Chapter 6
All-Star

There were no words to explain it. Bulma couldn't report being raped to the authorities even if she wanted to. There was no evidence, nothing. No marks on her body, no DNA of the man in her… She sighed, completing yet another inspection of her body. It was almost a week ago that it happened, and every day she expected some sort of bruise to appear somewhere on her body. But it was as if it never happened. Aside from the horrific memory, she might have thought it hadn't happened at all. Had she dreamed it? Rarely were dreams so frighteningly vivid, and rarely did she wake up from one and actually feel pain where she had been hurt.

With a half-hearted shrug she wrapped her towel around her body and started blow drying her hair. Already it was late morning and she had just gotten out of bed half an hour ago to take a shower. She hadn't been feeling too well with a slight fever and nausea – nothing but side effects from her attempt to break her addiction to the anti-anxiety medication – and there was no reason for her to wake up early since she couldn't go in to work if she wanted to. No, her ban from Capsule Corporation was still in effect. When she finally mustered the courage to tell her parents what happened, she was astonished that they actually supported the board of trustees. More than angry she was hurt that they felt she had to be kicked out of her position in order to regain control of her life. They were relieved that she was going to get some much needed rest. To them, she was being forced to go on vacation. To her, she was being punished for a few honest mistakes.

But then, was that what she needed? To be forced to rest? She had to admit, since the board told her to take a couple weeks off (to put it nicely) she had gotten the best sleep she could remember. Almost ten hours every day, never waking through the night, having no trouble getting to sleep. No more insomnia, no more paranoia, no more sense of dread. Had her intuition been telling her all that time that she was going to be attacked by that man? What was his name – Vegeta? Strangely, her bizarre and hurtful encounter brought her relief. Rest, peace of mind.

Well, peace compared to what she had been experiencing for weeks and months. But now that she knew someone was out there, someone who claimed he owned her, someone who had the gall to rape her and call her his bitch, how could she ever feel safe? Somehow he had gotten through security and kept out of the view of surveillance equipment. Of course that had been one of the first things she wanted to investigate with her newfound free time; she hacked into the security system at headquarters from her home computer to access the security videos from that night. The incident was not recorded by a single camera even though she was sure that at least at some point they had been somewhere in view of one of the many cameras - almost as if they weren't there at all. Strange, but it explained why no one had come to save her, no one had called to report what had happened, no one called to ask for a statement about the crime. It seemed aside from him, Bulma Brief was the only person in the world who knew what happened. That was just as well, she concluded. She didn't want anyone, not even her parents, to know what happened to her. How she had been so weak and helpless. How the most powerful woman in the world had been used by some sort of monster. It was humiliating, degrading…

She shook her head, not wanting to think about it anymore. There were more enjoyable things to occupy her mind. Namely, the baseball game she was going to that day with her father. He decided that since she was off work for a couple weeks and because she needed something to do that would be fun and relaxing, he would take her to see a West City Taitans game. Of course she wasn't much interested in baseball, but he was, and if he would have a good time, Bulma decided she could afford to go with him. Even if baseball wasn't really her kind of entertainment, she could still have fun at the ball park taking in all the sights and sounds, feeding off the energy of the crowd.

When her hair was dry, she pulled it back into a ponytail and went to her bedroom to get dressed. There was no need to dress professionally. But she still couldn't bring herself to dress like a total bum, even if she was sort of out of work and going to a ball game for a fun day with her father. There would still be plenty of media there, and no doubt her presence would attract some attention. Fortunately, the board had kept her leave out of the media, so no one but her family, the board, and maybe some of the highest ranking employees at the company knew what had happened.

After considering her casual wardrobe, most of which she hadn't worn in an extremely long time, she decided on a white Capsule Corporation t-shirt and a pair of yellow shorts. At least she was still representing her company, and she looked good even if she wasn't wearing a fancy dress or a business suit. Honestly, she could pull anything off. She laughed to herself as she checked herself over in the mirror of her vanity. Kami, she was like a new person. The lively sparkle had returned to her azure eyes and the dark circles had all but disappeared. She felt more energized and clear-headed (when she wasn't knocked off her feet with a severe migraine). She was almost coming to understand the board's decision. How had she been functioning before? It was amazing, even to her.

Smiling cheerfully, she slipped on a pair of white sandals and left her room to go downstairs for breakfast. She wasn't surprised that her father was already in his laboratory tinkering around, killing time before they would leave for the baseball game. Her mother was still in the kitchen cleaning up after breakfast, though there was a plate of eggs and bacon laid out on the table for Bulma. Probably not warm anymore. Bulma picked it up and put it in the microwave to reheat it before eating.

"Good morning, dear," Mrs. Brief chirped. "How are you feeling?"

"Good, Mom," Bulma said. She took the plate out of the microwave when it beeped. "I'm almost able to forgive the board for kicking me out. I feel a lot better."

Mrs. Brief chuckled lightly. "I'm glad to hear it, honey."

"Still doesn't mean I'm not going to fire their asses as soon as I get the chance," Bulma clarified as she sat down and started eating.

"Of course, dear," her mother replied. Either she hadn't been listening or she didn't believe her daughter's threat. Bulma was afraid it was the latter. Had she really lost that much respect, even from her parents? She frowned a little, unable to keep from feeling hurt.

Aside from the sounds of Mrs. Brief scouring the skillet she used to fry the eggs and rinsing the dishes after washing them the kitchen was filled with silence. Bulma didn't mind, but she was unfortunately left to stew in her thoughts as the conversation died. She wasn't a little girl anymore, so why was she being treated like one? When she said something she meant it. When someone damaged her pride or image, she always got revenge for it. The board was not exempt from that rule.

Seemingly out of the blue, Mrs. Brief commented, "I do hope you'll settle down a little now that you know your limits. Oh, maybe you'll finally find a nice young man and get married. Wouldn't that be lovely?"

Bulma snorted, nearly choking on her eggs. "As if, Mother! I have no intention of ever getting married. There's no one worthy enough to marry me."

Mrs. Brief merely giggled. "I don't know, dear. I think you'll find somebody if you'd stop shutting yourself off from the world."

The blue-haired heiress didn't bother arguing with her mother. It was an ongoing battle between them. What she didn't want to mention was that the thought of being with a man now thoroughly disgusted her. Whatever desire she may have had at one time to be with a man was disintegrated after her experience with Vegeta. Sex was a horrible, painful thing she wanted no part in, and every man wanted sex more than anything from women, right? No, men were not to be trusted, and she didn't want any sort of intimate relationship with one.

When she finished her breakfast, Bulma carried her plate over to the sink and kissed her mother's cheek. "Thanks for the food, Mom. I'm going to go see what Dad's up to."

"Sure, sweetie."

Bulma walked out of the kitchen and turned down the hall toward her father's laboratory. It wasn't a place she'd gone very often in the past few years, but as soon as she walked in she felt at ease. This was really where her career at Capsule Corporation started, helping her father with his projects, watching other scientists work before the company expanded, before she had her own laboratory in a different area of the compound. She walked down the stairs to the underground lab and spotted her father sitting at a workstation soldering something.

"Hey, Dad," she greeted him once she knew he was aware of her presence. She learned at a young age never to startle him while he was working, both for his safety and to prevent him messing up whatever it was he was doing. "What're you working on?"

Dr. Brief pushed his goggles up on his forehead and wiped his hands on an old, dirty rag. "Nothing important, dear. Just an old servant bot that's been acting up."

"Oh." Bulma was disappointed that he wasn't creating some new invention or improving an old one aside from routine maintenance. In a way she missed working by his side, helping him work out the logistics and calculations for new machines and upgrades to old ones. She learned more from him than she did in all of her schooling. He truly was a genius and an excellent teacher with the hands-on approach to learning. But despite his genius he hadn't been inventing much in recent years; first running the company had taken most of his time, and then when she took over he seemed to lose much of his interest in coming up with new innovations. Maybe he felt he had enough patents under his belt. Maybe he felt obsolete when his daughter took the company from him. Bulma felt a sickening bout of guilt thinking about it. He seemed happy enough to resign and let her take over, but had he really wanted to? Had her desire for power been too great even then? She sighed.

Dr. Brief smiled as he patted her back. "Well, dear, what do you say we go upstairs and have a game of pool?"

What, now she couldn't even help him fix servant bots? Was he purposely pushing her out of his laboratory, excluding her from what little work he still did? She smiled a little and nodded. "Sure, sounds fun."

Father and daughter went upstairs to the recreation room where their pool table was and started a game. It had been so long since they ever played Bulma couldn't even remember when their last game was. Her father was the only person who could challenge her as his knowledge of physics was at least as extensive as hers, so she enjoyed playing with him. Having to fight to stay in the game was much more fun than practically playing by herself. As they played they quipped and bantered and shared memories of years ago when she was still relaxed and he was the easygoing president of Capsule Corporation. Nostalgia wormed its way into Bulma's heart until she was almost sick with it. Why had she forced things to change as quickly as they did? She wasn't even thirty years old yet, why did she feel the need to take over the company? Why did she want this kind of stress? Hell, it nearly killed her and she was too blinded by her drive for power to see it.

Had she sold herself to power? Her thoughts became a distraction that ultimately made her lose the game to her father. Blaming it on being out of practice, she challenged him to another game, this time trying harder to keep her head in the game. But as before her thoughts wandered back to her terrible experience only a week earlier. "You did it for power. I am power." She tried to shake the memory of his words out of her head. It wasn't true. She hadn't done anything for him. Power, yes, but he couldn't be the incarnation of power. That didn't make any sense. There was no such thing as beings living in another realm parallel to her world.

"What's on your mind, Bulma?" Dr. Brief asked when he saw his daughter wasn't paying attention to their game any longer. She had a faraway look in her eyes, the same as she always did when her mind was somewhere else entirely.

She looked at her father blankly for a moment, then her mind cleared and she shrugged casually. "Nothing much. Have you ever heard of saiyans?"

Dr. Brief cocked his head to the side as he thought about that. "No, dear, it doesn't ring a bell. Why, what are saiyans?"

"I'm not sure exactly." She shrugged again, considering the discussion over. "Just a word I heard a few days ago. Might be some sort of mythological creature or something." She laughed a little, weakly.

Her father eyed her suspiciously for a minute before also shrugging and turning their attention back to the pool table. "It's your turn, dear."

"Oh, right." She quickly surveyed the positions of all the remaining balls and decided to try to pocket the nine ball. That done, she continued on to pocket the eleven ball, but she didn't get the three in, so her turn was over.

When it was lunchtime, they went downstairs to eat. By then Bulma was feeling antsy. She wasn't used to spending her days relaxing, lazing about the compound without any sort of work on her mind. No contracts, no meetings, no nothing. If her parents hadn't been so happy to have her home and willing to keep her occupied with activities of various sorts she knew she would have been bored out of her mind. But her mother often had her help with cooking and gardening, and her father would discuss the news with her or debate whether they could prove the laws of physics wrong. Bulma may also have been feeling jittery as a withdrawal symptom since she had been forcing herself to stop drinking caffeinated beverages and taking the anti-anxiety medicine cold turkey. It was painful and unpleasant, but she was determined to break her addiction to both before the two weeks were up. She wanted the board to have nothing to hold against her so she could return to work promptly.

Once they were done with their meal, Bulma and Dr. Brief stood up and prepared to leave for the ball game. Bulma thought it was ridiculous to go so early, but her father insisted they go, so she wasn't going to complain. Mrs. Brief cleared off the table while wishing them to have a good time.

"Will you be home for dinner?" she asked once the dishes were all taken to the sink.

Bulma looked to her father for an answer, so he replied, "I believe so, dear, unless they go into extra innings. But I doubt that will happen. I'll call you if it looks like we'll be late."

"All right," Mrs. Brief said. "Well, try to have fun, Bulma, and relax!"

"I'll try," Bulma answered, grinning as she hugged her mother goodbye. "See you later."

Dr. Brief and Bulma went outside to the driveway, Bulma insisting she would drive them to the ballpark. He relented easily enough as he never much cared for driving anyway. But as she crawled into the driver's seat she couldn't help thinking how pathetic she was needing control even in this situation. She had to be the driver, she had to have the power. How stupid. She groaned, pushing that thought out of her head before it could fully take root. Now what, was she going to be constantly thinking about her power addiction? 'Thanks, Vegeta,' she thought bitterly, 'If power wasn't constantly on my mind before, it is now.' She could practically hear his laughter, that dark, menacing chuckle. Shuddering, she started the engine and pulled out of the driveway.

It took them over half an hour to get to Taitan Stadium since it was on the other side of the city from the Capsule Corporation compound. The parking lot was already filling, which she figured was at least part of the reason her father insisted they arrive so early before the game. She found a parking space soon enough, and surprisingly it wasn't too far out in the boondocks. Before getting out of the car she put on a pair of large white-rimmed sunglasses, wanting to hide her identity a little in case they ran into any reporters. At least it wasn't extremely hot outside, so the walk to the stadium wasn't unbearable. While they were walking together, Bulma and Dr. Brief talked about trivial subjects, such as whether or not to paint the living room a different color or build a storage shed on the compound grounds. Bulma didn't mind the drivel; it was actually a pleasant change from the demands of the company.

Fifteen minutes later they were seated and waiting for the game to start. The two teams, the West City Taitans and the North City Gigantes, were already on the field warming up. It was no surprise to Bulma that they had front-row seats right above the home team's dugout. They were the best seats in the stadium – and the most expensive. Bulma reclined back in her seat and crossed her legs, watching the athletes stretching and jogging lightly in the outfield. There wasn't much to catch her interest.

"Oh. My. Kami! Is that him? Is that Yamcha?" a girl a few rows back screamed until her voice surely broke some sort of record with its high pitch.

Bulma turned to glare at the girl, but the crazed creature was too busy pointing and swooning over one of the players out on the field to notice. Sneering with contempt, Bulma twisted around in her seat and crossed her arms over her chest. What an idiot. And it looked like she was surrounded by equally idiotic and sex-crazed friends. Maybe they were already drunk. Kami, she hoped so, or else they would only get worse through the game.

Chuckling, Dr. Brief patted her hand. "They must be fans of the Taitans' star player."

"Who?"

"Yamcha. Number 00. He's a six-time all-star, which is impressive considering he's only been playing in the major league for six years," Dr. Brief explained.

Bulma looked over to where he was pointing and shrugged. "So what? He doesn't look like anything special to me. He's scrawny and his hair is disgusting."

Dr. Brief laughed outright that time. "Of course, dear."

As the time for the game to start drew closer, the girls behind the Briefs grew increasingly obnoxious, screaming at the top of their lungs and trying desperately to gain the attention of the famous baseball player. Bulma grit her teeth, trying to keep herself from going up there and slapping them silly. Her ears were ringing with the constant shrieks. How could those girls act so foolishly over a man who would likely never give them the time of day? It was ridiculous and she almost felt embarrassed on their behalf.

But when the home team returned to the dugout after their warm-ups, the man wearing number 00 stopped and waved at the group of girls who in turn screamed louder and more fervently. He grinned, almost shyly, and went down into the dugout to wait for the start of the game. Bulma was left stunned. Okay, so he did give them the time of day and he was kind of cute. Nothing to obsess over by any means. She sniffed haughtily and averted her gaze from the dugout.

By then the stadium had almost filled and the roar of the crowd was loud enough to drown out the screeching and shrieking of the rabid pack of hormonal girls. Honestly, they couldn't be any older than college-age. How old was Yamcha? Probably too old for them. Bulma decided not to think about it anymore as the Taitans emerged from the dugout again and took their places on the field. Yamcha was the centerfielder, so he was so far away she couldn't see him clearly. Not that she was that interested in him.

A few minutes later the game started as the first batter stepped up to home plate. After two fouls, the batter hit the ball deep, but not far enough for a homerun. Yamcha caught the ball easily and threw it back to the pitcher. One out. Bulma sighed quietly. So far there wasn't much of anything to get excited about, but she wasn't going to show her boredom since she was really there for her father. Watching him from the corner of her eye, she could see he was enjoying himself, which made her smile fondly. It wasn't the first ball game they'd gone to together, but it was definitely the first in at least ten years. When she started college as a teenager she didn't have much time for fun. She double-majored in business and mechanical engineering as an undergraduate, then went on to earn a master's degree in both business and engineering and a doctorate in engineering. After that she went back to school again for another doctorate in computer science. She started a master's program in mathematics, but she hadn't ever finished it as work at Capsule Corporation became too demanding.

Damn it, there she was thinking of the past and regretting it again. Why hadn't she made more time to spend with her parents? She had always been so obsessed with work she nearly forgot to enjoy life. Actually she had forgotten. She sighed again, this time more audibly, but it was covered by the sound of cheering as the Taitans got the third out.

"What an outstanding play," Dr. Brief commented.

Bulma nodded her agreement. Her eyes may have been on the game, but she hadn't been watching and had no idea what play he was talking about. But then it showed on a huge screen as an instant replay and she saw the Taitans get two outs when the batter struck out and they caught the man on first trying to steal second. "Yeah, that was something."

By then the Taitans were returning to the dugout and Yamcha again waved to the crowd, grinning from ear to ear. Bulma rolled her eyes. Either he liked his fans a whole lot or he was good at faking it. She almost found herself condemning him for it, but then she considered how she was the exact same way. Always working to please the public no matter how little she cared for them.

As the game progressed she found herself becoming more interested in it. Maybe it was the enthusiasm of the crowd infecting her or maybe it really was a particularly interesting game. Either way, by the eighth inning she was cheering along with the rest of them whenever a Taitan made it home or got a Gigante out. Now she understood why Yamcha was such a famous, loved player: he got a home run almost every time he went up to bat, and when he didn't he at least got a double. And as great as he was on the offense, he was also a great defensive player. Definitely all-star material, Bulma had to admit.

At the end of the eighth inning, Yamcha again stopped to wave at the crowd, but Bulma felt like he was looking at her more than anyone else. But why? She wasn't screaming and waving like a schoolgirl. And surely he didn't recognize her. After all, she was still wearing her shades and her clothes weren't exactly a dead giveaway. Did he recognize her father? Unlikely; he had never been in the public eye like she was. By the time she reached the conclusion that he had no idea who she was and probably wasn't eyeing her, he had already disappeared into the dugout. Well, whatever.

The Taitans were leading 13-2 in the top of the ninth. Everyone knew who was going to win, but no one was leaving the stadium early to avoid traffic. The girls behind Bulma and her father were more quiet, their voices probably hoarse and their throats sore from their incessant ululating. The first two batters were struck out and the third was a pop out. Game over.

As the fans around them started standing and filing out of the stadium, Dr. Brief stayed seated, patiently waiting for the crowd to thin out. Bulma didn't blame him. Someone could get crushed to death in that mass of drunken people. They waited at least ten minutes. Some of the more avid fans had gone down to beg for autographs and pictures from the players who were standing in and around the dugout, many of them talking to fans and giving the autographs the people so desperately wanted. Yamcha was swamped with fans more than any of the other players, which wasn't much of a surprise to Bulma.

What did surprise her was when her father stood up and also went down to where there was a small horde of fans fighting to get Yamcha's attention. She ran to catch up with him and grabbed his elbow. "Dad, what are you doing?"

Dr. Brief kept walking, dragging her along with him. "I'm going to get an autograph, dear. I think your mother would like one."

Bulma rolled her eyes. "No she wouldn't, she doesn't even like baseball."

"Well, I'd like one." Dr. Brief continued on despite his daughter's protests. Bulma blushed, but it was mostly covered by her sunglasses. She didn't want to be mixed in with these people. She was above this nonsense. Honestly, a Brief didn't beg for an autograph from some lunk-head athlete!

If Bulma wasn't mistaken, Yamcha seemed purposeful in ignoring her father until he was the last one standing in line waiting for an autograph. They were practically at eye level with him, but a little higher. Yamcha took off his cap when he reached up to shake Dr. Brief's hand. "Hi, there! How you doing?"

"Fine, my boy," Dr. Brief said. "Good game."

"Thank you, sir." Yamcha grinned. Bulma quirked an eyebrow as she crossed her arms. Was this guy for real? She doubted the whiteness of his teeth was. "Would you like an autograph?"

Dr. Brief nodded. "That would be great, if you don't mind. My wife couldn't make it to the game, you see, and she's quite a fan…"

Bulma snorted. What a lie! But at least he was maintaining some dignity by not begging like all the other pitiful fans.

"Sure thing," Yamcha replied cheerfully. He pulled a baseball out of his pocket and held it up. It was the ball he caught in the seventh inning to get the third out. "How about I sign this for her?"

"Wonderful." Dr. Brief waited patiently as Yamcha signed the baseball and handed it to him. Dr. Brief inspected it a second before stuffing it in his pocket. "Thank you."

"No problem. And what about you, Miss? Come to congratulate me on an amazing game?" he asked. She thought he was being sarcastic, or at least cheeky. Did he know she didn't want to be there talking to him?

Bulma sneered. "I would have had you not already congratulated yourself, you pompous prick."

Yamcha's eyes widened comically. "Whoa, that's not what I meant!"

"It came off that way," she snapped back.

Dr. Brief chuckled. "You'll have to forgive my daughter," he said, "She's a little stingy with compliments."

Yamcha laughed with him. "It's not a problem, sir. Well, how about I make it up to you? Would you like your own autograph?"

"Not really," Bulma said.

One of the Taitans was standing close enough to hear the end of their exchange. Laughing, he clapped Yamcha on the back. "Whooey! You sure do have a way with women!"

Bulma scowled at him, and though her eyes were covered by the dark glasses, he backed away and didn't say any more. Her scowl turned into a sneer. "What a jerk."

"He can be," Yamcha agreed, shrugging. "Anyway, I'm sorry if I somehow offended you, Miss."

She rolled her eyes and turned to leave, but he reached up and caught her wrist. She tried to yank her hand away, but he held fast, demanding her attention for one more minute. Finally, she turned back to him and raised an eyebrow high enough to peak over the rim of her sunglasses. "What?"

"Could I at least know your name?"

Growling, she turned away again. "Why would you want my name?"

"So I could know what to call you if I ever see you again."

What was with this guy? He was being very forward with her, and she didn't feel comfortable with it. She was used to men fawning over her, but this was too much. He was so… so sweet about it. Not pushy in an arrogant, self-absorbed way that she was so used to. Whether or not she resolved not to give in to his charm, she found herself crumbling.

"Bulma."

"Bulma?" he asked. Recognition played across his face. "Bulma Brief?"

She nodded once. So he really hadn't known. That was a nice change. Usually guys only went after her when they knew who she was, hoping to leech off her fame and fortune. Of course she was beautiful, but most men were content to sit back and look, not approach her.

He smiled again, flashing his white teeth at her. "Well, it's a pleasure to meet you, Bulma Brief."

"You don't have to be so formal," she told him.

"Sorry." He rubbed the back of his neck, smiling bashfully. "Wow, I really made an ass of myself, didn't I?"

She laughed a little. "Kind of."

"Guess you'd better catch up with your dad."

"Huh?" Bulma looked behind her and saw the receding form of her father several yards away already. Her jaw went slack. Was he hoping this would happen? That sneak! She glowered at his back before turning back to Yamcha. "Yeah, I'd better go. Goodbye."

"Will you come to another game?" he called after her.

She glanced over her shoulder and shrugged, smiling coyly. "If I have time."

Bulma mentally berated herself on the drive home. If I have time? What the hell was that about? She wasn't interested in him! She didn't even care to be friends with him! And even if she did, she didn't have time for friends. Bulma Brief was a lone wolf; she didn't need anyone but her parents. Besides, relationships never worked out for her. Even if Yamcha did act all sweet and shy, she doubted he really was. It was an act. Maybe he was hoping to get her into bed. He'd probably been with dozens of female fans. He was probably a total creep. Still, she couldn't help thinking he seemed genuine, even if she knew better than to believe any famous person could be that real.

She was broken out of her thoughts when Dr. Brief said, "I had a lot of fun today. Maybe we could go to another game."

Had he heard what she said to Yamcha before leaving? She gave a short grunt, not wanting to commit herself to anything. "Maybe."

"Their next series is in West City."

"Oh."

Dr. Brief nodded to himself, his mustache twitching mischievously. "Yes, I think I'll buy us tickets to the next three games. What do you say?"

Bulma groaned, but it was covered by the sound of a loud motorcycle racing past in the lane to their right. She was sure she felt another monumental headache coming on, and this time she wasn't sure she could blame it on withdrawal. "If you want to, Dad."

'Kami, now he's going to think I'm stalking him or something!' Bulma thought. Who went to four games in a row, especially after saying something like If I have time? She felt foolish now. So much for blowing him off nicely. He would probably see her at every single game and think she came just to see him. Well, she certainly wasn't going to see him. She was going to watch the game with her father who just so happened to be an avid Taitans fan. End of story.

A/N: I actually have a Saturday off work! Hooray! So hopefully I can write another chapter of this story because the next chapter's the last one I have finished at this point in time. Thank you for all the kind reviews on the last chapter (and the whole story). I very much appreciate all of them and I hope you'll grace me with more on this chapter. It might help me focus a little better...since finishing my last epic story I've had a hard time concentrating on a single story, so now I have about six in the works and none of them are going anywhere. But I still think I'm going to try to finish this one before I work hard on any of the others.

Beta'd by lilpumpkingirl