Kismet

ChiChi wasn't entirely certain of what was happening. One minute she was struggling to free herself from this creepy doll-like kid's invisible attack, the next she was being helped by a mysterious bald fighter. Admittedly, whenever ChiChi fantasized about being rescued by someone, she'd always pictured him to be, well, taller and with a nose. What she didn't picture him as was needing her help.

She didn't even hesitate to kick the back of the floating kid's head. Somehow, it was easier for the dark-haired princess to find the courage and strength to fight when it was in defense of another. There was still the little issue of her panicking whenever ChiChi herself was the target. As evidenced by the way she blindly flailed her arms in her attempt at protecting herself. She only hoped that when she finally found Master Roshi he'd be able to teach her how to break out of this bad habit. That and how to properly fight.

From the corner of her eye, she saw the braided man drop Bulma onto the sandy ground and she was instantly by the older girl's unconscious body. Her bald rescuer seemed to be faring well against his opponent and a yell from the distance had her glancing to where the three-eyed jerk had just... what had he done? It was as if he summoned the winds with that yell of his!

She blinked, and the next thing she knew this old man with blue hair and a white beard knocked the pink-clad Red Ribboner clear across the desert! Shortly afterwards, the floating kid was sent careening in the same direction. While ChiChi was tempted to see what would become of them, Bulma's condition was more important.

A quick inspection revealed that the blue-haired girl was all right, just knocked out. ChiChi let out a sigh of relief but she tensed when the three (what did the braided man call them?) desert vigilantes crested over a dune and made their way towards her.

"S-stop right there!" she ordered, getting into a stance and positioning herself protectively in front of Bulma. To her surprise, they did as she commanded though the old man studied her curiously, the short bald one looked amused, and the scarred one was downright uncomfortable.

"U-um," the dark-haired girl stammered, suddenly unsure of what to say or do.

"Are either of you hurt, young lady?" the old man asked, his demeanor less intense, his aura non-threatening than when he was fighting against the Red Ribboner.

"Can we talk about this back at camp? You can bet that those three will be back with reinforcements," the scarred one growled, arms folded across his chest and not quite meeting ChiChi's gaze.

"Mind your manners when talking to women," the old man barked and gave the young man a smack upside the head that rang through the desert night.

"Sorry about your house," the short one said, whether to spare himself from a slap or out of genuine concern the sheepish grin on his nose-less face didn't say, "But Yamcha's right, we should probably head back."

"We'll escort you two ladies to our camp," the old man explained kindly. "You'll be safe there."

"At least safer than being out in the open," Yamcha muttered beneath his breath, one hand rubbing the sore spot the old man had struck, the other pulling out a capsule from the pocket of his pants. He decapsulated a desert buggy that even ChiChi could tell had seen better days.

"Why should I trust any of you?" the dark-haired girl demanded, trying to put on a brave front. For all she knew they could only be pretending to be nice.

"Y-you mean to say you don't recognize me?" the old man drooped in disappointment. Yamcha coughed and gestured to his hair. Understanding dawned on the old man and he yanked up at his blue-hued locks until there was a sound, like a suction cup finally yielding its hold on whatever surface it had been planted upon. "Yee-ow! That's some strong glue," the man laughed, smoothing his palm atop his now-bald head. "Try picturing me with sunglasses."

ChiChi only stared blankly.

"Are you telling me your father never kept any of my photographs on display?!"

ChiChi only shook her head.

The old man sighed deeply, "Ah well, he probably didn't have time for much housekeeping since your mother died. But I recognize you well enough, my dear. I'm Master Roshi."

A/N: Sorry that it's a rather short update this time but expect another chapter soon! Reviews are loved and appreciated!