DRAGONBALL Z

DISCLAIMER: I own nothing!

A/N: It has been too long, I'm so very sorry. After I got home from camp… things just got away from me. So I hardly ever updated anything, and always this was at the back of my mind. I hope you can forgive me for leaving you hanging so long, hehe. While I wait for university to start I should be updating more, so that's good, ne?

I also got a job! So, because I know I have to borrow a lot of money this week and intend to pay it back to my parents, I've decided that my SECOND pay check is going straight towards DRAGONBALL Z Season 1, uncut and remastered! So hot!! =D Vegeta FTW.

MY OWN TWO FEET

CHAPTER SIX: INSURANCE

A rather heavy looking blue haired teenager staggered down from the attic of the Capsule Corps. Household and as she staggered to and fro, Bra couldn't help but grimace. This was so degrading. With her hands tucked firmly on the front of her pelvis, her stomach protruded before her in an almost whale like fashion. If her father caught her like this she'd never hear the end of it.

"I've already decided I hate you" she whispered, squeezing her belly tight. A soft mew escaping the stretched designer fabric. Designer fabric – well it had been once, after this the prized red top would resemble something from the Options + section of Target.

Ah, Target, the mass producing clothing retailer from Bra's nightmares. The cyan-haired demi-saiyan hadn't been in one since she was four and never again did she intend to enter one. Not when Prada and Jimmy Choo were easily able to dress her in a much nicer way.

Shaking her head, Bra focused on the task at hand. With each step she was edging closer to her bedroom and thus closer to a secure place where she could wrap her head around the insanity that seemed to be surrounding her. One glittery red heel before the other, she snuck forwards. Gritting her teeth as the unmistakable sound of a door opening behind her echoed through her ears.

"Shit"

"Bollocks"

"Bollocks?" questioned a stationary Bra to her stomach, her eyebrow raised at the tiny face visible from the opening.

The cat, a stone black kitty, gazed up with a little smirk. "I guess the finer points of language and literature are lost on today's teenagers" he laughed, his Majesty then burying his face back down against his granddaughter's body.

In response Bra could only huff, cringing as she realized how damn like her father she was becoming. Her attention back onto the looming footsteps and close of the formerly opened door.

"Bra? You alright sis, kinda look a bit hunched over?" came the gravelly voice of Trunks Briefs behind her, his arms crossed around his chest as he stood in wait. A loose purple jacket folding around sculpted muscles.

Instantly Bra panicked. And, from within her shirt, His Majesty frowned and hissed out at her – what had he done to deserve such a ditzy grandchild? "Gah! Um! PERIOD~!" yelped Bra. Her eyes were wide and, without taking into affect that she was wearing stilettos (which are damned hard to run in), she bolted. Trunks' howl of disgust roaring through the hallway behind her as she went flying into her bedroom. Slamming the door behind her, she stumbled and landed against her bed.

The small body of His Majesty squirming out from beneath her top with all the force he could muster. "That was HORRIBLE!" he gasped, looking over at the panting teenager as if she had just ruined his favourite dinner. Which, he would be happy to admit, was flaked fish in pasta. Preferably with tomatoes and garlic – but he'd have it any other way to boot, he loved fish.

Maybe that's why Clarice had made him into a cat?

"Well what did you expect? I can't just walk out of the attic and march through my house with a talking cat! I mean, it's not like you're the first one I've seen... but still. You're not cool. I can't show you around, I'd get in so much trouble" stuttered the bluette. Fixing her top and hoiking up her breasts, to which the onyx cat hid away his face.

"Back in my day..."

"Back in your day they'd just discovered fire and thought malaria was an exotic dancer! Now just listen here –" Bra lowered a threatening finger, "-WHAT is going on? I am so confused that if I don't get answer than I'll have you fixed!"

The cat's face twitched, his mind racing as he looked about. Everything just seemed so big. Or maybe it was just because he was so small now. Had he not been at least a hundred years old than the old Saiyan King would have been in a terrible state, but his age and the knowledge of his wife's craft led him to a somewhat calmer mood. There was one question on his mind though, "What do you mean by fixed, girl?"

Well, that was that. With an open palm the teenage girl shoved the black moggy off the bed, growling at him as she did so. "You idiot! I thought you were meant to be a king, where the heck are those answers I want!?"

"Well I'd need a question first"

With her hands wrapped tightly around a pillow, Bra eyed the cat lying on the floor. Its soft furry stomach facing the ceiling. Chuckling, His Majesty rolled about; this was fun. Much funner than being a human rolling on the ground – that had ended badly more than once.

Softly Bra sighed, she started slowly, just like she'd seen on those detective shows: "Who are you?"

Puffing out his chest again, His Majesty adorned a look of pride. "King Vegeta of the planet Vegeta, late king of the Saiyan race – and assuming that you are the daughter of my son, Vegeta, than I suppose I am your grandfather"

Bra nodded, "Uh huh... and why are you here?"

"Because you made a deal with my wife" His Majesty King Vegeta whispered, he looked somewhat shamed, as if he knew something horrible.

"I... Yeah, that deal. So it's true? If I collect all those 'insurance policies' of hers than she'll give me some sort of magic – something to fill my life" for a brief moment Bra looked as sullen as her grandfather, "I can't believe I signed something like that... it seems like such a – a – a..."

"A scam?" King Vegeta piped, looking up. "It's a rough deal, sweet. You have another twelve policies to find with only a year to do so..."

"Or what?"

"Or you die. Your life given in exchange for Clarice's" His Majesty's voice was so faint and deep that it was hard to hear it, but every word seemed to imprint on Bra's brain. She would die if she couldn't do this; it was a shockingly high price.

Her parents were going to kill her when they found out.

"T-that's bullshit! She can't do that!!" cried Bra, slipping down onto the floor and pinning the cat against the floor.

"You'll find she can! She couldn't mention it to you, its part of her prison requirements per say, though it was all written in that contract you signed"

"Shit"

"Bollocks"

Bra sat back, this sucked. This really really sucked. Sobbing, she clutched at her knees. "I... My parents are going to absolutely kill me" she said. "I can't tell them this – this is too much. I can't do this..." her voice trailed off, her face disappearing against satin legs.

His Majesty, the former king, watched miserably. He felt so guilty. As if this whole mess was his own damned fault and, as he watched his only granddaughter shed tears of fear and hopelessness, he knew it was his fault. It was his fault that he'd led his race astray, it was his fault that he got meddled up with Frieza, his fault his race were lying in shallow graves... and his fault that the woman he loved most in the world had to trick his own flesh and blood into saving their lives.

"We can do this" he stammered. Waddling forward and placing a soft black paw against Bra's foot, his claws digging into the red of her Prada's. Normally she would have kicked away such a cat, but this was different. Firstly, he was her grandfather. Secondly, she figured she wouldn't need them when she was dead.

"No, no we can't. You –a fucking king- are stuck in the form of a freakin' cat! And I'm a stupid teenage girl who can't even fly and thought that Muslim was a freaking country!" she wailed, hands over her eyes. "How can we find these stupid things!? I have no idea where to even begin – and I CANNOT tell my parents about this, they'd simply go spare!" Bra's eyes were filled with tears. She bit her lip, unable to believe that she was able to cry anymore.

"What is your name?"

Bra's face shot up, her brow furrowed as she watched the hardened face of the cat. "Bra. Bra Briefs"

Tenderly the cat climbed up onto her lap, the same little black paw rising up and patting the bluette on the cheek. Bra's lips pouty and she tried not to squeal as the adorable little cat smiled up at her.

"Bra... I know we can do this. I won't let you die"