Disclaimer: I don't feel like being creative. The usual disclaimers apply.

A/N: I wasn't going to post this until at least tomorrow, but after reviewing the first chapter, I realized just how short and awkward it was. So I am posting this in hopes that it will satisfy you for now. Again—my apologies.

A/N2: I don't know whether to be insulted or amused by my first reviewer.

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Chapter 1.5

Bra reached home a few minutes later and attempted to sneak in the back way to try to avoid her mother. She was almost past the kitchen when she heard a voice call from behind her .

"Hold it right there young lady!"

'Drat!!' She should have known better than to trust her luck today. Of course her mother would be in the kitchen right now. With a saiyan and a half-saiyan to feed Bulma would need to get an early start on fixing dinner. Bra clenched her teeth and back-tracked into full view of the kitchen and her mother.

"My goodness you look awful!" Bulma had taken in Bra's wet and bedraggled appearance.

Bra gave a sarcastic smile. "Thanks Mom! That makes me feel so much better!"

"Don't use that tone of voice with me." Bulma replied as she moved closer and began fussing over her daughter. "Now what happened?"

Bra began to tell her of her day, but only got as far as getting caught in the rain ("Well I can see that.") and missing lunch ( now she did get a sympathetic reaction: "No lunch! Oh my poor baby!") before her mother noticed the crumpled piece of paper clutched in her hand.

"What's this?"

Bra gulped. "It's nothing Mom! Really!" she said quickly. A little too quickly.

Bulma grabbed Bra's wrist and wrestled the paper away from her grasp. She frowned as she read it and Bra looked guiltily at the floor. "Nothing is right. That's almost what your scores are." When she turned back around she was all motherly consternation. Bulma's movements as she pushed her daughter into a chair and gave her a towel were quick and irritated. Bra steeled herself for the coming speech. She didn't have long to wait. "Bra, how many times have I told you…."

As it turned out, Bra wasn't far off on her guess. It was almost exactly like her teacher's. Bulma's lecture made Bra feel both better and worse. Worse because she didn't like disappointing her mother, but better because, as Bulma talked, she bustled about the kitchen preparing a hot saiyan-sized meal to satisfy her daughter's growling stomach. By the time Bulma finished talking, the rain had stopped, Bra had finished eating, and her ruined clothes were mostly dry. Bra was dismissed to her room and she trudged up the stairs and flopped down on her bed.