DISCLAIMER: I do not own Dragonball Z, any of its nouns (person, place, or thing remember), names, or ideas of storyline (i.e. relationships, etc.) This is the only time I will post this, because they are annoying as hell.

A/N: Second fic I'm starting, I know I should really stick to actually updating the other, but I had this fantastic idea for another story and I had to do it. I'm so evvvvvil. This story is a completely original idea, I haven't read or seen anything near this storyline, and so I'd rather say that I came up with it myself…but hey if you find other fics that are extremely similar point them out to me, because I'd love to see how alike I think to others. I guess I should give you a better plot summary than just the short bit before:

Bulma Briefs, 26, lives in a middle class apartment on the upper West section of Satan City, where most small business owners and workers live. She works as an editor at Timewise Publishing Company, editing books that she doesn't even think should be published, most all of them are extremely graphic and violent often involving women who remind her of herself. She has recently broken up with her boyfriend of three years, Yamcha (Does anyone know of a last name? I doubt it.) Bulma rethinks everything in her life and succumbs deeper into depression at how little she has achieved and how badly she wished her life would change. Her childhood was terrible and she managed to work herself up at the dream of becoming a magazine editor for WON (Women's Only Nation magazine), which is by far one of the best leading magazines in Japan, even if it's written for women. Before Bulma thinks her life can get any worse, she is sued by one of the author's of the books she edited, Pilaf Mai (I totally robbed Emperor Pilaf and his henchman and put them together…mwahahahaha.) He claims that she changed a part of his book and has "substantial" evidence to prove it. Bulma doesn't have the money for a good attorney while Pilaf has plenty and plans to take everything Bulma has for her "injustice to the world of literature." (I'm not going to tell you a lot of this…this is a long ass summary!) About 3 days after the case is over, Pilaf Mai is found dead in the back of his car and one blue hair is found at the scene of the crime. What will happen? Did Bulma do it? Will she go to prison? Am I asking far too many questions? Read on…

Yeahhhh, that's a long ass summary right there. I released a lot of important information about Bulma, not a lot about Vegeta, sorry, but you will read that in the story…it's not that difficult for him. So if you like the idea, read ahead, if you don't…ummm…may I point you in the direction of Dark Hope Assassin?

The Client

She stared out the window aimlessly. Her thoughts of late had centered on nothing. Her daily routines became just that, a reenactment of the previous, not a crème or sugar out of place. The recent break-up from her long-term boyfriend, Yamcha, has a remarkable effect on her. She remembered their last conversation at the local coffee shop around the corner from where her apartment was stationed. He brought her to a public place so she couldn't react as badly as she wanted to upon hearing exactly what he wanted to say. She always thought their relationship was…normal. Now that she thought of it, there was very little passion left, it was used up in the first 2 months and after that it was as if they figured they couldn't get anyone better. He explained to her that she was too boring, that he needed more excitement, an everyday adventure. She didn't know what to think, he certainly wasn't going to find that adventure in West Satan City. She had left the café and picked up two cases of wine before heading back to her apartment. He had given back the key he had and she waited until she got home before she threw it and watched it ricochet off the wall.

The week afterward she had drunk herself to sleep every night, gone through 6 boxes of tissues, and managed to be late to work with a hangover like hell each day. Her boss had approached her wondering when she was planning to get herself back into gear in spite of any loss she might have gone through. He is a sleaseball, as many say, but he hired her on the spot and shares the same hatred for the books he is forced to publish as well, which almost gives her a sense of admiration for the small bald man. She pulled herself together the second week after not receiving a single call from her ex-boyfriend. She realized that she would have to deal with this the harder way, facing reality without alcohol and tears. She never thought she would be the one that was dumped…in her mind it was always the other way around. She didn't think he was much of a thrill either, even the sex they had was insipid, he was a romantic during the beginning and it was like he gave up pathetically. He used to send her sunflowers to her office, even though she hated sunflowers; she appreciated the feeling behind it. She was always a small romantic for the simple rose and throughout her entire life she has never been given one from a member of the male species.

The rain cascaded across the gray plane she stared out of. She remembered choosing this apartment, one of the few who actually has a small view of North Satan City; she could see the lights now even though it wasn't officially dark yet. North Satan City was the grandest, busiest part of the city. The mayor's office, large companies like ImaTECH International, and all members of high-class society are a few of its perks. She didn't have nearly enough money to live even in East Satan City, which was the higher middle class section of the city, mainly filled with workers and families, paradise considering she lived in South Satan City for her entire childhood. She blinked her eyes and rubbed a cool hand over her mouth and sighed. She didn't want to remember it. She looked to the large round clock she had on the wall. 7:32 not late enough to sleep and not early enough to do anything before having to sleep for work in the morning...

Usually at this time of night she would finish whatever work she couldn't in her small office, but she had given up one book in particular: Demonic Undertones. She didn't even know what in the hell the man was thinking when he titled it, but once she started reading she knew it had to actually possess "demonic undertones" to have half of the content of the first chapter! She wasn't one with a strong stomach and most of the books she was paid to edit were disgusting. She never thought that she would be stuck doing this, being forced to read what no normal person would. Her dream had been to become one of the top editors in chief for WON magazine located in North Satan City. It was the top rated women's magazine in all of Japan and she had worked so hard to get an application for a future position in. Unfortunately, she never got a call from them. She knew that there were jobs out there, but women or men of higher caliber than she would take them all.

Bulma Briefs could not help that she was a community college graduate; she didn't have money and she certainly didn't come from it. She was proud to have graduated high school with her attendance record. She missed more school because of personal problems than sick days and her teachers pitied her and usually gave her an extra exam to give her at least a passing grade. She was accepted at South Central Satan Community College with a full-ride because of an outstanding admissions essay. She was aware that her diploma wasn't much, but it was a landslide from her past. She had tried to get jobs with higher pay, but the skeptical managers of every job she applied for questioned her motives because she came from South City, the land of drug-lords and prostitutes, funny that her parents were both. Krillin, her boss now, who begged her to call him by his first name as his last name was unmentionable, hired her because she told him the story of how many places she had been and had no luck, he was impressed by her honesty and holds her in the highest regard considering the rest of his employees are suck-ups. She smiled at how tiny her boss was and how often he used that to his advantage to sneak up on others to check on how they were working.

It certainly wasn't easy going through rejection after rejection and her most recent affected her far worse than any other had. She could get another job possibly, there was always fast food, but she didn't know whether she could attain another man. No one to even pretend that he loved her. What's the point anyway, they're all douche-bags. Assholes. The only way she met Yamcha was through one of those 5-minute Date-a-Thon's, that she was embarrassed to have to be a part of anyway. She had been on dates before, simple ones, usually out to lunch at a small café where the male only had to purchase a small coffee or two. Only then whenever they asked her where she was from did they start to question her receptively. It wasn't even about whether or not she was a prostitute, but if they could score drugs off her or if she had three children or if she had any STD's; they automatically assumed that she was pure trash. One man, Dennys, an Australian who had spent the majority of his life in Japan, whom she will never forget, even asked her how much. Just "How much?" She remembered slapping him and leaving the table, the best slap she had ever given a man. She was proud of that slap. It summed up her whole hatred of people who assume before they recognize the truth about anyone.

The phone rang. She reached on the table beside the window and picked the phone off the hook, rest it between her ear and her shoulder and answered. "Moshi Moshi." There was a sound of a bus hollering past in the background, footsteps of public scenery, she believed she heard fans screaming as well. God I have to stop doing that. There was a muffled response.

"Bulma? Bulma can you hear me?"

"Yeah."

"Hey, um, it's me, Yamcha."

"I know."

"Wha-How? Eh, nevermind. Listen. …I just wanted to apologize…for what I said to you at the café. It…um. It wasn't true."

"What wasn't true? That you dumped me or that I'm boring?"

"Um. I lied. I don't know why, I guess it was because I thought you'd be angry with me or something, but—"

"Honestly, Yamcha, I couldn't hate you more right now if I tried."

"…Okay."

"…."

"Bulma, I signed a contract with the Bandits. They wanted me to start playing this season. I just, with all the money I'd be making—"

"You just thought about all the girls who'd come with it…"

"…Right. It's not as though what we had wasn't special to me, Bulma, it was. I just need more in my life, a new start, and I think that this can work for me."

"…."

"Are you alright with this?"

She sighed aggravatingly, "Of course I'm not alright, Yamcha. I've just been told that alongside of getting dumped because I'm 'bland' or whatever I'm not even fairly attractive enough for you to continue seeing me. Yep, Yamcha, I'm perfectly peachy with it."

"Great, anyway, why don't you watch our game, it starts in a half ho—" She was flabbergasted; he heard nothing she said but her last incredibly sarcastic lines. She hung up the phone. What an asshole! She turned back to the window and rested her forehead against it. Tonight she wouldn't drink and cry in her tub; she would drink and smash anything that reminded her of him in her apartment.

They always say alcohol brings out the worst in people.

A/N: Totally short beginning chapter I know, but whatever. The chapters will get longer as things go on. Um, this isn't going to be like Chapter 6 she finally gets sued, no she's getting sued next chapter. Because I have to bring in the characters, otherwise it's just Bulma…and her sad past life. Awwwww…tear.