The poignant skies glared down on me, casting a desolate shadow over my petite form. I ran my toes over the coarse grass, feeling the blades curl under the soles of my feet. It was a Saturday afternoon. One of those really gloomy Saturday afternoons that always left me reconsidering my life choices. Something about overcast weather evoked a deep-rooted depression within me. But really, I was trying to work on my dramatics.

Daddy was having his close friends over today. I'd say they were my friends too, if they weren't so much older than I. There was Goku who had practically been with me since I came out of the womb. Sixteen who I didn't know quite as well but was kind just the same. Launch, the purple haired beauty who I had admired dearly until I deduced how brainless she was. And Krillin. I was closest to Krillin.

Daddy told me there was someone else coming today, someone he had looked after as a teenager. I wondered why he would want to spend time with a kid he used to babysit, but he insisted that he was very mature, despite being seven years his junior. I did a mental calculation; that would make the mystery fellow 35. Certainly younger than the rest of my father's friends, but no one that would see me as a worthy conversationalist.

It killed me. I was 17, not seven. At my tender age, I was still light years more intelligent than any of my father's companions. And yet, they treated me as baby Bulma, the blue-haired, spunky little girl who used to run around the Capsule Corporation grounds in her understand. I wasn't someone to be belittled, I was someone to be celebrated. Daddy told me I already had a position in the company secured by the time I graduated college.

I didn't even see the point in attending, but the prestige was necessary. I was certain there was nothing a Calculus III professor could surprise me with, but I needed the credits to achieve success.

I heard a distant clattering in the kitchen and figured the guests had begun to arrive. I supposed it was time to crawl out from under the old Oak and greet my father's friends, but nothing sounded less pleasant than forced socializing with people who didn't fully understand me.

"Bulma!" I heard my mother's chipper voice break the calm silence that was bubbling around me. I begrudgingly strolled back into our compound, plastering a pristine smile across my face.

I liked my father's friends. I really loved them, in fact. But there comes a point when you don't want to be "little Bulma" anymore. You want people to look at you as an adult. I'm definitely fairly arrogant and wildly intelligent for my age, so I craved that respect with a vehement vigor.

When I entered the parlor, everyone was gathered around, sipping various beverages contently. They all looked up at me as I took a seat next to Goku and cheered. I blushed. The attention was nice, yes, but meant for a child. It bothered me.

"Hey, babe!" Goku greeted me warmly, engulfing me in a bone-crushing embrace.

"Hey, Goku! I missed you," I told him, resting my knee against his. "How've you been? When was the last time I saw you? Gohan's birthday?"

My father's best friend rubbed his chin. "I think so, babe. Gosh, that was so long ago! I'll take you out to lunch soon, just the two of us."

I was enjoying my conversation with Goku. Whenever I spoke with him privately, he treated me more as a teenager than a little girl, which was certainly better, even if it wasn't necessarily adult status. "Sounds lovely. Our usual place?"

"Only the best for you," he joked, a twinkle sparkling in his ebony eyes. Goku was so youthful as a personality that it always astounded me to see the crow's feet around his eyes. He was physically aging, but he would always be the same. He would always laugh at the same jokes.

"Bulma, sweetie," Launch stirred me from my conversation with Goku. "How is school?"

"It's fine now, but junior year has been pretty hectic," I told her honestly. "At least summer is coming up, yeah?"

She smiled at me, sympathy coating her dark eyes. "Ah, yes. Junior year. I remember how I thought it was the worst experience ever, you know, when I was your age. But when you get older, you'll miss school."

I felt my blood heat slightly. There it came, the old schpiel about how I should appreciate my youth and yada yada. I knew it wasn't Launch's intention to be condescending, but I always felt so belittled when she talked to me that way. I had far greater worries than she did, and I was also much younger! Not that there was anything wrong with her occupation, but she lived at home and took care of the kids while her husband, Tien, worked.

I managed school, an internship with Capsule Corp, and a part-time job at a mechanic's shop down the road. It was a lot. And I loved it all. I mean, I wasn't doing it for the money, I just fucking loved mechanics. Being an engineer was ingrained into my DNA, I was fairly sure. I loved to get lost in a project while blasting Taylor Swift and come home covered in grease and flushed with a rush of endorphins.

I heard some commotion spiraling from the front end of my house. My father was speaking to a man whom I did not know. He had tall, spiked hair and what seemed like a permanent furrow in his thick brows. He was wearing a thin, black shirt and dark jeans. His arms were folded across his chest as though he needed to be defensive about something. He had pale, pink lips (which I caught myself staring at for more than an appropriate amount of time) that were curled upward in a tantalizing smirk.

I nudged Goku. "Who's that?"

Goku looked up to inspect whom I was pointing at and rose his eyebrows. "Oh, wow! That's Vegeta. I haven't heard from him in years. Your dad used to look after him when we were kids. But I remember him being really mature for his age."

My father and the so-called Vegeta began walking over to where Goku and I were lounging. "Bulma, dear, I want you to meet an old friend of mine. This is Vegeta Ouji." He gestured to Vegeta, and I looked up at him, my breath hitching in the back of my throat when our eyes met.

God, I was a loser. He had bottomless, enchanting, onyx orbs as opposed to normal, black eyes. They were frightening and enthralling, all at the same time. I just wanted to stare into them. I didn't want to look away.

I inwardly shook myself, knowing I must look like a doofus to Vegeta. "Hi, I'm Bulma. It's great to meet you." I extended my hand for him to shake, and he accepted it, rather slowly, as though he wanted to draw it out. My stomach must have dropped right out of me when our hands touched. I felt electrified as his eyes pierced into mine.

"Hi, Bulma," he said, his hoarse voice caressing my name seductively. I shuddered with delight.

Fuck.

A/N: Okay, hi again. I know I'm starting another new story, but this idea came at me, and I just could not ignore so. So, I hope you like it. If any of you have read the lovely Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov, well...I'll just leave you with that.

Please review! This story is going to be so dope, I already know it. That might sound conceited, but the plot has just got me so thrilled, and I can't wait to share it all with you. But I can't share it unless you let me know you want to hear more from me, so once again, please review!

I love you all. If you haven't, check out my other stories, Her Brave Spirit and Burning Sunsets and Lost Nights (also centralized on Bulma & Vegeta because they're the fucking best couple ever).

Later! xx Aisha