Here's the latest chapter! I'm excited with it, I hope you enjoy! ^^

I know that I am posting this so soon after updating, but after reading RomanticLady84's review I really wanted to update twice this week. So this chapter is dedicated to RomanticLady84, I hope you're doing well!

Have a great weekend, everyone! ^^

It felt like it'd been hours that Mrs. Briefs stood sobbing. Trunks was crying along with her. She was honestly freaking him out, and the baby couldn't decide whether he wanted to be cradled, or if he just wanted her to put him back down in the grass so he could scurry away.

"Wo-man!" Vegeta groaned. He'd listened to her wails, and despite everything he'd tried she seemed to only bawl more. It was driving the saiyan to the brink of madness. 'I've broken her.' He thought, a vein throbbing in his forehead. 'I've broken her, and there's no way I'm going to find amicability with Bulma now.'

"Why are you still crying?" He asked, his voice shaking as he fought to control his tone. Mrs. Briefs sniffled. "I just can't stop! You got me feelin' so emotional!"

Emotional?!

Vegeta was perplexed! He hadn't done anything to make her feel emotional! The only thing he was guilty of was letting his thoughts get the best of him and wondering outloud what an addict was! Vegeta took in a deep breath. This blonde woman was doing it - she was managing to break the saiyan, just like he'd broken her! At this point he was beginning to feel completely deranged - he'd do anything just to get her to cease with that infernal weeping. "What do you want, woman?!" Vegeta asked, his right eyebrow twitching slightly.

Mrs. Briefs' heart warmed when she heard him this. It was the most selfless question she could remember ever hearing leave the introverted saiyan's lips. "Me?" She replied, wiping the tears away from her eyes. Vegeta's face was sporting a pale shade of blue as he held his breath to keep from shouting. "Yes, you." He choked.

"Oh! I'd love some help around the house!" She beamed. Vegeta watched her silently as he thought, 'What does this have to do with me?' Unfortunately for him, the housewife took the lack of an objection as a sign of approval. "Oh, V! You really do care, you doll!" Grabbing him by the wrist, she eagerly began to pull him towards to house. Baby Trunks, who was still being held with her other arm, was grimacing to hear his grandmother's voice reach such a high pitch.

Mrs. Briefs was singing along to an old CD of hers as she mended to some stitches of an old dress. There was a cake in the oven, stew boiling on the stove, and around her the house had been cleaned spotless. It'd been a successful day for the housewife, and she felt accomplished as she examined her stitch work. Unfortunately, not everyone in the room was in such a cheerful mood. Vegeta, who sat beside her on the floral couch, was biting his tongue. In his arms was the dress that Mrs. Briefs was mending, and he held it firmly in place for her as she sewed.

"Here, could you hold onto it like this?" Mrs. Briefs instructed, squinting her eyes in concentration as the gave her stitching a closer look. "Be very still, dear... I've gotta fix somethin' real quick..." Vegeta's eyebrows furrowed. He was beginning to feel physically ill.

Mrs. Briefs had used the threat of sobbing and wailing in order to get him to do housework with her. At least, that's how Vegeta felt about it. And, technically, he really hadn't done any house work, but she seemed happy enough as it was. In reality he had stood in the corner and watched as Mrs. Briefs cleaned the dishes, vacuumed the den, threw dinner together, and even rocked Trunks to sleep. Each time that the saiyan attempted to slip away, she'd let out a loud sniffle. "You really must not care about keepin' me company, then!" She would begin to wail. And Vegeta, fighting back the urge to puke, would reluctantly return to the corner he stood in, watching her with crossed arms.

At one point, Mrs. Briefs did try to get the prince to assist her.

"If my planet were still in tact, I would be a KING by now." Vegeta had grunted when Mrs. Briefs waved a feather duster in his face.

"Oh, V? You mean ya don't wanna dust? It's my faa-vorite chore, ya know!"

The saiyan scowled even more before stating "And my favorite pass-time is dismembering those who oppose me."

Mrs. Briefs simply laughed at his response before turning and running to the shelf to start her adventure with the feather duster.

.

Hours.

It'd been hours that this crazy woman held him prisoner! The saiyan had been through a lot in his years - from losing his father, to carrying out death missions by orders of Frieza. But this? This was a challenge on a level he'd never faced before. The day was taking its toll on him, and the saiyan could feel the muscles in his chest trembling from the stress of it all.

"Ya hear, Vegeta? Can you pinch the cloth a little tighter? I gotta make sure this stitch is in tight!" Mrs. Briefs chimed, squealing out loud as she pushed the needle through the fabric.

"Ow!" Vegeta snapped, pulling his hand back. He just couldn't take it anymore! He wanted to be on Bulma's good side, but this was beyond ridiculous. He was starting to crack. "Damnit, blonde woman! This is the fourth time you've poked me with that wretched needle!" It wasn't that the pin necessarily hurt when she prodded him with it, but it was incredibly annoying.

"Oh, did I prick ya again? Sorry, V!" Mrs. Briefs giggled.

"My name is not V!" The enraged saiyan retorted. "I am to be addressed properly! Do you understand?!"

The blonde smiled, continuing with the work she did on the dress. "Just a little more!" She sang. "You're so helpful, Vegeta! My, we make a great team!"

"Your amusement mocks me," He growled, biting his cheek as he felt the needle dig into his skin yet another time. What the hell was WRONG with this woman?! It was as if she'd been in some type of horrible accident that had rendered her completely insane.

It was just then that the front door swung open, and the room was instantly filled with sunlight for a brief second as Bulma stepped inside the house. The first thing that Vegeta heard was Bulma letting out a horrified screech. "What the hell?!" She had her hands on her hips as she peered into the room with shock. "Vegeta?! What are you doing to my Mom?!"

Vegeta didn't want her to see him in this state. It wasn't fair - his mental facilities had been worn away by this blonde woman's behavior. He'd felt like he'd had to resort to becoming a hollow shell of himself in order to avoid responding in a way that would distress the blonde any more than he already had. This wasn't something he'd agreed to in a proper frame of mind!

"There we go! All done!" Mrs. Briefs sang, seemingly oblivious to her daughter in the room. She pulled the dress out of Vegeta's grasp and held it up to admire her work. It was a good thing she'd done this though, because at that exact moment the saiyan was jumping up from the couch and letting out a frustrated yell. "It isn't what it looks like, woman!" He barked.

Bulma crossed her arms with a sneer. "Oh, really? It looked like you were hand sewing with my Mom."

"Oh, and he's so helpful, too!" Mrs. Briefs chimed in.

"I am not!" Vegeta yelled. He'd only been watching, and even then it was because Mrs. Briefs had manipulated him into doing it. He was the victim of circumstance, and that was all! "You take that back, blonde woman!"

"I can't handle this right now, I've had a very long day!" Bulma waved her hand at the two as she shook her head. "I'm going to go take a bath." She turned, starting to make her way for the stairs. "Oh, and Vegeta? Get out of my house, okay?! I will talk to you later."

He'd been held prisoner by the blonde woman for the entire day. He'd endured torture and bitten his tongue just for the chance to speak with Bulma, and she had the nerve to kick him out? If he hadn't been so desperate to escape from the clutches of that mad woman, Vegeta would have been pissed. "I was not sewing, I said!" He barked, but the saiyan raced for the door regardless. Even as the blonde woman jumped to his defense, he didn't care to look back. "Bulma, what a rude thing to say!" Mrs. Briefs was scolding, but Vegeta was already stepping outside as he dashed for his freedom. It was as if he were underwater, trying desperately to make his way out so he could get a breath of air.

The saiyan continued running, leaving the Briefs property behind and making his way into the grove that was located not too far from the house. Safe inside the woods, Vegeta leaned against a tree as he emptied his stomach into the soil below. His limbs were trembling as his body took revenge on him for what he'd subjected it to. Coughing and groaning, he desperately tried to rid his mind of the image of Mrs. Briefs sweeping her floors and demanding that Vegeta stay with her. His stomach lurched in a painful manner each time he thought of Mrs. Briefs calling him V.

"Bulma! She didn't even let me speak with her!" He growled between gasps after his sickness had subsided. "I'll be damned if I went through that type of Hell for no reason!"

But still, the saiyan couldn't bear the thought of subjecting himself to Mrs. Briefs quite yet. "No, there's no damned way." He shivered, shaking his head firmly... "I'll wait until that blonde woman can't get me. Then I am going to see Bulma, whether she wants me to or not."

It was nearly 10 P.M., and Bulma had just put Trunks to bed for the night. She was changing into her sleeping clothes in her room. She was tired and irritable, and ready to just sink into her sheets. Trunks, who was not used to spending the entire day away from his mother, was deeply upset with her for leaving him alone with Mrs. Briefs for so long. If only he could talk, he'd go into detail about the things he'd witnessed that day. The things he'd seen her do to his daddy!

Not only was she irritable from her fatigue, but Bulma was also still feeling cross from the way her mother acted towards her. While the family ate dinner, Mrs. Briefs had given Bulma a relentlessly hard time over how she'd spoken to Vegeta. The saiyan did not return to the house to eat, and while the Bluehead didn't mind this, Mrs. Briefs found it worrisome. "Bulma, I told you that you were bein' too hard on him! He's gonna go hungry!" She'd scolded. "Who cares, Mom?! I told you to stay out of our business!" had been Bulma's reply. "Vegeta's a jerk, and he can fend for himself!"

"But he's just a dear! He was so helpful today!" Mrs. Briefs had insisted. Bulma didn't like hearing that from her mother. The image of Vegeta sitting with her as Mrs. Briefs sewed a dress was one that Bulma desperately wanted to forget. She'd seen the look of pain on his face, but that didn't take away from the fact that he'd actually done it. And the way Mrs. Briefs raved about him was just too much. Something like this was so out of character for him. None of it made any sense at all!

And, to be quite honest, the thought of it was kind of creeping her out...

'Why should I care?' Bulma thought as she crawled into bed and shut off the light. 'I don't care WHAT he does! But... just not sewing dresses with my mom...' The Bluehead fought back a disgusted shiver, her head sinking deeper into the pillow. 'Right, just clear your head, Bulma... Forget about him and go to sleep...'

Sleep hit her in the same way that the ocean would suddenly grow deeper as a tide came in. Her limbs grew heavier with each second while her head began to feel as if it were floating away. No longer was Bulma concerned with how stressed she was with work, how upset she was with Vegeta or her mom, or about how much of a handful Trunks had been that day. Her mind was pleasantly empty, and it acted as a blank slate for her brain to paint a dream on.

She was in that blissful state between the real world and sleep.

'Is this what it feels like to be floating through space?' Bulma found herself wondering as pink hues began to flash before her closed eyes. Her body was sinking deeper into her mattress, and she could feel herself being sucked into a world of purple roses and bright trees. It felt so real when her bare feet touched soft grass as she was placed into her fantasy...

But her eyes abruptly flew open, her body jumping as she quickly woke. She clutched her blanket and listened to a noise that had suddenly woken her up. Feeling a bit unnerved, the quickly realized that it was the sound of something scratching the glass of her window.

I hope you enjoyed! Sorry for the cliffhanger, but the chapter was getting a little long and I thought this would be a good place to end it. I'm excited to post the next update within the next week or so, and I hope you enjoyed this one!