Levy slowly stirred her cup of tea, watching as the inch of sugar desperately trying to settle into the bottom slowly dissolved. The cafe seemed oddly crowded. Especially since they were the only ones there. Both the emptiness and the lack of perceived space were probably due to two of their party giving off distinct "Stay the hell away from me" vibes. Bulma and Levy had taken a table for two in the back corner, leaving the men to sulk, sulk, and look extremely uncomfortable, while Puar eyed the cakes in the display case. Apparently Bulma either hadn't realised or didn't care that the men had no way of effectively communicating on their own if Gajeel didn't have one of those translating headsets.

Not that Gajeel hadn't tried. Keeping one wary eye on Vegeta, he'd mostly turned to Yamcha to say "Nice cat. I got a cat too. Better than yours. Wish he were here, but he had some punks to take care of in Rosetown."

This had resulted in an awkward chuckled and plaintive glance to Vegeta from Yamcha, who wasn't sure whether or not the comment was meant to be hostile, and a derisive snort and plaintive glance to heaven from Vegeta, who didn't care either way.

Put simply, it was tense.

"So," Levy chirped, "tell me about your daughter?"

Bulma patted her pants pocket, looking for a cigarette to complement her coffee. Of all the things she could have forgotten… "Well, there really isn't much to tell. She just… vanished. I mean, my dad's the leading scientific mind where we come from, and I'm quite a genius myself, so there are always all kinds of experiments going on at home, you know. My current theory is that my project and my father's project were somehow placed in too close proximity to one another and BAM interdimensional portal. I'd just taken my eyes off her for a second because my son wanted to show me some new trick he'd learned but she was at that exploring stage… It took a while to figure out where she'd been sent to, and even longer to figure out how to go after her, but here we are. I'm sure I'll know her as soon as I see her though. I am her mother after all. I think I should be able to recognise my own features. They are pretty striking, after all…" Her eyes gave Levy a quick once-over and her brow furrowed.

"How old are you?"

Levy's eyebrows shot up. "Me? I'm eigh… no. Twenty-five. Technically, I'm twenty-five."

The suspicion didn't leave Bulma's eyes.

"I know I don't look it, but it's just because I was frozen in time for a few years. Um… it's probably best not to ask."

Bulma, well-versed in stories best left untold, nodded sagely and sighed. "You do look like I'd pictured her, though… but of course, it wouldn't be that easy, now would it?" She sank down into the bistro chair crossing her left leg over her right and her left arm over her stomach. Her right hand hadn't quite received the memo that there were no cigarettes to be had and was dangling a phantom. "I'm sure you have parents of your own, too. Here I am, off in dreamland. What would your mother say if she knew I was coveting her daughter?" She tittered and took a healthy swig of coffee.

"Um… actually… I don't. I don't have parents."

For a second Levy felt strange to be sharing this information with a woman she had just met. And then she realised that she was actually feeling strange about notfeeling strange. Something about this woman was just welcoming.

"My first memories are of living in the dormitory of the mage-guild Gajeel and I used to belong to. Most of the kids there were orphans too, though, so I just never really thought about it much. Master always said he found me in a cabbage-patch, but I'm sure that's just a figure of speech. I was probably entrusted to his care by some distant relative. I have my friends. Great friends! I don't need a family that didn't need me."

Blinking only partly to stave off tears from burnt tastebuds, Bulma set down her cup and furrowed her brow. "That's a very mature way of looking at it. You're not curious though? I know I am. About my daughter. It's only natural to want to know what your genes are doing."

"Well, I…" Levy was interrupted quite forcefully by Gajeel's body.

Suddenly, her tea was several feet away from her, all over the floor. So was the table. And Bulma. And a large pile of steaming Iron Dragon, working up a snarl.

"Why, you little…"

"Bulma, we have wasted more than enough time here," his projector sneered. "These children have nothing to offer but idle chitchat. I can find Garta myself."

"Vegeta! There was no reason to throw the poor boy across the shop!" The barista seemed to agree with Bulma's summation, nodding mutely from his position of terrified flatness against the wall behind the counter. Or perhaps the frequency at which he was shaking just made it look like he was nodding.

Meanwhile, Gajeel had hoisted himself into a crouch, onto one knee, back upright with a hand on Levy's chair, and a second later, right in Vegeta's face.

"Alright, prick. I can see you have some anger issues. I used to have those too. Sometimes I relapse. I've been playing Good Cop with you for Levy's sake and 'cause I'm on the Council now. Don't make me go Bad Cop. We'll help you find your daughter. We know this place a hell of a lot better than you. So sit back and watch."

"If you think I need the help of an insolent pup like…" Suddenly, there was a lot more space between the two men and Vegeta found himself hissing at Yamcha's profile instead of Gajeel's smug mug.

"Guys, guys, we're cool, right? Cool? Let's relax! The ladies are talking. I mean, what's a little time, Vegeta? Time is sand in the hourglass, time is a construct of the mind, time is… okay, alright, I'll go sit down." The the double-broiler of glares had just torched Yamcha's guts. But not before his words had wandered intot the steel-trap that was Bulma's mind. Her muttering wound through the coffee shop.

"Timetimewhatistimetimetimetimewhatdoestimemeantime'saconstructsoitisn'tnecessarilythesameinanytwodimensionsitcanrunatadifferentpacebedividedintodifferentunitshowdoestimeworkwhatistime…

What time is it?"

A/N: So this has been sitting in my folder 3/4 finished for about a year now. Bad me. I was wondering why I was getting messages about things I thought I'd already addressed.