A/N: I thought I'd go ahead and throw in a little something for Black Friday. Enjoy and no flames.

Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ or any of the characters, Akira Toriyama does.

...

"Dad."

Vegeta turned to see his daughter Bulla standing in front of him, her hands on her hips and a look of determination in her azue eyes.

"What do you want, Bulla?" the Saiyan prince demanded. "No, I believe I'm correct in assuming you want to go shopping again."

"Actually, I was going to ask you if you could train me," Bulla answered, tossing her aquamarine hair.

"Training? You?" He could not have heard that right.

"Yes," his daughter said. "I want you to train me. I can go shopping in a few days."

"Alright, your mother's cooking must have finally gotten to me," Vegeta shook his head. "Why else would I be experiencing these hallucinations?"

The blue-haired demi-Saiyan frowned.

"Dad, you're always complaining about me spending all my time on frivilous pursuits like shopping and now that I'm here asking you to train me, you don't want to," she pouted.

Vegeta said nothing.

"You know, I don't what your teenage years were like," Bulla said. "But here on Earth, a teenage girl like me can be pretty vulnerable and it would be so nice to be able to defend myself should the situation ever call for it."

Her father rolled his eyes.

"I'm not falling for that, Bulla," he growled. "Did you want something or did you just come out here to interupt my training?"

"I thought I could count on you," the fourteen-year-old sighed dramatically. "After all, you're the most powerful warrior on the planet, second only to Goku. Hmm, maybe I should go ask him instead."

"YOU WILL NOT RECEIVE ANY TRAINING FROM THAT THIRD-CLASS CLOWN!" the flame-haired prince snarled. "I WILL BE THE ONE TO TRAIN YOU AND THAT'S MY LAST WORD ON THE MATTER! THE LAST WORD!"

"Okay!" Bulla chirped.

'Why do I suddenly have the feeling I've just allowed myself to be manipulated?' Vegeta asked inwardly.

...

"Alright, when it comes down to it, there is no such thing as 'fighting fair'," Vegeta said as Bulla took a fighting stance. "When you fight, you fight to win."

"Even if my opponent has an advantage?" the Saiyan princess asked.

"Especially if your opponent has an advantage," her father smirked. "That only makes deafeating them that much more entertaining."

Bulla nodded, though not fully understanding what this had to do with training.

...

Trunks had decided to train with Vegeta in order to get his father off his back. These were peaceful times, why did his father still insist on training practically nonstop?

The lavendar-haired President of Capsule Corp. had just about reached the Gravity Room when he saw something he never expected to see; his father and...his little sister?!

"I'm seeing things," he muttered. "I've got to be seeing things."

After rubbing his eyes, the son of Vegeta realized that he wasn't hallucinating. Bulla was indeed outside with their father.

"Okay, Dad's been on my case about not training for the last week," Trunks sighed, shaking his head. "Now he's trying to make me jealous by pretending to train Bulla. Well the joke's on him, I'm not falling for it."

Still shaking his head, the male demi-Saiyan turned and headed back to the house.

...

"Alright, well that's enough of that," Bulla said a week later.

"What?" Vegeta looked stunned.

"Well, I've trained for about a week now," his daughter shrugged. "And I think I know everything I need to know."

"Really?" Vegeta frowned. "I knew you wouldn't last."

"Oh trust me," Bulla smirked. "I've got everything I need."

Her father snorted and gave her a scornful look as she turned to walk away before turning back around.

"By the way, could you take me shopping tomorrow?" she asked.

"Of course," the Saiyan prince practically spat. "Back to your usual routine I see."

"Not exactly," his daughter winked before racing into the house.

Now Vegeta was baffled. What was that supposed to mean?

...

"Your going to the mall on Black Friday?" Bulma's eyes widened. "Wow, you are brave."

"Of course," Vegeta smirked before glaring. "And just what is that supposed to mean?"

"Oh...got a meeting!" Bulma exclaimed before hurrying away.

"Woman!"

It was too late; the blue-haired mother of Trunks and Bulla had already gone.

...

"You can just wait over there," Bulla said, nodding toward the chairs that had been set aside for the other fathers, boyfriends, and unfortunate significant others who had also been roped into taking their daughters, wives, girlfriends, and other female relatives to the madhouse that the mall had now become.

"Go," Vegeta barked at his daughter. "The sooner you begin, the sooner we can leave."

Bulla turned and walked up to the store and inhaled deeply, and in doing so, gained a soft blue aura.

"She's powering up," Vegeta said to himself. "Why is she powering up?"

Before he could come up with a satisfying answer, the Saiyan prince looked to see that his daughter had raced off.

...

"Oh no, you don't!" Bulla snarled, racing toward a black and tan purse just as a blond girl in a turquoise sweater-dress reached for it. "I saw it first, you bleach-blonde bimbo!"

The two girls reached the purse at the exact same time and both wrapped a hand around both of the straps and began to pull.

"Let go!" Bulla yelled at the girl. "This is a limited edition Louis Vuitton! If you don't let go, you'll ruin it!"

"At least you won't have it!" the blonde snapped.

"Why you-!"

Bulla sent her fist slamming into the girl's cheek, sending her flying back several.

Vegeta's eyes widened slightly as his daughter held up the purse, wearing a victorious grin.

And with that, the prince's interest was peaked.

...

Bulla snorted as she saw three girls standing in front of the mannequins showcasing three absolutely gorgeous dresses.

"Keep walking," one of them, a girl with an auburn ponytail, sneered. "These dresses are ours."

"While I appreciate the attempt at a challenge, I'm not leaving without those dresses," Bulla replied dryly.

"Well you'll have to get through all of us," piped up another one of the trio, this one a short girl with black braids.

"Is that it?" Bulla rolled her eyes. "Just watch me."

Placing the bag over her shoulder, the blue-haired princess somersaulted over the three girls, yanked the dresses off the mannequins, and dove over them once again.

"That was somewhat impressive," Vegeta commented, seeing this.

It was then that he saw an elderly woman heading for a red mini-skirt, only for Bulla to rocket right past her and scoop it up.

"A dried up old prune like you has no right to wear this!" she snapped.

The woman's mouth fell open.

Hearing this, Vegeta couldn't suppress a chuckle.

"She has a point," he shrugged.

"It's not for me," the woman protested. "It's for my grandda-"

"She doesn't need it!" Bulla interrupted, hurrying to stop another woman from grabbing the last pair of fluffy white snow boots. "And you don't need those! These are a perfect size six, how could you possibly expect to get your hooves into them?"

Vegeta burst into laughter as the woman's face flushed a bright crimson.

The Saiyan prince watched as his daughter raced through the store, paid for her items, and fought her way through the mob gathered in front of the door before going into a series of elaborate flips and handsprings and finally landing gracefully in front of the door, her purchases all safely tucked away in bags.

"Okay, I'm ready," she sang.

"This was your reason for wanting training?" Vegeta asked.

"Duh!" Bulla said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Did you see that crowd? It's a war-zone in there!"

"Well, at least you actually applied what you learned," the prince sighed. "So I suppose this wasn't a complete waste of my time."

...

"So you survived," Bulma joked. "That's no small feat, given the carnage there now."

"Yep! And I got some great stuff!" Bulla was positively beaming. "And it's all thanks to Dad."

"Vegeta, please tell me not to expect a lawsuit," Bulma said.

"As amusing as that would be, no," Vegeta answered. "Bulla applied what she was taught in training in her little shopping escapade."

"It was hard, but I emerged victorious!" Bulla squealed, carrying her purchases upstairs. "Dad, you can bring the rest up!"

Vegeta rolled his eyes, but was still smirking.

Bulma couldn't help but laugh...until she saw the footage on the TV of a mysterious blue-haired girl racing through the store, punching another girl out for a purse, somersaulting over three girls in order to take three dresses from the mannequins they were standing in front of.

"VEGETA!"

...

...

I hope everyone enjoyed that. And I hope everyone who partakes in it has a pleasant Black Friday. Just watch out for Bulla.

Reviews would be appreciated. Thanks.