Last time:

"Well, then," Chi-Chi laughed. "I can't miss this. You're going to eat your words and be hung by Lunaus all in one instant."

"Shut up."

**************************************************

Mari Kimiyama bolted upright in her bed, ignoring her aching back, and stared into the darkened room. Two figures stood near to the curtained window; one distinctly male, and the other she knew at once to be the closest she'd ever come to a grand daughter, her Bulma. Without thinking, the woman of eighty-seven tumbled out of bed and enveloped Bulma into a surprisingly powerful embrace. The male figure was forgotten, and tears streamed from both women's eyes.

"You're home," Mari whispered, clasping her hands on both sides of Bulma's head, trying to see her in the dark. "My baby."

"Yes, Grandmère, I'm home. And I can't think of any reason I should be leaving again. Forgive me for going so suddenly, but my matter was great. I could not even say farewell to my Lord and Lady."

"But what business, grandchild? Where did you go?"

"A dear friend," she whispered, squeezing Goku's arm. Turn on the lights, my friend. "My dearest friend from where I come from. He was ill and on his death bed. I received word and left without packing a bag. I sat by his side for weeks until he finally left this world. Forgive me, please. You know I would never leave unless it was urgent."

"Oh, my Bulma," Mari whispered. "Don't you dare apologize again. Come." She grabbed her wrist, then, to Goku's complete astonishment, grabbed his as well. "Both of you. I'll make us some tea."

"Aren't you going to ask who my friend is?" Bulma inquired, taking a seat at the large, crudely carved wooden table. Empty handmade mugs and scraps of paper were scattered all over the table; Bulma quickly put things in order and pushed the neatened mess to the other end, giving them all enough room.

"Why, he's the mysterious stranger," Grandmère said with a sly smile as she set the kettle on a hook over the open fire pit. "And now I know the full story. He's the gentleman who came with news of your friend back in your homeland. Yet I can't think of why he's still with you." Her tiny black eyes widened and the frail old woman shuffled over to her granddaughter, and whispered in her ear, "But he's going to marry you, isn't he? That's what this man is following you across the country for? He wants a bride." Her small claw-like hand clutched Bulma's shoulder. "Well, I believe he's made the perfect choice. No woman could make a better bride than you, my dear." And then, raising her voice, she said, "Now, sir, what do you take with your tea?"

Goku, still caught up in the words he'd obviously heard, having supreme angelic hearing, faltered and looked to Bulma.

"He takes it same as me, Grandmère. Lemon and raspberry, no sugar."

"No sugar," Mari huffed. "You could use some sugar, my lovely. All bones you are." Then, snapping her fingers in front of Goku's face, she said, "Now, sir, tell me your name. You've been a moving statue since you came here. I want to hear the voice that's locked inside that handsome face of yours."

"My name is Goku, m'lady." His brows twitched in his nervousness. How to continue? He didn't quite know the etiquette here. Such a remote and sheltered part of the world.

You don't have to say another word. Relax. She loves you already.

At hearing those soothing words, though only in his mind, Goku's shoulders lowered and he clasped Bulma's hand beneath the table. Thank you.

"Goku? Why, I don't believe I've ever heard such a name. What country are you from? It hardly sounds to be from here."

"Very far north," Bulma cut in, receiving a scowl from Mari.

"Girl, let the man speak. I love his voice. Deep. How old are you?"

Twenty-five. I'm thirty here.

Thirty!?

Yes. I was twenty when I first came.

"Twenty-five, lady. And my country is called—" Heavania. "—Heavania. Not well known in these parts."

"No, not at all," Grandmère Mari laughed as she backed towards the fire pit to fetch the screaming kettle. "Is it close to where my Bulma grew up? Near Celestine?"

"Yes, Grandmère, very near."

"Oh, girl!" Mari snapped, though she was far from angry, her tight lips pulling into a smile, as she poured hot water into the mugs, careful not to let the homemade tea bags fall in. "What a mouth you have. Never stops for a minute. Let the boy speak. He doesn't talk much, I can tell, with you as his bride-to-be. Lord, Lord…"

"A day's apart," Goku said, catching Mari's attention. She smiled gratefully at him, then narrowed her eyes playfully at Bulma. "We saw each other often as children, my father being a traveling salesman. Went through Celestine at least once a month."

Very good. I didn't even have to tell you. Very believable too.

I hate to lie to this sweet woman.

Yes, well, the shock of who we are would send her straight to the grave. Now, smile. You look sullen.

"You traveled with your father. Oh! How very nice! Here, Goku, child." She grabbed his wrist and took to stirring in the flavoring of his tea, adding a pinch of sugar from the bowl on the table. Bulma rolled her eyes at this; she couldn't recall how many times she'd done that with her. Pinch of sugar. Pinch of cinnamon. Pinch of garlic on her chicken. Ahh, how she would miss Grandmère Mari when she was finally gone.

Don't make her an angel, Lord. Please, leave her as a free soul. She deserves as much. Please, I love her. Please…

Goku immediately tensed, having heard Bulma's prayer to the Father. Mari Kimiyama was such a pure and good soul, perfect criteria to follow when making a human soul into an angel. He sighed deeply and lifted his mug to his lips, silently adding to Bulma's plea. He did not wish for this kind woman to become an angel either. No good could come of it, he reasoned. Angels feel sorrow, human spirits feel eternal bliss.

Give her that bliss, Lord.

"Now, who will take me shopping this afternoon?"

"We both shall," Bulma piped in, ignoring Goku's stunned inaudible gasp.

"Splendid. Finish your tea. I've been itching to get out of this house for days!"

**********************************************************

"She's with a cloaked Guardian Angel!" Chi-Chi gasped, rubbing her eyes as if she were seeing an illusion. As one of the most powerful demons in Hell, she was endowed with the ability to sense Guardian Angels, the only form of angels that can be detected, even when cloaked. She, along with Vegeta, Krillin, Nappa, and 17, was of a select few who possessed the power, for once Lunaus gave it to them, he was weakened for a considerable amount of time. "Vegeta! You didn't tell me she was being guarded!"

"If I knew, Chi, then I wouldn't have come," he grumbled, making sure he himself was cloaked and off the angel's radar.

"And who is that old hag they're with? Vegeta! We have to leave. Now!"

"Shut up, wench. And come on. She knows who I am, and if we shield our minds, the angel won't have the faintest idea of who we are. Besides, we'll have a great advantage if we can find out his name."

"No, I forbid it," Chi-Chi snapped. "And we cannot risk knowingly confronting a Guardian Angel. Their perception of things is far greater than normal angels. Confront her when she is alone, and her angel is not watching."

"Whore," Vegeta muttered, turning away from her.

"Where are you going?"

"To collect souls with 17 while I wait. Are you coming?"

"Bastard…"

**********************************************************

Bulma breathed deeply the smell of the market area: fresh fruits, vegetables, the perfume of the women. Everything about this place she loved. The way the people walked, even, was enough to keep her distracted for hours on end. How delicate and graceful the women walked, and how loud and heavy the men walked. And men in themselves? They were the most confusing of all. Of course there were male and female angels, but they were mostly the same. On Earth, however, the males seemed to dominate the population, and their body structures in themselves were worth a second glance. Bulging muscles and thick, lean necks, their clothes rough and torn most of the time. The only exception on Earth where the Kings, and even then sometimes they sported torn clothing and dirty faces. And she loved every inch…

"Apples!" Grandmère Mari shouted over the crowd, her tiny figure all but hidden in the masses. Bulma managed to snake around a family of eight and purchase a dozen rip red apples from a vendor.

"You the fox the town bin talkin' 'bout?" the vendor said in a gruff, sultry voice. It was a known fact that Bulma of Celestine was the fairest beauty in Grables, the town in which she now resided. "Ki'napped, eh? Taken against ye will at the hands of some roughian?" A smirk spread across his features and he reached out, gently running his fingertips along her naked arm. "Well, lady, I'll protect ye. Just holler and I'll be right there when ye needs…assistance."

"I believe I can handle her," came Goku's words, the voice of a savior. "But thank you, sir, for your concern." He placed some money in the merchants hands, of which Bulma had been kind enough to give him early, then pulled her into the crowd and as far from the apple-vendor as possible. "Are you alright?" Goku asked when they were out of earshot, his fingers tightening on her forearm.

"Goku," Bulma laughed, prying herself free. "I'm fine. I've lived here for ten years. I know how to protect myself." She gave him a quick peck on the cheek, then tugged on his sleeve and made for Mari, who waved at them from the bread wagon. "Besides," she said under her breath as they walked, "I'm just as capable as you, maybe more. I could vanish into thin air and startle that dirty old man into a heart attack if I liked. I'm well taken care of, believe me."

"I only worry because—"

"He's not in disguise," she laughed. She fished out an apple and handed it to him. He took it hesitantly. "Go on. Eat it." When he took a small nibble, she continued. "I can spot a cloaked demon from a mile away."

"Correction," Goku sputtered, spitting out a piece of apple. He didn't like it and handed it back to Bulma, who chuckled lightly and took a bite. "You can spot a weak demon, one of the second ranks or lower, or recently commissioned fallen angels. The First Demon and his closest cohorts are almost as powerful as we are. If any were around, they could spot me in an instant. I'm not very well blended in the Earth population."

"Maybe that's because you're like ten feet tall."

"Bulma, please, I'm being serious."

"Well there's a change. I was wondering when you were going to straighten up and put your work first. Lord knows you goof off too much."

"Bulma!" he snapped, just as they made it to Mari, who stood with her hands on her hips, her eyes narrowed.

"Girl," she sighed. "What are you doing to upset your man? Don't you know it's unladylike to upset your beau in public!"

"Don't you know, Grandmère, that I am not a ladylike lady?" Bulma giggled, not being able to help herself. Mari only huffed and turned away, motioning for her young companions to follow her. She needed flour, she explained, and eggs and poultry. And what was it that Bulma so loved? Ah, yes, fresh green grapes.

***********************************************************

It was late, well past midnight, and Bulma was just now beginning to fall asleep. As demanded, she was housing with her Grandmère that night, though Goku was roomed on the opposite side of the house. It was inappropriate, she said, for a man and woman to share the same bed, or even room, when they were not tied in Holy matrimony. Bulma only reluctantly agreed, even with all she wanted to talk with Goku about.

"Woman!" came a hushed voice, piercing the silence. Bulma shot up in bed and looked toward her window, where a shadowed figure took up most of its space. Without the slightest fear, she approached the window and pulled back the curtains, her caller revealed as the man from three months ago who she somehow could not get out of her head.

"Vegeta," she whispered, propping her elbows on the windowsill and sticking her head out. "What are you doing? Don't you know the hour?" A sly smile crawled onto her face and she tilted her head to the side, her silky locks tumbled like so many aqua waves. "And I thought you were determined never to see me again. What change is here? Have you decided to cooperate with me? I would very much like to spend another day with you."

"Who is that man you were with this afternoon?" he demanded before he could stop himself.

"Why, dear Prince, are you jealous? There is no need. He is but an old friend from my hometown. Still your raging envy, it's a sin you know."

"I envy no man," he snapped, then grabbed at Bulma's arms, easily hoisting her out the window. He held her to him for a moment, as if forgetting his purpose for bringing her outside, or even his purpose for coming, then roughly set her down, as if she carried the plague. "Put this on," he demanded. He peeled off his heavy coat and placed it on her shoulders, careful not to get too close.

"Why?"

"Because, I don't want your townspeople getting up in arms about you walking around in your night things. Just wear the coat, alright?"

"Yes, sir," she laughed. "Though they might note my lack of shoes."

"Forget it. Come." He grabbed her wrist and led her halfway down the dirt road before she could get his attention and pull him to a stop. "What?"

"Vegeta, please, I demand to know where we're going. I've left no note for ma Grandmère incase she wakes in the night, and my other houseguest is extremely protective of me. I can't let you take me a step further."

"You are hardly the saint everyone claims you to be," Vegeta stated simply, his raven black hair appearing almost blue in the moonlight. "A demon-spawn is more like it."

"I bed your pardon," she hissed, curling her tiny hands into fists. "I resent that insult!"

"Most insults are meant to be resented, lady."

"Inconceivable," she muttered, sending a pang through his soul. Lunaus had used the same word to describe him not too long ago. "I—Vegeta, why, who is that beauty that's lurking behind us? Your wife? Does she not trust you to go out at such a late hour?"

"No, no," he laughed, and motioned for a woman with thick, flowing black hair to join them. She hesitantly took a few steps in their direction, stopping abruptly at Vegeta's side. "My servant girl."

"Ve—" Chi-Chi began angrily, though stop short and hung her head. Damn him!

Soon the three beings, all assumed as mortals by the others, found a spot just outside the market place and sat on the cool green grass. Chi-Chi, nervous at best, stayed close to Vegeta, though not so much to suggest she was more than a servant. By the time the sun rose over the horizon, they'd talked themselves in circles, leaving many gaps and unanswered questions.

"Rude wench!" Chi-Chi snarled, clawing angrily at Bulma, who'd only just called her Vegeta's bed servant. For some ten minutes the three had been in a heated argument, of which none could remember the source.

"Vial mistress!" Bulma spat back, her right arm held tightly by Vegeta, who also held one of Chi-Chi's arms.

"Ladies!" he roared. He shoved Chi-Chi several feet away and demanded that she leave at once and he would find her when he needed her. Without another word directed at him, she left, muttering incoherently under her breath. "Saint, saint, saint," he sighed, scratching at his head. "You know I'll never hear the end of it from her. You best cower the next time our paths cross, woman, for your will not like my mood. I am forever banishing your from my thoughts. Good day!"

"Good day to you too!" she hissed after him, her eyes welling with tears. And to think she'd actually though she'd liked that man!

"Who was that man you were just talking with?" Goku asked, his footfalls loud and informative of his presence, long before his words took shape.

"A beast of a man," Bulma sighed, bringing her hands up into her lustrous aqua curls, her fingers raking angrily through them. "And a trophy of a man to the beasts he calls his friends!"

"Bulma," he scolded, glancing quickly over his shoulder, as if the Almighty were there to frown upon His most prized angel. "What makes you say such things?"

"You well know what I mean." She held the same scolding tone with him as he had with her. "These humans…" Again her hands found her hair. "How phenomenal that they are His creatures. Thieves. Murderers. Sinners, all of them. Guilty of the very sins they created for themselves…How is it that something created by Our Father can be this way?"

"You are digging much too deep, my friend," he laughed, pulling her close to him. She almost didn't hear his words, so entranced was she by him, her mortal senses folding under pressure. She pitied humans that they should be doomed to feel so weak in the presence of an angel. "The answers you seek lie closer to the surface."

"Your meaning?" She shook her head.

"Our brothers and sisters of Heaven, of course. What other beings could there be?…Mortals may be fools, a great many of them, but they are ignorant fools."

"Again your meaning throws me," Bulma sighed. "Perhaps it is time I reclaimed my post. For good."

"The angels knew the light and love of God and yet they betrayed him and no longer reside in Heaven. Lunaus, and all those who followed his lead, knew full well what they were doing." He kissed her forehead suddenly, as if he couldn't stand not to any longer. "Think on this: the fallen ones choose to ignore the Father when they know he is there, but mortals…They shall never know Him until they die, and therefore cannot fully realize the final consequences of their actions." He clasped her hands and took a step back, his brilliant eyes sparkling in the sunlight, though Bulma's focus was completely on his words. How intriguing his philosophies were. "Give redemption a chance before you turn your back on them forever. They are but infants to time and lessons, and we are their seniors, their teachers. We have the power to help them," he said, pointing to a beggar man whose pockets were full of stolen fruits and scraps of bread. "So use your remaining time to do that which you can."

And before she could utter a word, he was gone, his retreating steps her answer. This was something she had to do on her own.

"Sir," she finally said, startling the shabby beggar. "Come with me. My masters are kind people. They will give you work and pay." She tossed the few coins she had in her purse at a vendor, then gently grabbed the man's arm and escorted him out of the market, her heart and conscience already feeling lighter.

Perhaps her Guardian Angel friend was right. After all, everyone deserves a second chance.

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---Chapter 5!! Yay! Another one in the bag! Woo! :D Sorry it took so long to update, but I've been really busy lately. Hope everyone liked it!…Makes you wonder what Vegeta REALLY wanted to visit Bulma for. And, hey, don't mind the fight. There was a purpose behind it, and the reason they fought doesn't matter. Don't you worry, I know what I'm doing :P

REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (Reviews=More Chapters)

Next time: Hmm…If only I knew…