Disclaimer: No, I don't own any of these characters.

Dazed

She knew these eyes. They seemed to pierce her soul, but as much as she tried, the young woman couldn't place them. They held her to the spot and enabling only small movements of her head to canvas the terrain.

The room was dark, so dark she could barely make out the wooden walls. The room had sparsely placed tables, which also were shrouded in dingy dark recesses. The darkness of the room was contrasted by the blinding light streaming through a small doorway behind the approaching man. Dust particles danced across the rays as if they were jubilant that the sun had found its way into the room. The rays of sunlight seemed imprisoned in the room, only allowed to shine on a small area, which receded to a sliver as the door's swinging motion came to a stop. She placed her hands on either side of her body against the object her back was plastered against. It felt cool and smooth through her white silk gloves. The object on which she braced herself stopped at the small of her back allowing her to slightly lean further back from the intruder. It must be a bar. I've never been in a bar. Bulma started to feel curious, but quickly remembered the approaching man.

"Well, well. Isn't this a treat?" His voice was low and gruff as he sauntered towards her with even, deliberate strides. Bulma looked at the man horrified, and felt her breath hitch in her throat. The man obviously noticed her reaction, for he gave a wolfish grin. "I guess I'm not as much of a treat for you, ni?" he said in a thick velvety voice.

She shivered and opened her mouth to stammer out, "n..n…no."

He was standing direct in front of her now and he ran his intense eyes down her body and back up till he stopped at her breasts. "Ah, that's too bad, but willing doesn't necessary mean fun." He said in an almost nonchalant way. He then placed his hands on the bar on either side of the woman effectively trapping her.

Bulma felt heat travel up her body in a way she had never experienced before. It tingled in her stomach and thighs, and her chest constricted to a point where it was hard to breath. She squeezed her eyes shut and clenched every muscle in her body in an attempt to gain control of her senses. All the while the man watched as if he were amused by her display. This is not happening, this cannot be happening! She repeated over and over in her head.

She snapped her head up and sent a furious glare towards the dark man in front of her. Her blue eyes flashing with a shocking intensity, she felt she screamed in the domineering voice of the adventurous Bulma she dreamed of being, "Who do you think you are! Back away from me."

Unfortunately, what Bulma heard and what the room heard were somewhat different. She defiantly didn't yell; what came out was a faint command, which the man ignored with pleasure. His lips twisted into a cocky smirk and he leaned into the side of her neck, took a deep breath. There seemed to be a rumbling in his chest and it reverberated all through Bulma's body. She closed her eyes tight again and leaned further back on the bar behind her. He slowly surveyed the view she now bestowed on him and purred in her ear. "A man could get used to this." His breath tickled her ear sending goose bumps all across her body.

She turned her head and focused on a small knot in the wood as his callused hands took their chance to peruse her body.

...

She shot up in bed, breathing hard and clasping her hand to her chest. She tried to piece together her vivid dream. She looked around the room and didn't recognize the furnishings. It was a dream right? Alright Bulma, what do you last remember?

Standing on the back of a train, one hand wrapped around a banister, she waved excitedly to her parents. Her mother intermediately had a handkerchief to her eyes or waving dramatically in the air, while her father watched his only daughter with hands in his pockets and a worried face. It was dangerous to travel to the west, especially as a young girl with only a governess and a bodyguard. But Mr. Briefs knew his daughter, and it was necessary for her to experience life before she settled down. He would have admired the endeavor, if he could put his worry aside.

Back in bed Bulma thought to herself. That's right. I'm on my adventure! It had been a dream, but that man … those eyes. Leaped out of bed and running to her small satchel, she tore out the familiar poster. It was the same piercing eyes. As she remembered the dream, she started to have her first doubts about the ring leader Vegeta being the answer. Looking back down at his likeness, she felt goose bumps began to form on her body and her breathing became labored. Even his picture is scary.