Disclaimer: Is it really necessary for me to write a disclaimer? I mean, this is Fanfiction. net, is it not?

Let's go!

~*~ Hattiakourri ~*~

This is War!

Chapter Two: Peace and Quiet

Bunny's so-called "Clock Garden" was a place of quiet solitude that was rare to find. The tall, pruned hedged blocked out the noise of the surrounding city, and kept prying eyes away, as the beds of well-kept flowers ensconced within traced the path of the roving sun overhead. The garden was one of the most isolated places on the premises, and few people ever ventured into it, making it the perfect sanctuary for a soul bent on uninhibited reflection.

As a test of his senses, Piccolo closed his eyes, feeling around with his enhanced senses to identify the things around him. He could smell the fragrant homemade potpourri Mrs. Briefs was brewing, which smelt heavily of fresh lavender and chamomile harvested from this very garden. The smell was soothing and rich-- Pleasant, even.

He could feel the warm breeze gust over his skin from the west, carrying faint traces of damp ocean mist and clouded pollen from the wooded hills on the seashore.

He then reached out with his most powerful sense, sifting through the many subtle sounds that seemed to flow around him in an unending stream. He could hear the soft clinking of silverware from the bistro on the other side of the avenue, the clinking of ice in a pitcher of freshly-made tea was like a bell chime. The short, metallic chirps of a pair of cardinals, the soft cooing of pigeons, and….

….

What was that noise?

It was a soft sound that was barely audible (even to him), but had snuck its way into his ears, scattering his inner calm away like a cloud of skittish butterflies.

*wheeeeeeeeet*

It was a bit louder now, coming from his left. It was a little intrusive. A little annoying. It sounded vaguely like a bird call, but it was one he was unfamiliar with. He decided to ignore it, and return to his previous exercise.

He tried to trace the pleasant noise of birds again, but as the birds scattered in a flutter of feathers and wing beats. He focused on the sounds of the soft breeze as it whistled through the branches of the trees… and…and it…

…it was…

*wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeet-whooooo*

It was DAMNED ANNOYING!

The high pitch of the whistling noise was starting to bother his sensitive ears. All pretenses at inner peace had vanished as his anger came bubbling to the fore. His ears had begun to twitch, and his antennae thrashed furiously, searching the air currents for the source of the painful racket.

*wheeeeeeeeeeet-whoooooooooooo-tweeeeeee!*

The whistle had picked up in both volume and speed, needling into his ears like a bee sting. He was trying to trace the ki of the scumbag responsible, but the vibration of the horrid noise seemed to jumble his thoughts like a scrambled egg… he felt disjointed and mixed up as the vibrations grew more and more strident.

Suddenly, it stopped. A second of blissful silence had cleared the air and gave him a second of relief…

…But relief was not to be.

*TWEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!*

The horrid noise sounded like a cracking gunshot ripping through his ears, as all of his conscious thought scattered to the wind. Unintelligible babble came spewing out of his mouth as he fought the urge to faint. He could feel warm purple blood trail out of his ears as the worst headache he could imagine tore through his skull.

Mysteriously, all he could think about at that moment were ducks.

Piccolo could hear his aggressor's assault devolve into braying laughter—which was immediately recognizable. The tone, the harsh bark, the sibilant chuckles. There was only one person he knew who sounded like that—

And he was standing right in front of him.

"Vegeta," Piccolo growled, baring his sharp teeth at the insufferable wretch that seemed to find his torture amusing. "I'll kill your sorry ass for this…."

"I have no doubt that you'll try, Babbles!" Vegeta snickered as he meandered away. "Good luck with that!"

An hour later, his ears had stopped ringing and he was finally able to think straight. However, there was a problem. Unlike certain other people, Piccolo had standards and he wasn't as infantile as to participate in a battle of witlessness as Vegeta seemed apt to do…

…but there was another problem. With this particular adversary, refusal to participate would do nothing but make him a more attractive target. Pacifism would get him nowhere—he was obligated to take a stand.

Who knows, maybe if he got the Saiyan particularly well, maybe the little shit would leave him alone. At the very least, he might just get some dirt to hang over his head for future use. Blackmail was a very useful tool for one as cunning as he.

The Saiyan had thought he had won the war, hmm?

He'd show him. He'd give him his comeuppance.

"Vegeta—you brought this on yourself."

With that single declaration, he stalked off toward the residential building. He had a counterattack to plot.

~*~

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While I was originally planning to post chapter three, I had gotten busy and haven't gotten around to editing it to my satisfaction yet. It will be up by Wednesday—cross my heart. : )

~*~ Hats ~*~