All Kyota wanted to do was drink her frustrations away. Suffice it to say she manages that and even more; however, she gets in way over her head, and it seems that a certain Saiyan prince is to blame. WARNING: EXPLICIT SEXUAL SCENES IN SECOND CHAPTER AND CURSING IS PRESENT AS WELL! Don't like, don't read! Please, feel free to post any comments or pointers you may have, as I am still an amateur at writing this kind of stuff! With that out of the way, enjoy the story!

Chapter 1- Ares

Today is not what I'd call a good day.

Let's start with the fact that my adopted daughter, who's actually a human-looking alien from a destroyed planet (don't ask, it's a long story), decided to not only drop out of school because she wanted to have more time to train in order to risk her life to save the earth (that's an even LONGER story), but she also started her training with a male of her race who actually tried and almost succeeded in destroying the earth (are you really asking questions at this point?).

I don't even know why I said yes to little Sonara. She's so sweet and innocent, and she wants to save the world, but, apart from a friend I made rather recently, she's really the only family I have. I get why she'd want to train with a Saiyan, since that's the race she hails from, as a pure-blood; if that's the case, though, why doesn't she train with Goku or Gohan? Not only does Gohan have a similar amount of strength as her, so Goku wouldn't have to change up the training regimen too much, but Goku would also know when to take a fucking break, unlike that arrogant son of a bitch who she idolizes so much for some fucking reason.

Now, self, you may be asking me how I can deal with the stress of my child turning down her education in favor of fighting for the safety of humanity with a person devoid of humanity who I never get tired of hating; well, for me, at least, the answer is obvious.

Get. Fucking. PLASTERED.

Some parent I am, right? Well, brain, you'd be happy to know that I only save drinking for holidays and those special occasions where I can't seem to do anything to calm myself down. Honestly, I like to think that I've learned how to handle my stress to the point where I only need to drink on non-holidays about three or four times a year. So, to answer your predictable question, no, I am not, and never will be an alcoholic.

"Shit, it's cold out here…" I mutter to myself, the early fall breeze waking me from my deep reverie. I must've been looking in through the bar window for about five minutes now. Pfft, I can just imagine some dude walking up to me and saying something lame like, "Hey, it's pretty cold out here, huh? Wanna warm up at my place?" and I don't even respond because I'm so lost in thought. If that had happened, I'm glad that he isn't here anymore, otherwise I'd feel slightly guilty for giving him the cold shoulder, no pun intended, without even giving him a glance…emphasis on slightly.

I sigh and pull my blue beanie down over my fluffy white ears. I'm self-conscious about being a half-cat, half-human hybrid, sue me! Well, I'd say I'm more human than cat: after all, I walk on two legs, can actually speak and understand human language, have no whiskers or fur, don't hate water…actually, even though I was born from a human woman and a male cat (I hope you're not asking by this point), I guess I'm more of a "cat girl" from one of those silly shoujo mangas than an actual hybrid; however, since tails are considerably harder to keep conveniently hidden than ears, I separated myself from my extra appendage a long while ago. The fact that my skin is the same color as my ears may also put you off as well…Ugh, I think too hard too much.

After having another mini existential crisis, like I haven't had enough of those today, I walk into the quaint bar in front of me.

The Pallid Pig is like I always remember it. Moody lighting, soft jazz music floating from the stage area, Hampton polishing glasses behind the counter while humming catchy-to-the-point-of-annoyance pop songs...Crazy as it sounds, even though I don't always drink here, the bar is almost like a second home for me.

"Well, look what the cat dragged in!" Hampton greeted me with a big, friendly grin. I elicit a groan, to which the bartender gives a hearty chuckle. If Hampton's humming doesn't annoy you, his puns will. Hell, I've seen people leave because he got too overzealous with his jokes. I still love the big guy, though: he's kinda like the lame dad you wish would stop trying so hard, but you know all he wants is to see you smile. That's how Hampton's always managed his business, being himself and not giving a hoot about what others think.

Unfortunately, I wasn't really in the mood for jokes. I sat down on the velvet seat so I'd be seated directly across from where Hampton was standing.

"What'll it be, Kitten?" That's what Hampton always called me when I first came in. He knew that nickname irritated me, and, on a regular basis, I would've called him out on it, but I didn't really feel like arguing today.

"Haven't decided yet." I said blankly. Old Ham must've caught on to how I was acting, as his demeanor completely shifted with what he said next.

"Kyota, what's the matter? Did I say something wrong?" he asked, his usual grin fading slightly as he tried to gauge how emotional I was. I could tell he was serious since he started using my actual name, Kyota, almost immediately.

"No, no, of course it's not you." I reassured. "I'm just…in a funk, is all."

"Ah, so it's one of those days, huh?"

"Hmhm, you know me too well, Hampton."

The beefy bartender fixed me with a concerned gaze. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Hampton, even though he looks really scary and big on the outset, is actually a really good listener. He used to be a therapist before he became owner of the Pallid Pig, so he's super perceptive about people's emotional problems, not to mention a fantastic confidant and advice-giver. I've found that the best way of coping with my stress is coming here to bounce my drama off of Hampton and see what he has to say, hence why this place is almost like a second home.

"Maybe later," I reply. "I think I need to loosen up a bit first."

"Well, I'll give you a moment to decide on what you want. It'll be on me tonight."

"Hampton, I can't-"

"No buts or can'ts about it, Kitten. You're gonna have a moment to relax and enjoy yourself, whether you like it or not. Now give that menu a once-over for me, all right?" With that, Hampton turns and starts mixing some drinks for the few other customers he has tonight. I take a moment to look over the menu, placing a slender white finger to my lip in concentration. Despite the name, the Pallid Pig actually has quite a few menu items. Granted, a lot of them are American foods like burgers and steaks and fries, but I find charm in the bar serving food that's so radically different from the others in this little Japanese town.

As I peruse the menu, I hear the door's bell jingle as I presume another person walks in. I'm too absorbed in the menu to look at him, but I know it's a man, or a very brawny woman, based on what I see out of the corner of my eye and how much I heard the stool give under the weight of my neighbor.

Suddenly, I feel my beanie being lifted gently off my head as I hear an eerily familiar voice say, "Are you hiding something under that hat, or are too shy to even look at me?"
Oh fuck.

My ears are now on full display, my hat dangling limply above my head as everything clicks.

Fuck.

I turn towards the voice and see a man with black, spiky hair, battle-toned arms, and a grin that could curdle butter in an instant. I know this man. He tried to destroy the earth, and now he lives like it never happened, training my daughter as if she were some sort of animal, and generally eradicating any happiness I do have just by being there.

FUCK.

It's Vegeta.

His shit-eating grin vanishes as he realizes who he's talking to.

"Wha-"

"You-"

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE?!" We both yelp in unison. As if on cue, Hampton returns from mixing the drinks.

"Oh, sorry, am I interrupting something?" he asks innocently, but it's as if he isn't even there. The two of us stare daggers at each other for what seems like an eternity. I'm finally the one to break the silence.

"Excuse me, I'm pretty sure I asked you a question?" I test the waters, seeing if he's in a bitch-and-moan mood (BAMM) tonight.

"I asked you first." He states matter-of-factly.

"Haven't you ever heard of 'ladies first'?"

"No. It sounds stupid." Oh, he's in one of those fucking moods. Then again, when isn't he?

"Never mind though. You'd only know if you were a real man." A verbal kick to the groin causes him to snap his arm out and grab me by the collar, bringing me obscenely close to his face.

"I dare you to say that again knowing I could wipe you off this surface in a millisecond!" When I said I wanted to see if he was in a BAMM tonight, and then realized that that was a stupid test, I meant to say I was testing to see in how bad of a BAMM he was tonight, as he's always on one of the levels of the bitch-o-meter, you just never know which. Suffice it to say that he's a very bitchy person tonight. I let my lips rip back into a snarl as I say, "I said, you are not-"

"Hey, hey, hey! Knock it off you two!" Hampton's bellow calls us both back from the air pocket we'd created separate from everyone else. Vegeta lets go of my shirt and I retreat back to my seat. Of course, Ham isn't done chastising us yet. "Now I don't mind if you two need to have a lover's quarrel, but please refrain from disturbing the other paying customers! Sort yourselves out like people, not animals, all right?"

Given a moment to breathe, the two of us do just that. A few seconds later and the bartender pipes up again. "So what's your name, son?" Hampton, being the guy that he is, always wants to know the names of his customers. "Any creature who can enjoy the value of food and drink is a friend of mine, and a man can never have too many friends," he always says; however, Vegeta is not someone anyone, not even someone as open-minded as Hampton, would want to have as a friend. Reaffirming my criticisms of his character, the stuck-up prince says this:
"Sorry, but I don't give my name to plebeians."

Hampton's eyes dart down for a second, the only evidence of a downcast expression, before he turns to fill a glass for another customer. As soon as his eyes are off us, I turn to Vegeta and say, "Could you not be an ass for like five minutes? You're offending my friend." To which he retorts, "Oh, really? Could you possibly shut your yap for five minutes? You're offending everyone in this bar."

I stand up suddenly, the chair squeaking sadly from the startling amount of force placed upon it in so short a span of time. "Okay, listen, you. I've had enough of your-"

"Ah-HEM!" I'm stopped by the sound of Hampton clearing his throat, deterring me from finishing my rant. I slump back down onto my stool, and take a long, deep breath.

"Look, we both came here for a reason, so there's no point trying to kick each other out when clearly neither of us was winning." I look squarely into his eyes as I try to search for any remnant of his humanity, if there is one. "Can we just put our differences aside for one night, so we don't end up sober and dissatisfied?"

The prince looks at me with a slightly perturbed expression. "How did you know I-"
"I had a hunch." I cut him off. If I'm going to have any small victory against him tonight, at least I didn't let him finish a sentence.

Breathing a sigh, of relief, I assume, Ham comes back over and, pretending like nothing had ever happened, he remarks, "So, have the two lovebirds finished their little squabble?"
For a moment, I forget how to breathe. I feel my face heat up like a sauna, and I'm pretty sure Vegeta's eyes are bulging.

"Kidding, kidding! You two really need to loosen up!" Hampton chuckles like that was the funniest joke in the world. Fuck, I wish he'd warned me of a joke like that, how embarrassing! Then again, the fact that he even caught the self-proclaimed Saiyan prince off-guard does allow me to smirk a bit.

"So, have you both decided on what you want tonight?" he takes out a pen and notepad, even though I know he can remember three different orders off the top of his head at once. Hampton just wants customers to know that he's paying attention…plus, you never know when your memory might slip up.

"Sake, please." I answer exhaustedly. All this back and forth has tired me out.

"I'll take a beer." Vegeta doesn't even glance at the menu. Fucking knew he only wanted to get smashed.

"Beer." Another man in a fancy hat calls out from a few seats down.

"Coming right up!" Hampton addresses all of us and turns back to the bottles lined up along the wall, starting all three of our mixtures.

I clear my throat and try asking my first question again.

"So, why did you come here? If you don't mind my asking." I knew he minded, but I was going to keep my word, dammit, even if I knew he wouldn't and would continue poking and prodding me with insults. He's silent for a moment before he speaks up.

"Stressed." That's all he says.

"About…?"

"Well, your kid is proving to be a nuisance all on her own…" Fucking knew he'd take a shot at Sonara. I'm about to remind him of our unofficial peace treaty, but then he continues, "…but she's nothing compared to that blue-haired woman."

"Bulma?" I mean, I knew she could be a bitch sometimes, but I've learned to tolerate her moody tendencies. Every girl has her bitch mode, as I always say. "What's the deal between you and her, anyway?"

"Well, I ended up making her night sometime last year, and somehow that ended up making her 'pregnant'." He gestured air quotes around the word "pregnant". Wait, if male and female Saiyan organelles work similarly to those of humans, then how does he not know what pregnancy is?...I open my mouth to ask, but then think better of it and shut it. Besides, Vegeta looks like he's actually calming down now that he's talking about it.

"So she tells me that until I start supporting the family, I won't be giving it to her anytime soon." Timely as ever, Hampton comes back over with the beer and sake. I thank him and take a tentative sip from my drink, while Vegeta tips the frosted glass mug back and downs the whole drink in one go. He looks back to me and asks, "Does that answer your question?"

Ignoring the fresh alcohol on his breath, I am about to say yes, but then I think for a moment.

"Wait, why'd you come to drink, then?"

"I just told you, that-"

Suddenly, it all clicks. The way he started talking to me before he realized who he was talking to, the way he frisked my hat off, it seemed like he was-

"You didn't come here to drink your sorrows away." I state, matter-of-factly. His eyes bulge slightly. I guess he didn't expect me to catch on so fast, let alone at all. I turn so my whole body is facing him. Looking him square in the eye, a sneer on my face, I say:

"You only came here to stick yourself in some unsuspecting girl who wouldn't say no, didn't you?"

The air is still for a moment, him startled, and I disgusted. I ponder what to ask him next, though, it's an obvious question. He's an awful person, but would he go…that far?

"You don't…have any roofies on you…do you?"

He looks at me questioningly before replying:

"Is that some form of foreign currency?"
I breathe a heavy sigh of relief that I never realized I'd been holding. Again, Vegeta looks confused, and so I say, "Yes, roofies are…a currency…for some people…" Not a complete lie, but not a complete truth either. I look back to him. He doesn't seem convinced. My eyes cast about, desperate for something to focus on besides him, and then I realize that I've only taken the tiniest sip from my sake. I turn myself back around to the counter. Vegeta seems to have gotten the hint that I wanted to end the conversation, or he just lost interest, and returns to his now-full again mug of beer.

I look up from the dilated fluid in my cup to see Hampton fiddling with a small, darkly-colored bottle of sorts. Recognizing the shape and size, I pipe up and ask,

"Ooh, making a new cologne, are we?" I ask teasingly. Cologne creation is just one of Ham's many hobbies, but he loves making new scents that, according to him, will finally bring in the woman of his dreams. I have yet to meet this woman, so I can never tell if he's being serious. Hampton looks startled and nearly loses his grip on the small container as he turns towards me. He places the bottle on the counter so I can read the label. The bottle is a very deep shade of green glass, so dark that I can't even see the liquid inside. I pick it up and begin to peruse the ingredients.

"Paperwhite Flower, Puncture Vine, Muira puama, Tongkat Ali, water, and…?" I pick up the bottle, not believing what I'm reading. "…Horny goat weed?" I look up from the bottle with a cocked eyebrow to see Ham visibly sweating bullets. I set the bottle back on the counter where he had originally placed it, between Vegeta and I, and lean forward on my elbows, fists holding my chin up.

"Dare I ask what this kind of cologne is meant to do to your dream girl?" I question with a smirk. I only meant to tease him, but Hampton looks downcast as he responds to my question. "It's not…a cologne. At least, not in the traditional sense…"

I cock my head in confusion. A non-traditional cologne? Hampton scans the area, looking right, then left, then back again, before leaning in and whispering further details.

"It's a very, very potent aphrodisiac. A friend of mine has a very…unusual job, and she commissioned me to make it so her occupation would be made easier." Aphrodisiac…I feel I've heard of what that is, but I can't remember for the life of me what it's supposed to do. As if reading my mind, esper that he is, Hampton continues. "Aphrodisiacs do have medicinal properties, but their main use is in stimulating the reproductive organelles of males and females of most species…To put it bluntly, what I have is a bottle of horny juice. Very, very, very powerful horny juice, using the most stimulating of the world's natural ingredients. It could make a woman or a man sexually aroused for days on end!"

"Sounds like it would be a godsend during-ohhhh…" I respond, finally realizing the "occupation" of Hampton's friend.

"Understand? That liquid could be lethal if placed in the wrong hands, so, as the concoctor, I must be vigilant, always keeping an eye on-" He stops midsentence, looking to where he had placed the bottle last. Again, I see sweat pour off him in waves. I follow his gaze to see that-

-The bottle is gone.

"FUCK!" I scream involuntarily, jolting from my seat. Hampton looks to me with a finger pressed to his lips, telling me to keep quiet about something so dangerous. "Oh, sorry. FUCK!" I whisper instead.

Hampton rolls his eyes, and rushes around the counter to where I'm standing. "We need to find it." He murmurs. "Really? No shit!" I whisper back, hysterical about someone with bad intentions making off with the bottle.

"Calm down. It has to be around here somewhere." Hampton mutters, clearly saying that more to himself than to me. "Please, Kyota, help me check behind the counter?"

"Yeah, sure, of course!" I follow him behind the bar, and get down on my hands and knees, carefully tapping the ground with my fingers as I crawl along the dusty floor, hoping my hand will knock against the bottle. Ham crawls to the opposite side of the bar, looking as hard as I am. We must've been on our hands and knees for about two minutes, before Vegeta, who I'd forgotten was even there, speaks up.

"I think I found it." He calls out to me from over the counter. I stand up and see that he's pointing at the floor on his side of the bar. I walk around the counter to find the bottle lying on its side at his feet, undamaged. I scramble to pick it up, and I shake it slightly to make sure there's still liquid. A small sloshing sound reaches my ears as I shake.

"We're good, Hampton!" I exclaim excitedly. Hampton tells me to shush again, but he also looks happy. Vegeta has this look on his face as if to say that he's glad we can both finally shut up.

"Well, from now on, I'm keeping this where no one will even think to look!" Finally reaching a conclusion, Hampton rushes to the back room while making sure he has a firm grip on the bottle. I breathe a sigh of relief.

"Uhm, I never thought I'd say this, but, thank you, Vegeta…" I say while trying to give him the best smile I can.

He doesn't look at me, instead focusing on his third beer mug, as he says, "It was nothing."

I return to my seat next to him and begin finishing off my sake. I start to think that, after listening to his troubles tonight and seeing him help Hampton a little, maybe Vegeta's not as bad as I thought. Sure, he's spoiled, and arrogant, and he's done a lot of awful things…but maybe he can redeem himself. Sonara likes to think that everyone deserves a second chance in life, which may be why she hangs around Vegeta so much: she wants to help him redeem himself and become a better person. I, on the other hand, feel second chances have to be earned, and while Vegeta is nowhere near repenting for all of his sins, he's at least making baby steps.

Suddenly, I feel like all my stress has dissipated after tonight. I don't even feel the need to finish off my bottle of sake, but I do end up downing the rest of the small cup. As I begin to head out, I say good-bye and thank you to Hampton, to which he says, "Don't mention it, Kitten! And don't get too crazy out there!" I laugh, and turn to Vegeta.

"Hey, about what I said earlier…I'm…sorry about that." I apologized. He turned and, surprisingly, responded to my smile with one of his own, more of a smirk than a smile though.

"You don't need to apologize. You've already made it up to me." …Cryptic, until I realize that he's talking about me hearing him out. At least, I think? I feel a bit heated by the sake, and, determined to fly home before the heat wears off, I wave goodbye to the two of them and run out the door. The early autumn breeze feels good on my face as it whips through my long white locks. I don't normally sleep well after going to the Pallid Pig, but I think tonight is gonna be a bit different.