Author's Note: Yay! I've stuck with it this long, I'm so proud of myself~! Anyway, pretty much just more character development, but - *GASP!* - Bra and Goten interact without the facilitation of others in this chapter! Hurrah! I also begin to address pivotal character dramaz that will feature in my fic.

Phrases and words used in the fic:

Ohayo gozaimasu – Good morning! (super polite way to say it)

"Goten-chan hidoi!" – "Terrible Goten!" (I think this is how to say it… if I'm wrong, correct me!)

Gomen / gomen nasai – I'm sorry or I'm very sorry

Choto matte – Wait or wait a second

Enjoy the rest of the chapter! Continue to read and review, por favor!

These Daydreams, Okay!

Chapter 3: What You Got

"…Seems we'll be looking at temperatures upwards in the high nineties," the well-groomed weatherman teased the audiences at home, "and it's likely we'll break into the hundreds around the middle of the week. Back to you, Gogo."

However, tucked safe inside the Briefs Home, the temperature was stationed in the low seventies. It was times like these that Bra worshipped the invention of central air.

The early-afternoon's sun was casting brilliant streams of light into Bra's room, the windows shut tight against the unrelenting heat but her curtains were pushed wide open to welcome in the sun. The light appeared to be seeking her out, the beams touching the backs of her heels as she stood tip-toe in front of her bathroom vanity. The young girl was preoccupied with studying her complexion, peering intently into her pores and pulling at the corners of her eyes.

She was a pretty girl, there was no denying that. Good genetics and careful grooming had seen to Bra's excelling popularity through her school years, sometimes with one gender of her peers over the other. This was only exacerbated by the mounds of cash to which her family had laid claim. Though it wasn't until really the previous year she'd started to transition through the awkward teenage-to-adult stage. Her figure had filled out sometime since graduation, more resembling her mother's build, which satisfied Bra greatly.

She stepped back from the mirror to examine the rest of her figure. Her tiny hands raked through her long blue hair, tossing the strands this way and that. She pulled her locks up and fisted them at the top of her head as she studied her neckline, her shoulders. Dropping her mane, she twisted to the side, running her hands along her hour-glass waist and firm abdomen.

It was like a ritual, this systematic examination of her person. Some days were met with disgust, but most days, like today, were met with pleasure. Bra smiled at herself and canted her head to the side. "You are something else," she praised her reflection, apparently in wonder of her own fortunate looks.

}{

Life in the Son household, however, was not as comfortable as that of the Briefs'. Their home had been built from the ground up, completely natural, and Chi Chi and Goku had always refused anything but the bare necessities when it came to technological advances. Chi Chi's idea of air conditioning consisted of opening all the windows and relying on the gentle wind to cool the family.

Goten squirmed around in his bed, the sheets having long since been kicked off of him. He groaned in agony, his eyes shut tight as the summer's heat radiated into the home. The barest of breezes swept in, and his expression shifted minutely in relief. He squinted against the morning light. With a wide yawn, he turned over on his side, facing the night stand and his alarm clock. It took a moment for him to analyze the positions of the hands, but he eventually recognized the time as somewhere around 10 AM.

Laying there, he just studied the land outside his bedroom window. He sighed forlornly as the trees barely swayed as what could only be considered a waft shook the branches.

He lay back then against his pillows, and he grimaced at the stickiness of perspiration that kept him glued to his bed. Goten rested the back of his hand against his forehead, his body trying to accommodate itself to what little swells of air managed to swoop into his room. With as much effort as he could muster, Goten lifted himself off his sheets, his arms stretching out behind him as he worked to spread his shoulders out of sleep. Finally, he stood with a great yawn, and Goten almost grudgingly exited his room.

Goten immediately made a B-line for the family's bathroom. Once confined, he locked the door behind him, and approached the sink. He frowned at the mass of hair matted atop his head, and he pulled grumpily at a thick branch of it.

From the hall, he heard his mother's cry, "GOOOOOTEEEEEN! You'd better be AWAKE!"

He released the gob of hair and sighed, glowering fiercely at his reflection.

}{

The rumble of the earphones plugged into Bra's ears startled Bulma. The woman looked over at her daughter, who was sprawled out on the living room floor, her arms tucked behind her head. Bulma considered her child thoughtfully as she rested her chin in her hand, observing the young girl swaying her knees together and apart in time with whatever music she was listening to.

Bulma had seen her daughter's face more so now than she had prior to Bra's studying abroad. She was afraid to inquire as to why her daughter had decided to be a homebody since her return, worried that her daughter – who shared her tendency to become explosive when confronted – was troubled by something but was withholding whatever was inside. Bulma focused on whatever lyrics her daughter was mouthing, trying to discern the words, as if they might tell her what was going on inside her head.

At the top of her head, Bra felt a burning sensation. Her eyes opened, and she flickered her gaze up behind her to find her mother staring holes at her. She lifted her fingers up to draw out her earphones, trying her best to smile for her mother's behalf. "Mom? Something wrong?"

With a nervous laugh, Bulma waved her daughter off. "No, nothing! Just … glad you're back," she tried to save face, offering the most motherly smile she could manage. However, with some pangs of anxiety, she realized her daughter was not buying it. With a heavy sigh, Bulma nodded and relented, "I just don't understand what you're doing here?"

Such a query was met with an confused stare on Bra's part. "I… my stuff's here? I don't know what you're getting at—"

"You should be out there!" Bulma gestured emphatically toward the front window that overlooked the busy intersection near their home. "With your friends! You've been home for a week now, sweetheart, and you've only gone shopping with Marron once. I haven't even seen you on the phone!" There was an edge of nervousness creeping into her voice, and Bulma ducked her head to try and regain composure. "I'm just worried that you're…"

The threat of silence indicated that Bulma didn't want to finish, and Bra did not want to invent an answer for her mother. At last, Bra rose up off the carpet, dusting her backside off as she pocketed her mp3 player. "I'm okay, mama," Bra reassured her mother with a gentle smile. "I'm just comfortable being home. I was out and about for five months." She paused, before tilting her head teasingly at her mother. "I can't enjoy a little R and R at home?"

Bulma inspected her daughter from head to toe, and she shook her head. "I just want to know that you're readjusting well. That you're in contact with—"

The bomb was set to detonate. Bra groaned in exasperation, tossing back her head, her long hair sailing. "Mother! Who am I supposed to be in contact with? Most of my friends are in college or busy, and otherwise it's just Marron."

"Well, Pan-chan—" Bulma began.

With a sneer, Bra turned away with her arms folded, her blood boiling as she cut her mother off, "Pan wasn't even here for my coming home party, she doesn't fit into the equation." Her words were terse and coarse, and Bulma felt a pang of sympathy for her daughter. Bra continued snottily, her nose still curled up in essence of her father, "But you know, that's fine! She just wanted to have a reason to, to, to…" The girl struggled with the word, fisting the air desperately to find it, "…UPSTAGE ME! That's right!"

Her mother rested her forehead in her palm. "Bra, that's not it."

"It is!" Bra continued vehemently, her anger beginning to surface. "You know, I've thought a lot about it. I mean, she's supposed to be MY best friend," she pressed her index finger intently against her heart. "She knew when I was coming back! Why ELSE would she leave, if she just didn't want to—"

"Enough."

Vegeta's voice carried down from the foyer, and both women turned to face him. He was staring heavily at his child, his expression unreadable. Bra instantly felt her heart sink down from her throat, and she hung her head under his gaze. When she felt him nearer to her, she looked up, her jaw tight as she fought against her tirade and excuses for it. Instead, he rested a hand on her shoulder, and he bent his head to peck the top of her head.

"That will get you nowhere," he advised his daughter with a narrowed gaze. "Who gives a fuck what that brat is doing? She isn't here; you are. If she chose to leave, we're better off without her."

"Vegeta," Bulma scolded him.

Bra looked between her parents dejectedly. Her father's hand felt like it was the only thing keeping her planted at the moment. As they began to bicker, she felt a throbbing in her ears, and she recognized it as her heartbeat. Bra shifted out from under her father's hold and flashed him a quick, somewhat apologetic, look. "Mom's right, I should probably go out and … get my mind off things," she waved a hand around her temple and tried to laugh out her words.

Moving away from the pair, she started to walk backward to the front door, and she shot her hand out behind her to catch the doorknob. "So, I'm gonna go do some shopping, you know, think about things and find enlightenment between the racks!"

Twisting the knob behind her, Bra tugged the door open and pirouetted into the daylight with a mangled sigh.

}{

Even Goten wished he had never left the shelter of his home. The heat was building in the city, and the citizens wandering about were sweltering under the beat of the sun. He pulled at his collar for a moment to air out himself, and he squinted upward at the sun. Hesitation glimmered in his eyes as he turned to stare at the entrance of the shop before him, before he swallowed hard and pushed the door open.

A bright jingle sounding from overhead heralded Goten's arrival. He savored the moment in which the sweet blast of air conditioning hit him, though a second later he remembered he was in public and proceeded into the shop. It was a men's clothing outlet, albeit some of the décor of the shop begged to differ. Posters of half-naked men with rippling abs – Those are probably airbrushed, he sneered to himself – and fancy leather couches did not particularly appeal to Goten's senses. Neither, for that matter, did the strong men's fragrance that wafted up his nostrils and threatened to overpower him.

However, the stunning brunette behind the counter DID work in the store's favor, Goten observed. He took a moment to appreciate her, applauding the store on what could be their most favorable asset. Self-consciously, Goten lifted a hand to pat at his black tuft of hair and he righted the polo that was fitting snuggly against his own, very real rippling abs. Yeah, he mentally reaffirmed this for himself with a proud grin before he shuffled up to the counter.

Madoka, according to her nametag, beamed brilliantly up at Goten as he approached, and she inclined her head politely. "What can I do for you, sir?"

"Well," Goten began, as charmingly as he possibly could – which was pretty damn charming, if he did say so himself, "I was hoping to inquire about—"

Interrupting his best efforts, Madoka turned to the next entrant into the shop with the same practiced smile and a bright, "Ohayo gozaimasu! If you need any help today, miss, just let us know!"

He felt a little insulted by Madoka's disregard and the fervor with which she greeted the new customer. Curious as to who had drawn the cashier's attention so quickly from him (and did she say 'miss?') Goten turned to glance over his shoulder to spy the young woman who was addressed. In a moment, he spotted her, and her long blue tresses. He was surprised to find her in such a store, and Goten settled for a moment to watch her peruse the shelves of slacks and pause at the stylish mannequins.

Madoka, with her abundant energy, began again to address Goten. "So, what was tha—"

"Choto matte, ne?" Goten hurriedly held up his index finger, spinning away from the counter and taking three wide, though quiet, steps to make it behind Bra. Ever so slowly, he spread his arms, hesitating … hesitating … before he swooped his arms down dramatically and scooped her up by her middle.

Bra emitted sharp squeal at the unexpected intrusion, and she fought for a second against his grasp until she caught his sinister grin in her peripheral. She relaxed and folded into giggles in Goten's arms, her struggling more playful now. "Goten-kun hidoi!" She chided him once he released her, and she twirled to shove at him with a pout on her face. "You know, I was this close," she held up her thumb and index finger with a miniscule amount of space between them, "from knocking you out, you know that?"

He smirked down at her red face, watching the pink slowly drain out of her features. "Yeah, sure," Goten rolled his eyes at her empty threat, landing his hand on the top of her head to ruffle her hair, and she quickly ducked out from under his palm. "You just wait and see what happens when you make threats like that! Someone might take you seriously, and THEN what would we do?"

Not the fan of being mocked, Bra lifted her heel and brought it down with just enough force upon the toes of Goten's shoe. He winced, grimacing in the pinch. "Gomen, gomen nasai! I take it back," he apologized in a short gasp once she twisted her heel down again. Satisfied, Bra retracted her foot, her mouth twisted up in a smug look.

"What are you even doing here, anyway?" She inquired of him then, her eyebrows arched.

Goten couldn't help but laugh bemusedly at her question. "B-chan, this is a men's clothing store. If anyone here needs a second look, it's you."

Bra rolled her eyes and settled her hands on the curve of her waist. "I just meant, this is more like a 'look at me' kind of men's store. This is not a Goten store." Now, she leveled a flat look, and drove her point home, "I mean, since when would you wear anything in here?"

He had to give that to her. He couldn't recall a day that he actually ever wore anything that wasn't bought on sale at some of his favorite-less-pricey-much-more-manly stores, made by his mother, or inherited from his brother and father. In fact, he realized with another look around the store, he wasn't even sure he'd know what to do with some of the accessories here. What would I even need a hemp choker for?

"Well, to be honest, I was gonna get a … y'know …" he gestured toward the cashier, and Bra's only fixed him with a quizzical expression. Goten groaned and rolled his eyes to the ceiling, his face beginning to flush with embarrassment. He muttered under his breath, "….iwasgunnagetnapplication…"

This was evidently not what she was anticipating to hear, he judged from her surprise. Bra leaned back to better inspect Goten's face for any sign of jokery, yet when she found none, her eyebrows rocketed into the strands of blue that hovered over her forehead. "Well, that's …. Interesting."

It wasn't interesting to her at all. If anything, he thought a little more grumpily now, it's probably amusing to her. "Some of us can't just sustain ourselves off of our parents alone, you know?"

He instantly regretted the statement as he watched her blue eyes narrow.

Foot, meet mouth.

"I didn't mean it like that," Goten quickly covered, lifting his hand to rub at his forehead. "I meant it—"

"Exactly the way you said it," Bra finished for him, her arms folding over her chest. Her stance was defensive. She was very reminiscent of her mother like this, Goten observed with now a genuine hint of fear. "Which is funny, since you've been doing it pretty good for the last couple months, from what I've heard."

Goten's guilt was instantly swallowed by his own temper's flare. "What the hell does that mean?"

"Uh, it means that I'm pretty sure that the last job you had was mowing my parents' lawn," Bra sneered.

Fucking. Bitch. Goten gritted his teeth at her tightly folded arms and the way her weight shifted to one leg over the other. However, it painfully occurred to him then, that should they engage further in this war of words, she'd probably win. By a landslide, she would win.

"I don't want to have this conversation," he got out between his teeth, his breaths slow and deep as he tried to calm himself down. "Can I take it back?"

Bra squinted at him, analyzing his posture and face. Defeated. She shrugged and uncrossed her arms, her hands finding their place again on her hips. "You may. And," she tacked on with an extra lift of her eyebrows, "you may also buy me a slushee." Without allowing him the chance to decline, the girl turned and headed for the door out to the street again.

The jingle rang out, and she was waiting outside for him. He stared after her, uncertain and shocked at her demand, before he allowed himself a chuckle as he followed her path outside.