*Disclaimer-I own nothing.*

A/N: 19th fic. 1st Dragon Ball fic... Alright, since I'm striving to be a different author, I tend to be more open-minded than most. Yes, I am a fan of Bulma and Vegeta, but long story short: I'm an author of variety. I love variety. Anyway, this idea struck me recently and I welcomed it. Read, Review, and Enjoy. If you don't like it, then don't flame, or read it. It only takes a couple of seconds to click off this story. Not to be rude, but some people have a bad habit of flaming...Review.

Ages: Bulma-16, Yamcha-16, Goku- is around six. He's not mentioned in this fic, but in order to give you a better idea of when this took place, I thought you guys should know.


Bulma stared up at the ceiling of her Math class, her chin resting on the palm of her right hand while she unconsciously tapped her pencil against her desk with her left hand, her thoughts drifting to none other than the ex-desert bandit himself.

Yamcha was on another one of his training outings and to be honest, it was seeming as if he had little time for her anymore, and she couldn't help but feel upset. She wasn't upset with the fact that he was training, just upset with the fact that she seemed to be on the bottom of his priority list.

The blue-haired girl frowned as she unconsciously stopped tapping her pencil against her desk. She refused to be on the bottom of anyone's list. After all, a beautiful girl like herself deserved to be treated like the beautiful girl she was. Her frown turned upwards, turning into a small smirk, at that last thought.

Before she could dwell on that last thought any longer,she was knocked out of her thoughts for a quick moment when she saw movement out of the corner of her eyes. Curious, she turned her head in that direction, to the left, only to see one of her classmates just pull out their phone. She shook her head at her classmate's stupidity and audacity to text while being seated in the front of the classroom. She mumbled the word 'idiot' before deciding to turn her attention elsewhere, her eyes landing on the clock hanging on the wall.

If you asked her, this class should be just about over, well at least she hoped. She really didn't see the point in coming to school when she practically knew all there was to know. She was very much tempted to skip the rest of the day. It wasn't as if she'd get in trouble, she knew that for a fact, besides, she skipped plenty of times before. It wasn't as if she didn't know the material.

"Bulma?"

The blue-haired girl shook her head, and turned her attention towards her teacher. Seeing that she had Bulma's attention, the teacher continued, "What's the square root of forty-five?"

"Three square root of five," Bulma answered dully, no trace of hesitation evident in her voice. The teacher nodded at Bulma's response, before turning around, her back facing her students, and scribbling a couple of things on the board.

Bulma sighed, mentally debating on whether or not this class, or school in general, could get any more boring. She rolled her eyes, deciding she had just about enough of school for today. She turned her head towards the window, observing the weather, which happened to be pretty fair. The blue-haired girl then stood up, and grabbed her backpack, before leaving the classroom without another word.

%%%

After making it home, and then locking the door back up shortly after, she then headed straight to the kitchen for something to eat, knowing full well that her stomach wouldn't last another minute if she didn't eat when the opportunity presented itself.

She absolutely refused to eat the slop the school called food. She placed her red book bag on the floor, before heading towards the fridge, her eyes skimming through its contents as soon as she opened it. 'Spaghetti...leftover pizza...a few apples,' she noted mentally, mentally debating on what to grab as she looked at some of the other items that were in the fridge as well. She already knew for a fact, that nothing in the fridge seemed to be anything she was in the mood for, but she wouldn't be picky.

She'd just be sure to go out, and get something more to her taste later. She nodded, liking that idea, before pulling out the box of pizza, and shutting the fridge door shut, resulting in a small, piece of paper falling off, and hitting the floor. She raised an eyebrow, before bending over to pick it up, reading it as soon as her blue eyes hit the paper: Bulma, by the time you read this, your mother and I will already be at a meeting being held at Capsule Corp. It'll take a while, so help your self. We'll be home by nine.

'No wonder it was so quiet when I got home.' Bulma released a sigh, placing the note on the nearby counter. She then grabbed a plate from the cupboard, before grabbing two slices of pizza and setting them on the plate. Afterwards, she then placed her plate in the microwave, pressed a couple of buttons on the microwave, and then threw the now empty pizza box in the trashcan.

She didn't have to be a genius to know that someday, she'd be shouldering the responsibilities of Capsule Corp. Whether or not she was ready, she wasn't sure, but she was sure she'd find out in due time.

%%%

Bulma laid on the couch, staring at the TV in complete boredom. It was now seven o'clock, which meant that five hours had passed, and not only was she bored, but she still hadn't heard from Yamcha yet either. She huffed, her lips turned in a frown, and her blue eyebrows knitted downwards. It has been a month since she heard from him; he could have at least made the time to talk to her.

What a jerk. She'd be sure to give him an ear full the next time he decided to show his face. She then stood up, deciding to go ahead and take a shower, before heading out to get something to eat like she promised herself earlier. Once she made it up the stairs, and then entered her room, she immediately began heading for the bathroom. Shortly after she made it to the bathroom, she then began to prepare for her shower, stripping off her clothes and then starting the water. Finally, after everything was set, she then hopped in...

Bulma stood in front of her mirror, examining the outfit she was currently wearing, mentally debating on whether or not, she should change it again. She looked down at the white, knee length dress and her red sandals, finally opting to just wear it. It really didn't look all that bad. She was still gorgeous as ever, not like that'd ever change. Her gaze then lingered up to her hair, debating on whether or not she agreed with the current hairstyle she wearing. Her light blue hair was up in a loose bun, nothing too fancy, but it had just about the right effect she wanted it to have. She flashed herself a grin in the mirror, before grabbing her coat and purse, and taking off down the hall.

Luckily, the restaurant she planned on going to wouldn't have too much paparazzi around, an to top it all off, the restaurant wouldn't be too crowded. She smiled, before grabbing the same note her father left her, and flipping it over. She then began scribbling something on the back about her whereabouts if they should be back before her, and then placed it where she knew they'd see it. 'Okay, now that that's settled, I can get going.'

The blue-haired girl then rushed towards the door, and quickly opened it once she reached it; however, before she had the chance to proceed any further, she ran into something. The blue-haired girl lifted her gaze upwards, confusion evident in her blue eyes, before softly squeaking out... "Yamcha?"

He grinned down at her, one hand behind his head. "Hey, Bulma."

The look of confusion she had in her eyes, turned to one of happiness as she latched herself onto him. "Yamcha!"

He wrapped his arms around her, returning her embrace. "I'm glad you missed me."

Bulma's eyes widened as realization hit her. She pulled back, and glared at him, the happiness now replaced with anger. "Oh, yeah? Well, did you miss me? You were gone for over a month, and you didn't even call me one time."

Yamcha cowered slightly as he raised his hands in defense, knowing full well that an angry Bulma was not an Bulma he wanted to mess with. "I'm sorry, Bulma. You're right. We haven't even been dating for half a year yet, and I'm already messing up."

"Hmph." She crossed her arms over her chest. "You should be sorry." He sighed, and her anger left almost instantly when she noticed the emotions swirling around in his eyes. She dropped her arms from her chest, her arms now hanging by her side as guilt for making him feel bad ate at her conscience. "Hey, it's okay. All that matters is that you're back, right?"

He nodded, and started to speak, but Bulma cut him off. "I was just heading out to grab something to eat, why don't you join me?"

His features lit up instantly as he took in her words. "Yeah, I'd like that."

She flashed him a smile, emitting a small, playful laugh as she hooked her arm around his. "Good. Let's get going."