[Chapter Two]

Trunks yawned as he pulled on his shirt. He raked his fingers through his hair as a form of combing it, rubbed the sleep from his eyes, and squinted at himself in the mirror.

The harsh late-morning light beamed in through his window. Trunks knew that in the past such a late waking would have been punished by his father. Trunks was only up so late because of his studies; exams were coming and he was constantly up until midnight with his head in the books.

Dragging his feet, Trunks walked out into the corridor and headed for the kitchen for brunch. He was stopped in his tracks by a large mess of photos scattered all over the floor.

"Odd," Trunks commented, then picked up the photos and placed them back in the drawer they came from.

He thumped down the stairs, and was met yet again with a carpet of dropped photos. He frowned, and picked them up.

"I wonder who's been going through our stuff?" He asked aloud.

He stepped into the kitchen, and found Vegeta picking up another pile of family photos.

"Were we burgled or something?" Trunks asked.

"No." Vegeta placed the photos in a box and put them back in their cupboard.

"Then why have our photos been thrown about the floor?" Trunks asked, confused.

"It's your mother." Vegeta shook his head. "One of her schemes."

"Ah." Trunks nodded, and headed for the panty.

"Ooo, where is it? Where is it? Whereisitwhereisitwhereisit?" Bulma seethed, throwing albums and photos and frames about.

"I know we have one, ChiChi gave it to me! Where did I put it?"

"What are you looking for, hon?" Vegeta asked, sneaking up behind her.

"Vegeta?" Bulma turned around, before going back to searching. "That picture, the one taken at our party... where did I put it?"

"We took lots of photos at the party."

"That one, the one of Gohan and Piccolo. You know, sitting at the pond together? Argh!" Bulma pulled at her hair in frustration.

"The Namek and Kakarot's brat? Isn't that in the sun room?" Vegeta asked.

Bulma grinned. "Thanks Vegeta!"

With that, she grabbed Vegeta, kissed him, and tore off to the sun room.

Vegeta sighed, and began picking up the mess.

Bulma sat in the darkness of her private lab, face lit only but the glow of her computer's monitor. The only sound was the soft whirr of the computer's cooling fans and the chuk-chuk-chuk of her flatbed scanner. Slowly, the image of Piccolo and Gohan appeared on the screen.

"Excellent," she hissed, eyes greedy like a hungry Saiyan.

"What are you doing?" Vegeta demanded, clicking on the lights.

"The light!" Bulma screeched, covering her eyes.

Vegeta marched over and pulled her hands away from her face. "Woman!"

"Vegeta! What did I tell you about interrupting me in the middle of a scheme?" Bulma scolded.

"What are you up to this time?" Vegeta let her hands go.

Bulma hmphed, and turned back to the computer. "If you must know, ChiChi and I made a bet."

"A bet?" Vegeta asked.

"Yes. I get to test my skills as a beautician on Piccolo. If I do well, I win."

"The Namek?" Vegeta grinned. "He's uglier than Recoombe's butt."

"Don't remind me." Bulma glared.

"Atchoo!" Piccolo sneezed. 'Must be getting a cold.'

"So why do you need to scan that particular picture of him?" Vegeta asked. "We've got plenty of others."

"But he's always in the background, and it's only a part of him. This one, you can see most of him." Bulma pointed out. "If I can figure out what needs doing now, I'll be less likely to make a mess of it."

Bulma continued clicking, and typing. A green line surrounded the picture of Piccolo, and cleared the rest of the image.

"Good luck." Vegeta left the lab.

"I'm going to need it." Bulma sighed.