This was written purely for entertainment. I do not own any aspect of the Dragon Ball franchises. They belong to Akira Toriyama!

"Dad you should really be more careful…", she complained through her frown.

Mr. Briefs was terribly amused although he would never admit it. Bulma remained on her hands and knees, trying to peer underneath the couch. Her eyes were heavy, and burning from the salt of her tears just hours before.

"Are you sure that you didn't leave the door open, dear?", he asked her again.

"Yes. Did you check your office?"

"It's empty."

Bulma took a moment to think about the strange character of her father. Although a genius, he was constantly loosing track of everything that he touched-keys, glasses, shoes. It was a simple rule in the Briefs residence; if he touches it, it will be lost. Of course that is why her mother always dealt with the paperwork. Mr. Briefs twiddled the cigarette between his fingers before lighting it with great care. Bulma smiled as he crossed his eyes to look underneath his aged glasses to light the cigarette. Wispy locks of hair fell across his forehead. The color of his fair was blanched and faded as if it was giving way to another shade of grey.

"You should get new glasses too."

He managed to look up at Bulma and nod with a curtly smile although his shoulders were rounded over with age. He slipped his hands behind his back. White smoke poured in tiny ringlets from his cheeks. Bulma anticipated the joke, the punch line laced with wisdom that he always made them wait for. His silence was telling.

"Only Broken things need to be fixed. Being outdated is only a matter of style and preference, dear, and all lost things can be found.", he reminded her.

Bulma laughed at his remark. She always did, but this time she had a hard time accepting how right he may be. He had perfected the art of allowing the cigarette to dangle from his lips without falling. Bulma headed for the front door while he paced away in the opposite direction.

"And sometimes they show up when you least expect it", He said with his back to her. Bulma nearly allowed the cold perspiring glass to slip through her fingers at the sound of his unexpected voice. She had no need to turn around she knew he would be standing with both feet together and one finger rose to note his fact.

Vegeta stood up as the darkness fell down around him. The whir of the engine of the gravity chamber wound down. The building sounded as if it was groaning, thankful to get some rest from its relentless use. He enjoyed a few passing moments in the darkness until he realized that his training was being interrupted.

"Damn it!",

He lended his ear to the curious whining sound that pricked his ears while he rapped a towel around his neck.

"Woman, what the hell! I told you to fuck off!"

He grimaced at the subtle realization that even he, the prince of all Saiyans, was not immune to talking to himself. Of course she couldn't hear him behind the glass. Again. Vegeta looked through the glass of the control center for the chamber and couldn't see a thing.

"Come out right now!".

His jaw began to cramp from is clenched teeth. He had waited long enough for her to make an appearance. Vegeta beat his fist on the glass, but she still had the audacity not to come. He had enough. He stormed through the door, holding his breath to scream at her. He held it in vein. His breath escaped in a gasp of surprise. His hand still clung to the handle. His eyes grew wide and he allowed one foot to slip out of the door. He inched closer with his back against the wall.

"What have you done? What heinous act is this?", he hissed behind his narrowing obsidian eyes.

"mew…"

Scratch blended in with the velvet rich darkness. Even Vegeta had to strain to see his small form. He did not retreat behind the severed connectors hanging behind the motherboard.

"The handiwork of your damn teeth!"

"Roawww", he yawned. His tiny pink tongue innocently glided across his teeth. He cocked his head to the side as he studied Vegeta.

"How dare you mock me. I will end you!"

Scratch arched his back, stretching along his spine. He curled is tail high into the air before brushing against Vegeta's leg. Vegeta withdrew his leg as if the cat was on fire. Scratch leapt to the counter before casting a curious gaze at Vegeta.

" no you don't…"

It was too late scratch was sitting on Vegeta's shoulder kneading the muscles in his neck with his tiny black paws.

Bulma was nearly asleep when she noticed the sun was blocked from her eyes.

"Vegeta!", she screeched.

She slipped from her hammock onto the ground. She threw her hands up in surprise. Her loose, sloppy bun fell apart; she looked like she stuck her finger in an electrical socket. Stray pieces of wild hair covered her shoulders. Her orange mimosa adorned her simple white tee shirt and her rolled up denim pants.

"What's the big deal?!"

Vegeta looked utterly wild to her on a good day. Her heart was racing. It wasn't every day that he would show up in complete silence drenched with sweat and wearing scorn as his cloak.

"This thing interrupted my training!"

Bulma had no words to say. Scratch continued to knead Vegeta's shoulder.

"You will find no weakness in me…", he spat as he eyeballed the small black cat, "I am no fool. I know your plans…"

"little trouble maker… Thank you, Vegeta.", Bulma mumbled.

Rosey blush covered Vegeta's high cheeks and ears after Bulma's soft hands brushed his shoulder when she pulled the purring cat into her arms. Vegeta stalked away, hoping that nothing more would be said.

"Red suits you, Vegeta."

Vegeta cringed. He stopped in his tracks to mull over what she said, feeling certain that his shorts were blue. Then he realized it, and it was too late. Bulma giggled at him like she always did. He cursed her like always had.

Thank you for reading! Please review so my writing can get better. Feel free to send messages. ^-^