"I am the Prince of all Saiyans, one of the strongest beings in the universe, a brutal killer, a proud warrior, and above all, a super saiyan. And you want me to what?"

"I want you to come run some errands with me, like a regular father."

Vegeta cringed. He had decided a good first step in his goal was to confide in someone, so he chose his wife. She was delighted to hear this, and glad to help whenever and however he needed, but that didn't mean she wouldn't exploit it from time to time. She knew that with those two words, the Prince would become putty in her hands. Vegeta was wearing a red T-shirt to show off his muscles, which he had recently become more proud of, and bulma was wearing a simply yellow dress.

"Trunks is over at Goku's house, and we need groceries and some other things.

"Are you sure normal fathers do this? I've never heard of Kak- Goku going to the store."

"Well, Goku isn't quite normal either, but he's not trying to be. Come on, it won't be that bad. I'll even get you lunch while we're out, and I'll try to make it fast."

"Why do I get the feeling that this will be the longest day of my life?"

"Oh look at that, you are smarter than you look."

"What's the problem?"

"You're expecting me to get in that?" Vegeta pointed towards Bulma's car, a relatively large, red, SUV made for style and luxury.

"Yes. Are you going to fly and carry all the groceries back home?"

"You know I could."

"Do you have any idea how many groceries we buy?"

"Please, Bulma, I'm the prince of all saiyans, I can carry anything."

"It's not the strength bit, it's the fact that we'll be carrying literally hundreds of bags home. That's why my dad is bringing his car too." She gestured to Dr. Briefs, who was getting into a car that was practically a monster truck, with a pickup truck's rear.

"Why do we need so much food?" Vegeta grumbled from the passenger seat.

Bulma laughed. "Are you kidding!? Between you and Trunks alone we need at least 60 pounds of food a day, not to mention the 15 or so pounds for dad, mom, and I."

"We better get lots of meat."

"We will."

Vegeta walked up to the automatic door of the local Quick Food-Mart, with Bulma close behind with a cart. As soon as he entered, a jet of cold air pushed his hair down, causing it to break off into odd and ugly shapes like it had a mind of it's own.

"Damn it! Now I look like Ka- Goku! Damn it!" Vegeta said angrily as he attempted to fix his hair using a mirror near the entrance. Bulma was laughing hard, both at his hair and his inability to break the habit of calling Goku by his Saiyan name. The adjustments he would make to his life would be small, she knew, but no less hard.

"Shut it Bulma! I-" Bulma was glaring at him harshly, clearly not okay with his response.

"I love you, Bulma." Vegeta mumbled.

"What was that, dear?"

"I love you, Bulma." Vegeta said exasperated.

"That's better." She smiled as she walked by, leaning on the cart, giving him a quick peck on the the cheek . He was about to follow her when a man in a blue vest and khakis appeared in front of him, holding what looked like a brochure, with a smile that was all too enthusiastic.

"Excuse me sir, would you like a-"

"No thank you, I-"

"But sir, it has several coup-"

"I said-"

"Sir, just a moment of your-"

"NO!" Vegeta yelled with all his rage. His power surged for a moment, not enough to do damage, but enough for the man to feel it. Vegeta walked away looking at the floor, hoping no one noticed as he was trying to keep a low profile. The man just stood there, shocked, eyes the size of dinner plates.

"What took you so long?"

"I was… held up."

"Whatever. Here, take this list." Bulma handed Vegeta a slip of paper. "Go find everything on there and then we'll meet here when you've got it all.

Vegeta walked off, grabbed his own cart and strolled around grumpily. It didn't take long for him to realize he was lost. He was unfamiliar with the layout and traditions of a human store, and was soon wandering around hoping to find something, anything, on his list. Alas, his efforts were in vain. Even with all his time, he was unfamiliar with the names of food, usually just eating whatever was put in front of him without a second thought. Now, it was coming back to haunt him.

"Excuse me sir?" Vegeta turned to face another man in a blue vest and khakis.

"Are you looking for anything in particular?"

"No. No, I'm fine."

"Alright, I'll be around if you need me." He said before walking away. The biggest mental conflict of Vegeta's life began at that moment. Would he swallow his pride and accept the help, or find his way on his own, without the help of a pathetic, high-school dropout, earthling?

"Actually…" The man stopped in his tracks. Vegeta glanced at his nametag.

"Max. I could use a bit of help."

"Great!"

Vegeta hoped above all else that he wouldn't talk.

"So sir, have you ever been to the aquarium? I went the other day and…"

'Damn it.' Vegeta thought

Vegeta expected to hate "Max," but that's not how things went. Despite the awful start, he didn't talk too much. He talked sparingly, and more importantly was highly subservient. He knew his place, did what he was told and seemed to only exist to server, listening to anything Vegeta said intently, not arguing with him about anything; it reminded him of how people used to treat him, how they still should. He proved to be a valuable asset in such an unknown place, and Vegeta did not regret his decision. He was almost done with his list when

Max became a little more talkative, but a little less enthusiastic.

"So, uh, what was your name again? Sorry, I forgot."

"I never gave it to you."

"Oh. Heh. Then, uh, what IS your name?"

"Vegeta."

"Oh. Cool. So uh, listen…"

"Have I stopped?"

"Heheheh, no, no you haven't. Uh, do you have any kids that are around 8 years old?"

'How old is Trunks?' Vegeta thought to himself. '8? Probably 8. I'm sure he's close enough.'

"I do."

"Great! Uh, I mean, well." Max sighed

"Okay, this is a little awkward, but I have a son, who's 8. He's shy and doesn't have any friends. You seemed like a good enough guy and I was wondering if, maybe we could set up a playdate, ya know, so they get to know each other. Best case scenario, they both gain a friend."

Vegeta was about to rebuke him and say all sorts of excuses, when he had a thought. 'What's more normal than being friends with the father of one of your son's friends?' Best of all, this would be a friend that Vegeta made on his own, without Goku, without the Z fighters, and without Bulma

"Sounds great." Vegeta said with a scheming smile that he hadn't worn in a long time.

"Oh hey Vegeta, where have you been?"

"I've been getting your stupid groceries, with some help."

"Hello, ma'am. You are?"

"Bulma, Vegeta's wife."

He extended a hand that she shook.

"So Vegeta, Goku called, and said he needs to talk to you later."

"Great. Just what I need. First though, I have a playdate for Trunks."

"What?"

"Max here has a son that needs a friend, and I thought that Trunks might do him some good." Vegeta winked at her.

"Oh, I see. Great!"

"Yeah, here's my number, so we can schedule it. Anyway, my shift ends about now, so I'll see you two later. Bye!"

Max left and Bulma put her hands on his hips. "What was that wink about?"

"Because, I just made a friend."

"What!? You mean that guy?"

"Yep."

"Well, I'll be honest, Vegeta, I'm impressed."

"Great, now can we go checkout and go home."

"Are you kidding? That was only the first load, we have at least three more."

Vegeta's yell of anguish could be heard for several city blocks.