Disclaimer: Dragon Ball Z is owned by the absolute genious Akira Toryama. I do not own these characters, or make any prophet what-so-ever off of this story. I write it out of respect for Akira, and his wonderful characters.
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Chapter Three
The party was going to start in just a few hours. Bra reached into her bag, and withdrew a pair of scissors(I can't beleive that I don't know how to spell that^_^). She cut about three inches off her her blue hair, and tied it back. There was still something missing. "I've got it!", she said, as she ran to her bathroom to get some hair lightener, and a curling iron. Her hair was a little darker than her mother's had been when she was about sixteen.
About an hour later, she was finished. She looked at herself. She had lightened her aqua hair so now it had a younger, and more sky-blue color to it. She left a few whispy bangs in the front, and had the rest tied back in a wavy pony tail. She looked down. Covering her body was a pink dress, with a short, puffy skirt. Right across the chest, in big pink letters it read, "Bulma". She looked at the picture, than back at herself, and indeed, she was an uncanny likeness if her mother at sixteen years old.
"Bra, honey, can I see your secret costume yet?", her mom asked from outside.
"Sure, come on in."
Her mother walked in, and gasped. "What?! This is amazing! I always knew that you inherited my looks, but this...this is unbeleivable! I'm so flattered!", her mother said, hugging her.
"Thanks, mom. So, you think someone who hasn't really looked at either of us in a while might get us comfused?", she asked hopefully.
"If I were thirty years younger, yes. Definately! Well, see you at the party."
"Bye.", Bra said.
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Two hours later...
Yamcha stood on the front step of Capsule Corp. He held twelve red roses. He wasn't sure why he still always bought roses when he came to see Bulma. He guessed it was just out of reflex, and because he wasn't a good enouph cook to bring food. He was sweating, and trembling slightly. "Ok, Yamcha...you can do this. Just take a deep breath.", he said to himself. He had gone through this so many times before. Why was it still so hard? He just thanked Kami that Vegeta wasn't into Public shows of effection. Otherwize, he may have lost it on numerous occasions.
He followed his own advice, and took a long, trembling breath. He was as ready as he would ever be. He rang the doorbell.
"Hello, Yamcha. Come in!", Bulma said, embracing him, and kissing him on the cheek, "Long time, no see."
Why did she still have to do that?! It drove him crazy! "Hi, Bulma." He handed her the roses. "Thanks for inviting me." He managed a smile.
"Thankyou for the roses. They're beautiful." She walked off into the kitchen, and Yamcha let his composure drop back into it's normal look; boredom, and despair. He didn't know how much more of this he could take.
He found himself a seat in the darkest corner, farthest from the other guests. He had arrived late, so everyone else was already there.
Trunks and Marron danced closely in the middle of the room. The newly-weds were known to be deeply in love.
Goku clapped to his wife, who was performing her personal dance style, known throughout the z-sensei as "tai-chi-chi".
Goten stood talking to Paris. 'What's she doing here?', Yamcha wondered, but shook it off. It was none of his business.
Krillin stood on the opposite side of the room. He seemed to be telling jokes to Eighteen, who leaned against a nearby wall, wearing a scowl. Every so often, her lips would twitch to a smile, but would quickly return to normal, much like the way Vegeta always reacted to secretly finding something funny.
Vegeta...he was standing in another corner of the room, stairing down. He seemed to be trying to hide it, but you could tell just by the basic structure of his aura that he was beaming with happiness. He knew that he had Bulma. Yamcha clenched his fists in anger, then just let his arms drop. He suddenly felt more alone than ever. Everyone had somebody but him. Self pitty hung heavily in the depths of his soul.
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Bra walked into the main room. The time had come.
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"Yamcha?", a woman's voice came from above.
He lifted his head, and gasped. "Bulma?!", he said to the girl. It was Bulma; Bulma from a long time ago!
"No, silly, it's me; Bra.", she said with a giggle, "Like my costume?"
He felt his face redden. "Oh, yeah. It's great. How are doing, Bra?"
She pulled a chair over, and sat next to him. "Fine, and you?", she asked.
"Great.", he replied.
She frowned at the look in his eyes. "I know what day this is.", she said, "I'm really sorry. I don't know what my mom's problem is, but she just doesn't seem to remember anymore. This must be so hard on you."
"No. I'me fine.", he said, uncertainly, finding his very forced smile weakening, then melting off his face altogather.
"Yamcha, why did you and my mom break up?", she asked, "I know that it involved cheating, but lately, I've wondered exactly who the cheater was. My mom told me that you cheated on her, and that she went to my father for compfort and got...um..." She blushed. "...visited by the stork."
He sighed. "If I tell you this, you won't tell your mother, right?" She nodded, and he began, "I didn't do it."
"I believe you. What happened?"
The fact that she was so trusting in him was mildly disturbing. Even Goku had been slightly less trusting toward him since the break-up. "Okay. Well, you know that I used to be a well-known martail artist, right?" She nodded again. "I had many fans; many FEMALE fans." He shook his head. "Those ditsy woman had been causing problems in our relationship since we were teenagers. They would scream 'I love you!' outside my bedroom window, and try to rip off my sleavs when I walked outside. It always made your mother insanely jealous. It almost caused the end to our relationship more than once. Well, about a year after Trunks came back, I started noticing a change in Bulma's behavoir. She wasn't as...close. Vegeta also seemed different; testy around me, and Bulma; sometimes he just seemed lonely."
"My dad?!"
"You could tell that he was lonely. It was as plain as day. I almost felt sorry for him a couple of times.
Well, anway, one day Bulma was supposed to come over my house. A minute or two before she came over, my doorbell rang. It was just another one of the blond, ditsy fans. She asked for my autogragh, and I invited her in." When Bra began to give him a strange look, he got defensive. "Nothing happened!"
"Okay.", she said quietly, "I believe you. I've already said that."
"Sorry. I'm just not used to people ya' know...trusting me about this."
"I understand. Please continue.". she said.
"Well, when Bulma showed up, I was getting some paper out of my bedroom, and there was a blond sitting on my couch. I explained the whole situation to her, but she still flipped out. The next thing I knew, I was alone, and Bulma was having Vegeta's son." He lowered his head.
"So you got killed, and by the time you got back there was something silently brewing between your girlfriend and the man who took your life?", she asked sadly.
He nodded. "If your parents found out I told you this, they'd kill me."
"Told her what?", Vegeta asked from above.
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"Nothing.", Bra responded.
"What?!", Vegeta persisted, and Bra got up.
"Nothing!", she yelled, "None of your business!"
"That's it! What has this pervert been telling you?!!!", Vegeta yelled.
"The truth!", Yamcha responded.
"You stay out of this, you pathetic excuse for a weakling!!!"
"No! I won't! I want you to stop yelling at her right now!", Yamcha said. 'He's standing up for me?!'. Bra thought, 'Against my father?!'
"Shut your mouth, you pathetic human! She's my daughter! She's my property! You do not tell me how to treat her!!!", Vegeta yelled.
Her mother ran beside her father. "What's going on here?", she asked.
Yamcha exploded with anger. "You short, arogent, self-centered bastard! You don't deserve her! I can't believe that Bulma chose you over me!!!"
Then her father smirked, and did something that was very rarely seen done by the Saiyan; he rapped his arm around her mother's waist in front of a room full of people, and said, "But she did, didn't she? Go home and play with your cat."
Yamcha opened his mouth, then seemed to be at a loss for wods. He flew out.
"Ha. Weakling's probebly going home to cry.", her father said emotionlesly.
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Chapter Three
The party was going to start in just a few hours. Bra reached into her bag, and withdrew a pair of scissors(I can't beleive that I don't know how to spell that^_^). She cut about three inches off her her blue hair, and tied it back. There was still something missing. "I've got it!", she said, as she ran to her bathroom to get some hair lightener, and a curling iron. Her hair was a little darker than her mother's had been when she was about sixteen.
About an hour later, she was finished. She looked at herself. She had lightened her aqua hair so now it had a younger, and more sky-blue color to it. She left a few whispy bangs in the front, and had the rest tied back in a wavy pony tail. She looked down. Covering her body was a pink dress, with a short, puffy skirt. Right across the chest, in big pink letters it read, "Bulma". She looked at the picture, than back at herself, and indeed, she was an uncanny likeness if her mother at sixteen years old.
"Bra, honey, can I see your secret costume yet?", her mom asked from outside.
"Sure, come on in."
Her mother walked in, and gasped. "What?! This is amazing! I always knew that you inherited my looks, but this...this is unbeleivable! I'm so flattered!", her mother said, hugging her.
"Thanks, mom. So, you think someone who hasn't really looked at either of us in a while might get us comfused?", she asked hopefully.
"If I were thirty years younger, yes. Definately! Well, see you at the party."
"Bye.", Bra said.
-----------------------------------------------------------
Two hours later...
Yamcha stood on the front step of Capsule Corp. He held twelve red roses. He wasn't sure why he still always bought roses when he came to see Bulma. He guessed it was just out of reflex, and because he wasn't a good enouph cook to bring food. He was sweating, and trembling slightly. "Ok, Yamcha...you can do this. Just take a deep breath.", he said to himself. He had gone through this so many times before. Why was it still so hard? He just thanked Kami that Vegeta wasn't into Public shows of effection. Otherwize, he may have lost it on numerous occasions.
He followed his own advice, and took a long, trembling breath. He was as ready as he would ever be. He rang the doorbell.
"Hello, Yamcha. Come in!", Bulma said, embracing him, and kissing him on the cheek, "Long time, no see."
Why did she still have to do that?! It drove him crazy! "Hi, Bulma." He handed her the roses. "Thanks for inviting me." He managed a smile.
"Thankyou for the roses. They're beautiful." She walked off into the kitchen, and Yamcha let his composure drop back into it's normal look; boredom, and despair. He didn't know how much more of this he could take.
He found himself a seat in the darkest corner, farthest from the other guests. He had arrived late, so everyone else was already there.
Trunks and Marron danced closely in the middle of the room. The newly-weds were known to be deeply in love.
Goku clapped to his wife, who was performing her personal dance style, known throughout the z-sensei as "tai-chi-chi".
Goten stood talking to Paris. 'What's she doing here?', Yamcha wondered, but shook it off. It was none of his business.
Krillin stood on the opposite side of the room. He seemed to be telling jokes to Eighteen, who leaned against a nearby wall, wearing a scowl. Every so often, her lips would twitch to a smile, but would quickly return to normal, much like the way Vegeta always reacted to secretly finding something funny.
Vegeta...he was standing in another corner of the room, stairing down. He seemed to be trying to hide it, but you could tell just by the basic structure of his aura that he was beaming with happiness. He knew that he had Bulma. Yamcha clenched his fists in anger, then just let his arms drop. He suddenly felt more alone than ever. Everyone had somebody but him. Self pitty hung heavily in the depths of his soul.
---------------------------------------------------------
Bra walked into the main room. The time had come.
---------------------------------------------------------
"Yamcha?", a woman's voice came from above.
He lifted his head, and gasped. "Bulma?!", he said to the girl. It was Bulma; Bulma from a long time ago!
"No, silly, it's me; Bra.", she said with a giggle, "Like my costume?"
He felt his face redden. "Oh, yeah. It's great. How are doing, Bra?"
She pulled a chair over, and sat next to him. "Fine, and you?", she asked.
"Great.", he replied.
She frowned at the look in his eyes. "I know what day this is.", she said, "I'm really sorry. I don't know what my mom's problem is, but she just doesn't seem to remember anymore. This must be so hard on you."
"No. I'me fine.", he said, uncertainly, finding his very forced smile weakening, then melting off his face altogather.
"Yamcha, why did you and my mom break up?", she asked, "I know that it involved cheating, but lately, I've wondered exactly who the cheater was. My mom told me that you cheated on her, and that she went to my father for compfort and got...um..." She blushed. "...visited by the stork."
He sighed. "If I tell you this, you won't tell your mother, right?" She nodded, and he began, "I didn't do it."
"I believe you. What happened?"
The fact that she was so trusting in him was mildly disturbing. Even Goku had been slightly less trusting toward him since the break-up. "Okay. Well, you know that I used to be a well-known martail artist, right?" She nodded again. "I had many fans; many FEMALE fans." He shook his head. "Those ditsy woman had been causing problems in our relationship since we were teenagers. They would scream 'I love you!' outside my bedroom window, and try to rip off my sleavs when I walked outside. It always made your mother insanely jealous. It almost caused the end to our relationship more than once. Well, about a year after Trunks came back, I started noticing a change in Bulma's behavoir. She wasn't as...close. Vegeta also seemed different; testy around me, and Bulma; sometimes he just seemed lonely."
"My dad?!"
"You could tell that he was lonely. It was as plain as day. I almost felt sorry for him a couple of times.
Well, anway, one day Bulma was supposed to come over my house. A minute or two before she came over, my doorbell rang. It was just another one of the blond, ditsy fans. She asked for my autogragh, and I invited her in." When Bra began to give him a strange look, he got defensive. "Nothing happened!"
"Okay.", she said quietly, "I believe you. I've already said that."
"Sorry. I'm just not used to people ya' know...trusting me about this."
"I understand. Please continue.". she said.
"Well, when Bulma showed up, I was getting some paper out of my bedroom, and there was a blond sitting on my couch. I explained the whole situation to her, but she still flipped out. The next thing I knew, I was alone, and Bulma was having Vegeta's son." He lowered his head.
"So you got killed, and by the time you got back there was something silently brewing between your girlfriend and the man who took your life?", she asked sadly.
He nodded. "If your parents found out I told you this, they'd kill me."
"Told her what?", Vegeta asked from above.
----------------------------------------------------------
"Nothing.", Bra responded.
"What?!", Vegeta persisted, and Bra got up.
"Nothing!", she yelled, "None of your business!"
"That's it! What has this pervert been telling you?!!!", Vegeta yelled.
"The truth!", Yamcha responded.
"You stay out of this, you pathetic excuse for a weakling!!!"
"No! I won't! I want you to stop yelling at her right now!", Yamcha said. 'He's standing up for me?!'. Bra thought, 'Against my father?!'
"Shut your mouth, you pathetic human! She's my daughter! She's my property! You do not tell me how to treat her!!!", Vegeta yelled.
Her mother ran beside her father. "What's going on here?", she asked.
Yamcha exploded with anger. "You short, arogent, self-centered bastard! You don't deserve her! I can't believe that Bulma chose you over me!!!"
Then her father smirked, and did something that was very rarely seen done by the Saiyan; he rapped his arm around her mother's waist in front of a room full of people, and said, "But she did, didn't she? Go home and play with your cat."
Yamcha opened his mouth, then seemed to be at a loss for wods. He flew out.
"Ha. Weakling's probebly going home to cry.", her father said emotionlesly.