon and sausage, mixed juices, teas, coffee and in the center, Vegeta’s pie.
“Mm, Mama, this looks lovely,” Bulma declared as she sat down. Vegeta took a seat next to her, eyeing the food with a strange, pained look on his face.
Mrs. Briefs beamed at them. “Well, eat up!”
Vegeta didn’t need telling twice. He took a bit of everything, especially the meat products, until his plate was piled high with enough food to feed three people. He and Bulma started eating, not bothering with small talk when there was fresh, delicious food to be eaten.
“Morning!” a chipper male voice called.
Vegeta nearly choked on his food. He stood up at attention, swallowing his mouthful as Bulma’s father wandered over to join them. “Morning, Sir,” Vegeta greeted stiffly. Bulma arched a brow at Vegeta.
Dr. Briefs glanced at Vegeta with a friendly smile. “Morning, son. You must be Vegeta. Hakase Briefs, pleasure,” Dr. Briefs introduced himself, holding out a hand to Vegeta.
Vegeta shook it respectfully. “Vegeta Saiyan, Sir.”
“Vegeta Saiyan, huh?” Dr. Briefs let Vegeta’s hand go to stroke his mustache. “So it must be your father who took over the new Lieutenant General position under General Cold, is that correct?”
Bulma’s eyes grew big, surprised by the information. Vegeta nodded. “Yes, Sir.”
“Planning on signing up when you come of age?”
Bulma noticed Vegeta’s hands fisting at his sides. “That’s yet to be determined, Sir.”
Dr. Briefs nodded, taking a seat. “Good boy. Consider all your options first. Please, don’t let me interrupt your meal.”
Vegeta sat back down and continued eating. Bulma threw him an uncertain, sideways glance, but Vegeta didn’t look at her so she turned her attention onto her father. “How do you know about the military, Papa?” she asked.
Dr. Briefs opened a newspaper as Mrs. Briefs poured him a coffee. “The appointment was big news at the company. The military always comes over every few months and poke about, trying to get me to invent things for them. It’s good to know who I need to politely refuse,” he winked at his daughter.
“Vegeta brought over a pie,” Mrs. Briefs told her husband, deftly changing the subject. She smiled at Vegeta. “Did your mother make it, honey?”
Bulma froze with her fork halfway to her mouth. Vegeta didn’t miss a beat. “No, ma’am. My mother passed away when I was young. The pie is from the bakery.”
“Oh dear,” Mrs. Briefs said, raising a hand to her mouth. “My condolences. Me and my big mouth.”
Bulma looked at Vegeta, but he was still eating, seemingly unconcerned by the topic of his dead mother. Bulma glared back at her parents. “Sorry about my folks and their intrusive questions,” she gritted out, directing her scathing tone at her parents.
“Now now, Bulma, we’re just being sociable,” Dr. Briefs defended, still looking at the newspaper.
“It’s fine,” Vegeta told her, giving Bulma a heavy look.
Bulma felt her cheeks redden and looked away, unable to hold his gaze. If she was the only one uncomfortable then there was no reason to be making such a fuss. She went back to eating her food.
Dr. and Mrs. Briefs chit-chatted about inane daily life while Bulma and Vegeta ate their meal. Vegeta made impressive work of his plate, finishing everything and reaching for seconds.
“My, you have a healthy appetite, Vegeta. Just like Goku, don’t you think, Bulma sweety?” Mrs. Briefs asked her daughter.
Bulma shrugged, feeling the sudden burning gaze of Vegeta on her at the mention of Goku coming over to eat. She was saved by her father.
“So what are you two up to today?” Dr. Briefs asked.
“Working on a school project mostly,” Bulma explained as she sipped her coffee.
“Nice, nice,” Dr. Briefs replied, only half listening.
Bulma put her cup down but in doing so, accidentally knocked Vegeta’s spoon off the table. She leant down to pick it up at the same as Vegeta did, and they hit heads.
“Ouch!”
“Tch!”
“Your head is as hard as a boulder!” Bulma complained, rubbing her brow.
“And your head is as big as one,” Vegeta grumbled back, rubbing his.
Mrs. Briefs laughed. “It’s good to see you two get along so well.”
Bulma and Vegeta glared at each other, then Bulma stood up. “Come on, rock head, our research isn’t going to study itself.”
“I’m not finished,” Vegeta replied stubbornly, staying seated to grab more ham.
Bulma made an agitated sound. “How much more can you possibly eat?”
Vegeta didn’t answer her, too busy angrily shoveling food into his mouth.
Bulma threw up her hands and sat back down, waiting impatiently for Vegeta to finish.
Ten minutes later, during which Bulma gave Vegeta her best dagger-filled look to hurry up, and he deftly ignored, they finally headed up to her room to study.

~___X___~___X___~___X___~___X___~___X___~___X___~___X___~___X___~___X___~___X___~

Bulma had her laptop open to her left, paper to her right. She was writing down notes when she suddenly got the feeling she was being watched. She glanced up and saw Vegeta staring at her.
“What?”
“You were humming,” he said, still looking at her with intense, black eyes. Bulma couldn’t tell if he was annoyed or amused.
“Oh, I was?” Bulma asked, unaware. She’d been in the zone; she took after her father that way, easily getting absorbed in her work.
Bulma put her pencil down and stretched her arms up above her head. She checked the time. She and Vegeta had been working for a solid couple of hours. She rested her elbows on the table and leaned over to peer at Vegeta’s work. “How’s it coming?”
Vegeta gave her a lingering glance, then let his gaze slide back at his work. “You know I can see down your top when you lean over like that.”
Bulma sat bolt right up, blushing. She pursed her lips, crossing her arms defiantly, taking on a haughty pose. “So? I have a gorgeous body, it would be a crime not to show it off.”
Vegeta turned off the tablet Bulma had leant him for researching. He smirked at her, saying nothing.
Bulma could feel the heat in her cheeks grow worse by the second. Vegeta’s dark eyes were dancing with wicked amusement, laughing at some secret jest only he knew. Bulma finally grabbed a pillow from the ground and threw it at him. “Pervert.”
Vegeta dodged the throw easily. “You’re the one dressed like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you’re waiting for the next virile male to come along and fuck you.”
Bulma spluttered with rage. “I… I’m… not! Maybe you’re projecting your own sick fantasies onto me.”
Vegeta snorted. “Don’t make me laugh.”
Bulma threw another pillow at him. “Asshole.” Vegeta easily deflected the pillow, but the gesture caused him to twist, and Bulma saw the wince he made as he did so. “Do your ribs still hurt?” she asked, her tone softer, concerned. Vegeta shrugged, the hint of his smile fading. Bulma knew he didn’t really like talking about his injuries, but she couldn’t seem to stop herself from prying. “If you need to get checked out again, my family has-”
“It’s fine, rib injuries just take a while to heal,” Vegeta said firmly, clearly wanting to end the discussion there.
Bulma sighed, her shoulders slumping. “Yeah, well, you would know,” she said, remembering how the doctor had pointed out that this wasn’t Vegeta’s first time with a fractured rib.
Vegeta gave her a dark look, not liking her suggestive tone.
Bulma pulled up her legs, resting her chin on her knees. “Why do you push yourself so hard? Would it hurt to take some time off to rest?”
Vegeta scowled, looking down at his notes. His jaw clenched, then relaxed. “I have to get stronger,” he said, his voice oddly subdued.
“Why?”
“Strength is power.”
Bulma cocked her head. “Knowledge too.”
Vegeta shrugged a shoulder. “Yes, that does help, but I’ve never seen a brain beat a bicep.”
Bulma scrunched her nose. “That sounds so barbaric.”
“Says the girl who punched someone when in trouble,” Vegeta dryly pointed out.
Bulma blushed, unable to deny his statement. “Yes, well, it was by still using words that got me out of that situation.”
Vegeta looked at her unflinchingly. “No, it was threats. The threat of your money and influence being better than theirs. As I said, strength is power.”
Bulma scowled, thinking his words over. Vegeta seemed obsessed with being strong, in every iteration of the word. Then she perked up, getting an idea. “So, to get strong, do you go to a gym?”
Vegeta looked at her, surprised by her shift in questioning. “No. Too expensive.”
Bulma grinned. Vegeta frowned at her, suspicious as she jumped to her feet. “Come on,” she urged, holding out her hand. Vegeta narrowed his eyes further, but he took her hand and stood up. “This way,” she urged. She made sure Vegeta couldn’t pull his hand away, curling her fingers tightly around his and leading him out of her room. He followed after her, and after a few moments of hesitation, twined his fingers in with hers.
Bulma felt her heart skip a beat.
She led him through the house until they at last came upon a large doorway. Bulma reluctantly let Vegeta’s hand go and leaned up against the door, facing him with a knowing smirk. “How much do you like me?” she asked him smugly.
“What?” he snapped, not amused.
“On a scale of 1 to 10?” Bulma insisted.
Vegeta sneered at her, folding his arms. “Minus 5.”
Bulma pouted. “Rude.”
Vegeta smirked. “Take it as a compliment. I would rate most people as much lower.”
“Gee, I feel so honored,” Bulma snarked back. She stuck her nose up. “Well, I only let friends with a rating of 7 or higher into my gym.”
Vegeta’s arms fell to his side. “…What?”
“Want to change your answer?”
“Out of my way,” he said, and shoved her to the side by her waist. Bulma cried out, outraged at his manhandling as Vegeta opened the door, letting himself in.
“How dare you!” Bulma spat, stomping her foot on the ground. Vegeta ignored her as he took in the sight of the large, fully equipped gym. His eyes grew big in surprise, staring at all the equipment. It was big enough to train an entire football team at once. Two teams even.
“It’s bigger than my whole house,” he murmured in awe.
Bulma pushed her way around him, standing before him with her arms folded. “Well take a good long look because it’s the last time you’ll see it!” she said angrily.
Vegeta’s eyes snapped to her, scowling. “Like hell. You can’t show me this and then expect me not to use it.”
“And how do you propose to get in?” Bulma asked him haughtily.
Vegeta smirked. “Bet your mom will let me in.”
Bulma cringed, knowing it to be true. “I’ll put a finger print reader on the door.”
“You wouldn’t,” Vegeta narrowed his eyes at her.
“I would!” she said firmly. “In fact, I’ll do it right now,” she brushed past him.
Vegeta reached out and grabbed her wrist. “Wait.”
Bulma stopped, looking over her shoulder at him.
Vegeta seemed to be struggling with something internally. He finally looked up at her, his expression pained. “What do you want in return for using this gym?” he gritted out.
Bulma smirked, victorious, until she realized she had no idea what she wanted from Vegeta, she’d only wanted to beat him at their verbal game. She looked at him, his surly face still mottled with bruises and cuts from his latest beating, his eyes dancing with uncertainty, vulnerability, at what he’d have to give up in order to have access to her gym. She had him in the palm of her hand, and she felt awful for it.
She sighed, tension leaving her body. “Nothing, Vegeta. You can use it whenever you like,” she grumbled, looking away. What a push over she was.
Vegeta didn’t answer right away. He was still holding her wrist. “Won’t your parents care?”
Bulma shrugged, still not looking at him. “No, they never use it, I only use the elliptical occasionally. The guys from the MMA team come over sometimes, but otherwise it’s just going to waste. You may as well make the most of it.”
Vegeta let go of her wrist. Bulma looked over at him and she caught something vulnerable in his gaze, but he looked away before she could put her finger on what it was. He stared at the gym for a while. When he turned back around, his expression was impassive, like he’d just bottled something up.
“I’m thirsty,” he announced, his voice gruff, his eyes not meeting hers.
“There’s drinks here… Oh, but they’re not cold,” Bulma said, remembering they never kept the refrigerators plugged in as the gym was so rarely utilized. “Well, kitchen’s this way,” she announced, and lead them out of the gym.
Once in the kitchen, Bulma pulled out two bottles of cold water and handed one to Vegeta. His hand touched hers as he accepted the drink. “Thanks,” he said, meeting her gaze and holding it.
Bulma nodded, suddenly unable to speak. Vegeta’s fingers slid over hers; it was the tiniest contact, but his touch was electric. Then his hand was gone and he turned to take a drink.
Bulma hastily opened her own water, hiding a furious blush behind her bottle. How ever was she going to survive the rest of the day with Vegeta when he was having this kind of effect on her? She watched him skull his water down in seconds, his head tilted back, his bicep flexed as he held up his drink to his mouth, his throat bobbing enticingly with each gulp. He gasped as he finished his water, then looked at her with a raised brow, curious as to why she was staring.
I’m doomed.

~___X___~___X___~___X___~___X___~___X___~___X___~___X___~___X___~___X___~___X___~

AN:

Aren’t we all, Bulma, aren’t we all.
Thanks everyone who reads and reviews and favorites and all that jazz, I can’t tell you how happy it makes me. Be sure to let me know your thoughts on this chapter!
Next chapter in a few days!

Disclaimer: Obviously I don’t own DBZ characters - they belong to Akira Toriyama, Funimation and Toei Animation as far as I know.
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