[Disclaimer: I don't own Dragonball Z. Yeah, just rub some more salt in those wounds, why don't ya!!]

Hey! I like BulmaxVegeta's but instead of using that old plot of what happened before the androids (not that I don't love that plot) I decided to start a new one. Two things inspired this story: a fic called Card Castle by and an old movie I like called the Ghost and Mrs. Muir, hence the title. Hope you like it. : D

The Ghost and Miss. Briefs (Yeah I know, bad title, but deal with it)

Chapter 1: The House

"Are you sure you want to do this, dear?" asked Mr. Briefs for about the third time.

His daughter sighed and smiled exasperatedly.

"Yes, Dad," she said patiently, "I am. I'm 23 years old now, almost 24. It's time for me to move out and let you live your own lives."

"But, Bulma, won't you even let us support you?" sniffled her mother, "How will you manage?"

"I've got some money saved up," she explained, "Don't worry! I'll be fine."

"Well," began Mr. Briefs reluctantly, "if anything goes wrong, don't hesitate to come back."

Bulma leaned over and hugged him and her mother, smiling brightly.

"Don't worry," she repeated.

The bluette then picked up her bags and smiled at them as she boarded her Capsule car. Her mother sniffed a few times but managed a smile as she waved goodbye. The car zoomed off down the street at a quick pace leaving the parents to wonder.

Bulma reached the real estate agency a few minutes' later, spirits high. She was on her own at last. Free to live her own life without imposing on her parents. The fact that she would also have an excuse to get away from her ex-boyfriend Yamcha was an added bonus. It hadn't been a good break up especially when he, a person with bad rejection issues, was the dumpee. He'd been pretty mad. She tried not to think of him though and as she walked into the small office her thoughts were only on getting a house and beginning her life anew.

"Goku?" she asked suddenly as she spotted the man at the desk, "Is that you? I didn't know you worked here!"

The man, Bulma's childhood friend Goku Kakarot, looked up at her in surprise before a wide grin slid into place.

"Hey, Bulma!" he cried happily.

He got up and walked over to her, putting her into a huge hug.

"Does Chi-Chi know you're here?" Bulma asked as soon as he let go.

"No, and please don't tell her," he said seriously before smiling shyly, "I took this job to save enough money and buy her an engagement ring."

Bulma's beaming increased ten fold.

"Oh Goku!" she cried excitedly, "She'll be so thrilled!! All she talks about is you and how much she loves you. It's about time!"

He blushed furiously.

"Well, uh," he started, "What are you doing here?"

"I've moved out," she said simply, "I've decided that I'm too old to live with my parents anymore. Have you got any houses I could look at?"

"Sure!" Goku said, nodding, "Follow me."

They sat at his desk and Goku started ruffling through some drawers. Soon he had extricated a large pile of papers from the turmoil that was his desk. Bulma guessed that even living with Chi-Chi, the embodiment of neat-freaks, hadn't helped his organization skills, or lack there of.

"Here we are!" he exclaimed proudly, "Look through these and I'm sure you'll find something you like. It's time for my lunch break."

And in a flash Goku was gone. Bulma sweatdropped. Even as a child he had been like that; he was always hungry. Well, she thought. I guess I'd better start looking through these. She picked up the first paper showing a small cottage in the country. Too small. The next was a seven-story apartment building. Too big. And so it went. She went through the whole pile but none of them were right. She had almost given up when a picture on the table across the room caught her eye. She placed the form about a houseboat down and walked over to the lone picture.

It was beautiful. The house in the photo was two stories high with only a few windows. It was made of a black stone of some kind and was surrounded by trees. By what the form underneath the photo said it was on the far outskirts of town and very secluded. A good place to think, it said. Bulma was tired of the city with its smells and noise so this place sounded perfect. Just at that moment Goku walked in with rice down his front showing he was done with lunch. When he saw her and what she was looking at, his eyes widened and he quickly snatched the forms out of her hand.

"Trust me, Bulma," he said seriously, "You don't want this house."

"Actually, Goku," she said snatching back the file, "I do want this house."

"But Bulma!" he said desperately, "You—"

Her glare stopped him. He knew it was fruitless.

"Fine," he sighed, "I'll take you to it but don't say I didn't warn you."

Bulma smiled and nodded as her friend walked her out to his car reluctantly and started it up. The whole thirty-minute drive was in silence but all thoughts were driven from Bulma's mind as she saw the house. The picture didn't do it justice.

In real life she saw it was actually 3 stories high including the attic. The black stone sparkled in the light of the afternoon sun and almost took her breath away. Sure, it was somewhat is disrepair, but she wasn't afraid of hard work and this house was worth it. It seemed Goku knew what she was thinking for he spoke up suddenly.

"It's definitely a fixer-upper," he began, "No one's lived here for about ten years."

"I don't know why," she said almost breathlessly, "It's wonderful." She turned back to him, filled with new determination. "I'll take it."

"Um...before you make any decisions how about we take a look inside first? Hm?"

Bulma eyed him suspiciously for a moment but nodded. He was hiding something from her and she would find out what eventually.

They walked up to the front door (it was ebony and carved with strange yet beautiful designs with a silver handle and knocker) and Goku fished out his keys almost nervously. Bulma's suspicion rose a few notches. The door swung open then and they entered. The foyer was large with a wooden floor but that's all she could make out in the pitch-blackness. That was soon remedied as Goku flicked a light switch near the door.

She gasped. In front of her was a wide stairway leading to the second floor. It's curved elegance reminded of the main stair in an American movie called Titanic except this one was made of darker wood and red carpeting. On the ends of the banisters were small golden balls with stars on them. To her left looked like a living room with a large dark blue couch and two armchairs around a glass coffee table. It also had a window but the golden colored curtains were closed. To her right was another room but the sliding door were closed so she couldn't tell what it held.

"It's amazing," she breathed, breaking the silence that had descended on them.

"It's kind of creepy if you ask me," mumbled Goku, "it's so dark and gloomy."

"Oh, I don't think so at all!" Bulma said, "I think it's wonderful."

There was a hallway next to the stairs on her right and she took it. It led to the kitchen, which was surprisingly large. It even had one of those walk-in freezers like in restaurants. Whoever had built this house sure had liked his food. The counter tops were white marble, which contrasted violently to the black metal beneath them and the black cupboards. The tile floor was white too and she wondered why the decorator had changed their style so suddenly. Through a doorway in the kitchen she saw the dining room with a large wooden table and silver candelabra.

Next to the kitchen was another room. The family room. There was a small railing separating them with a step down to get there. It held two more armchairs (red this time) in front of a large television. A few feet away was a couch facing the fire-place on the far wall. The plush goldish carpeting was soft under her sneakers. Bulma decided to check out the upstairs. She turned and started down the hallway again, back to Goku who was still standing uncertainly near the front door.

"Come on, Goku," she said, grabbing his arm and dragging him toward the stairs, "Come with me upstairs."

"I don't wanna!" he whined childishly.

"Please Goku?" she pleaded then glared a little, "Don't tell me you've turned chicken."

He shot a desperate look at the door but reluctantly let her drag him upstairs.

It was just as nice as the down stairs. Directly in front was what looked like the master bedroom. The large double doors were wood and was equally as dark as the rest of the house and had the same intricate marking carved onto it's surface. The silver handles weren't even tarnished. Bulma stepped up to the doors and slowly opened them. She jumped as a face swam out of the darkness and had to clap a hand over her mouth to stop herself from screaming. It was a painting of a rather handsome man. He was scowling but it looked like that was his usual expression. His arms were akimbo and it seemed as if he were floating in space wearing some kind of armor. His black hair was flame shaped and wild and onyx eyes glared out at her with a kind of ferocity. Whoever had painted it was very imaginative as to paint him in space.

Bulma looked around the room and took in the immensity of it. A huge canopy king-size bed was centered on the far wall made of the same dark wood as everything else (A/N: getting kind of uniform, huh?) and the red sheets looked like satin. On the right wall were two walk-in closets and on the left were two large windows, curtains blocking out any and all light. The painting was over a bureau next to the bed. What was strange was that this room, unlike all the others, was completely free of dust.

Bulma shrugged and exited. On the left of the master room's entryway was a small gym filled with very futuristic equipment. She was pleased. Bulma had wanted to get in shape. At the end of the hall way was another, smaller bedroom. It wasn't as fancy either so she put it down as a guest room. On the right of the large bedroom was the door to the attic.

"Hey Goku," she called suddenly, "What happened to the previous owner? I doubt that he'd willingly give up this great house."

"I don't know why but he did," said Goku, somewhat darkly or at least as darkly as he could sound while looking like he would bolt at any second, "He committed suicide."

Bulma gasped and looked a little sad.

"Oh," she said softly, "Why?"

"No one knows," Goku explained, "He kept to himself most of the time. Only his partner stayed here with him. We think they were brothers. People in the village just noticed that he hadn't come into town for food in a while and decided to have a look. They found him in his room with a bottle of unknown poison on his bedside table. His friend was dead on the ground next to him, broken neck."

Bulma shivered.

"What was his name?" she asked.

"Vegeta"

A low laugh echoed through the house suddenly.

"Goku," whispered Bulma, "Was that you?"

"No," he said fearfully, "I thought it was you."

The laughter started again. It was deep and a little raspy, slowly increasing in volume. Soon it echoed through the entire house ringing in their ears. Well, Bulma's ears. Goku was already almost to the door. Bulma wasn't too far behind. As they slammed the door behind them the maniacal laughter was still replaying in her head.

"I told you, you wouldn't like it," gasped Goku, shaking slightly, "But no, you just had to see it."

"Haunted," breathed Bulma, a smirk forming on her lips, "Fascinating."

"Fascinating!" cried Goku, "Are you crazy? It's terrifying! I'd give my life to get rid of this house! Five people have tried it and every one of them has had to see a shrink for at least three months after going in there! It's a nightmare!"

"Then I'll take it off your hands," said Bulma, her smirk widening, "This house suits me fine."

"Oh no!" objected her friend, "I'm not letting you get yourself get killed. Chi-Chi would murder me!"

"Well, it's not you or Chi-Chi's business now is it?" said Bulma angrily, "I want this house and you want to get rid of it. It seems to work out fine."

Goku looked trapped and helpless and seeing the tall, muscular man seem so weak would have made Bulma laugh if it had been any other circumstance.

"But Bulma," he whined, "I don't want you to get hurt! You're one of my oldest friends."

Bulma's face softened and she grabbed his hand.

"And you're the best friend I have, Goku," she told him, smiling, "I won't get hurt. I promise. Ghosts don't have bodies so it's not like it can strangle me or something. I'll be fine. You know me. I'm as stubborn as a wooden mule. There's no way I'd let a stupid old dead guy let this house get away from me."

The man sighed but was won over by her logic. They walked over to his car and pulled out the papers. Bulma bought that house on the spot.

"Hey Goku?" she asked as they drove back to town, "What's the name of the house anyway?"

"The people nowadays just call it the House," he smiled darkly, "But when Vegeta still lived there they called it Mercenary Manor."

[Hello! How was it? I know it was kinda dark but this is part ghost story! It's supposed to be dark! Hey! Guess what? I learned how to make a bunny! Look:

--( Y )

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o((")(")

YAY! Well...Review peoples! ...]