This is my second story and I started it a while ago but I think its time that I put it on line. Hope you like it!

Disclaimer!: I own nothing!

--+--+--+--+--+--+--+--

The limo driver looked in the review mirror at the annoyed looking blue haired heiress, they had been on the road for a little over two hours and she still sat in the exact same position that she had started with. She must have felt his eyes on her because she shifted her searing glare from the window to the mirror he was looking in. Swallowing hard he looked back at the road and continued to drive. The girl looked back out the window and counted the trees that sped by to pass the time. 'Thirty-two…thirty-three…' she shifted her crossed arms a little bit as the sun began to shine in her eyes. 'Thirty-four…ok I've had enough of this…' she thought to her self. Turning her head so she could look out the back window she tried to see if there were any other cars on this desolate road besides the limo her mother had practically shoved her in. Frowning as she saw that there was no other car she turned back around and slouched further in her seat. Every year since she was two years old she had spent the summer at the Ouji Manor. The Ouji's had over two hundred acres all to them selves out in the middle-of-nowhere New York with no neighbors for over ten miles. This place was either your dream come true or your worst nightmare, and for the primp and perfect heiress from Kildare Ireland with a summer home in London, this was with out a doubt the last place she wanted to be. She had nothing against New York, Americans, or Mr. and Mrs. Ouji for that matter, but their son was another story. Vegeta Ouji had been her worst enemy since as far back as she could remember. Always pulling her hair, making fun of the way she talked, tripping her, pushing her in the mud, locking her in closets, and just being mean. She couldn't remember one time where he was any where close to nice to her and no matter how many times she told her mother about all this she just got ignored.

"We'll be there in about 30 minutes Miss. Briefs." Came the drivers voice as he ripped the girl out of her thoughts. She gave a slight nod and replayed the scene in her head where her mother shipped her off to another summer of hell.

"Mother!"

"Not now Bulma! You're going and that's that now get in the limo!"

"No! I am seventeen years old and I'll be eighteen in less than a week! The last thing I want to do is spend another summer at that bloody Ouji manor! Let alone have a birthday there!"

"Bulma! You had best talk like a lady! I have half the mind to wash that mouth of yours out with Lye soap! Now you will show respect for them and me or so help me god there will be hell to pay! So it would be in your best interest to get in the car."

"No!" Bulma whined as the butlers loaded her stuff into the trunk of the limo. Tears of rage formed in her eyes as her mother handed the limo driver the directions to the airport.

"Make sure she gets on the plane! Walk her to the gate and be careful with her."

"Mother please…don't make me go…" Bulma tried one last time as she saw her father come out of the house to say goodbye.

"Bulma for the last time, no. Dear come say goodbye to our daughter so she can be on her way!" Mrs. Briefs yelled.

"Bye pumpkin!" her father said sweetly while handing her his credit card. "Buy what ever you want."

"Like I'll find anything I want out in America…" she mumbled as he kissed her check.

"You'll be back before you know it and make sure to say hello to Mr. Ouji for me love." He said as he cell phone rang. Her father owned seven dance clubs, four top restaurants, a Liquor company, one of the top fashion designing companies, an amusement park, a few horse farms, and around twenty hotels to top it all off. He waved one last time and disappeared back into the house.

"Ok Bulma dear, you look great so make sure not to be too rude to Vegeta." Her mother said while the driver opened the door for Bulma.

"Mother for the last time I will never ever be nice to that bloody roach!" she yelled as she got in the limo and slammed the door.

Bulma looked back out the window and smirked this year Vegeta was going to get it. Last time she saw him he still had his braces, acne that made his face look like the surface of Mars, an over bite that could take out an air plane, and a buzz cut to end all buzz cuts. Needless to say he was pretty atrocious looking but he had an ego that could put anyone's to shame, which caused girls to be pulled to him like a magnet for reasons Bulma couldn't seem to figure out. Bulma was pretty sure she was going to take Vegeta by storm this year because she had finally grown into her long legs, she had gotten contacts, her braces came off, her bangs grew out, and the one freckle smack in the center of her forehead had gone away. The fact that she had filled out a little more was just an added bonus in her mind. In the distance she could see the oh-so-familiar Ouji Manor looming in the distance, or at least the gates. The whole property was fenced in by ten-foot high stonewalls which gave Bulma the feeling that she was in prison with no hope of getting out. Before she knew it they were past the main gate and were now driving down what had to be the longest drive way this side of the universe.

Vegeta went to a coed boarding school out in Connecticut and Bulma went to an all girls school back in Kildare. They only had to see each other once a year for three months and neither of them enjoyed this time they had together. Vegeta would always have some blonde bimbo over or some bunch of rambunctious schoolboys with loud mouths and roaming hands. Bulma let out a slight shudder as the Limo pulled up into the loop in front of the door. She saw Mr. and Mrs. Ouji come out front to greet her; she looked for Vegeta but didn't see him. The limo pulled to a stop and she climbed out, Mrs. Ouji ran up to her and pulled her into a bone-breaking hug.

"Bulma! Look at you!" Mrs. Ouji squealed as she spun Bulma around.

"Hey Mrs. Ouji, Mr. Ouji." Bulma said, Mr. Ouji just nodded and walked back inside. A butler rushed over to the car and began to carry her bags. She watched them for a moment as Mrs. Ouji rambled on and on about how the summer was going to be 'super' fun. Looking back over at the raven-haired woman she saw someone step out of the house.

"Vegeta Darling!" Bulma heard Mrs. Ouji scream. Her breath caught slightly in her throat as she watched the boy that she grew up with step out side. Her eyebrows furrowed as she went over the checklist she had made in her mind about how atrocious he looked and she couldn't seem to match any of them to him. The zits were gone, the braces were gone, the over bite was gone, and the buzz cut had been grown out to a wild mess of hair. She saw him smirk as her eyes roamed over him so she made a point to send him a glare that could turn even a war veteran's blood cold.

"Well, well, well, look who it is? It's the princess." He said sarcastically as she straightened out her jacket and matching skirt. "Have you come to grace us with your presence again this year?"

"Can it Veg head!" She snapped while the butler finished unloading all of her bags.

Vegeta glanced over at her luggage then back over to her. "I have to say Miss. Briefs, the pattern on those bags of yours seems more appealing than the pattern on that hideous skirt suit you're sporting."

"Sporting? What the bloody hell does that mean?" She demanded.

"Oh that's right I forgot, you're too good for American slang. Well how do I put it…that motel bed spread that you're wearing, yeah well its pretty ugly."

"How dare you! This is a Roberto Cavalli original!"

"Right you header."

Mrs. Ouji smiled at them and then headed inside figuring it was best if she let them 'catch up' or hopefully start to be nice to one another. The butlers finished unloading all of Bulma's bags and then took them into the house leaving Bulma and Vegeta alone. Bulma glared at the limo as it drove back down the driveway and out of site. "Ugh, whatever you git. You can learn all the Irish slang you want but that doesn't mean I'm going to talk to you." She stated while trying to push past him to get into the house.

Vegeta smirked and decided that he was going to give her a hard time so he just stood in the same place in front of the door. "Going some place?"

"Yes, to my room now move!"

"No, how about you ask nicely?"

"How about you move your fat arse!"

"My fat arse? Hello have you seen my so-called fat arse? I look hot and there is no way you can deny that."

Bulma looked at him then straighten her headband. "Yes, yes, you look hot, oh Vegeta, I want you, I need you, take me now!" she said sarcastically

Vegeta growled then turned sharply to go inside. "You know Bulma, you're going to say that one day and you're going to mean it." He hissed with his back to her.

"Yeah well It'll be a cold day in hell you bloody Gobshite!" she yelled after him. Bulma stood on the porch for a few more moments so that she could make sure he was gone and then she took a very cautious step inside. She looked around at the spacious foyer at the marble columns and the grand staircase. The whole room was beautiful but still held a cold feel to it. She climbed the stairs, listening to the echo of her high heals on the marble, she thought about all the times Vegeta had tripped her down these very stairs. One summer when she was thirteen he 'accidentally' left his skateboard on the stairs at night right before she came down to get some water and she stepped right on it, slipped down the stairs and broke her arm. She turned left at the top of the stairs and headed to the west wing to her room. Her room and Vegeta's room were right next to each other so he made sure to blare his American rap music as loud as he could every night at ten when Bulma goes to bed. After about ten minutes she finally reached her room. She looked over at Vegeta's door and then went into her room. Her room had been the same lavender color ever since she was four, the bed had been the same mahogany canopy bed, and no matter how many pictures she hung up on the wall of her friends it still never felt like home.

She left out a sigh as she began to think about her best friends Chichi and 18 who were back in Ireland. Bulma crossed the room to her balcony and looked out the French doors at the horses that were grazing in one of the fields. She sat down at the edge and put her legs between the bars so she could dangle them off the side. One of her shoes came loose then fell off. She heard it clatter on the side patio but ignored it not really caring what happened to her shoe at the moment, she had all summer to get it anyway.

--+--+--+--+--+--+--+--

Like it? Read more! Thank you!