Vegeta and Bulla puttered through the cool air. He was quiet with his tight-lipped frown. Bulla lingered at his side. His dark eyes pierced her to the core; a single brow quirked, a little surprised at his stern glance. She was inpatient and so was he.

At least I get it honestly, she thought.

"Dad, what-"

"Bulla, I'm escorting you to your grandmother's shop, then you're going home," he interrupted her.

"Thanks, but why are you pissed, exactly?"

"Do not speak to me in such tone, girl," he said.

Bulla paused and her eyes fell to the buildings below, "I'm sorry," she said.

"You didn't bother to inform me of your where abouts. Why your mother bothered to give you a phone is beyond me," he offered.

Bulla's eyes reddened at his raised voice. It was unfamiliar and shocking like a razorblade scraping her eardrums.

"Daddy, they threw me a surprise party. I didn't know. Besides we just hung out and ate pizza."

"Why didn't you bother to tell me and save me the embarrassment of hunting this city for you?"

"Em- embarrassment?"

Vegeta looked at his suddenly quiet daughter. Her eyes dribbled a trail of tears into the cool air. She scrubbed her eyes and cheeks with her forearms, leaving angry red streaks on her face.

"Eschalot, you're usually home well before dark, and you know it. I went to that damn school, the shop, Kakarot's house, then to Gohan's dwelling. Finally, someone on his mudball had a clue where you were," he complained.

Silence fell over them again. They tapped down in front of the tiny one-story shop. Bulla trotted up to the sloping brick building. She stepped under the orange awning that covered the umbrella tables. She plucked her fuzzy white keychain from her bag and jammed the key into the lock.

"Give it here," Vegeta cleared his throat and pointed to her bag.

Bulla tossed the crochet bag at him and slipped behind the glass door. Vegeta looked up at the shop sign.

'Bunny's Vines and Finds', he read to himself.

He rolled his eyes at the nibbling rabbit silhouettes frosted onto the full-length glass windows. Charming honey suckle vines swirled around the mirrored rabbits, drawing potential on-lookers' eyes toward the door.

Only Earthlings would throw money at a varmint rodent, chewing up weeks of hard labor, he thought.

Vegeta paced to the side of the building, leaning against the wall. He hated to admit it, but people watching was of some interest- a habit picked up from escorting Bulma to countless science expos and conferences.

Bulla plopped Poindexter on the countertop. She breezed through the barista station checking the outlets and brewing contraptions. She inspected the countertops and tables for coffee grounds and grime. She strolled to the back and poked her head into the nursery fridges. The rhythmic sounds of her own footsteps slowed her heart rate. The smell of coffee grounds and dirt melted the lines of her frown. She strummed and pruned silky cool leaves and petals with her fingers. Her brows unfurrowed and her olive skin lightened to its creamy pale undertone.

She meticulously turned the sink knobs until the spurting water was lukewarm. Bulla lugged the water hose over her shoulder. Her mind became quiet, and a smile rounded her cheeks at the tender green shoots and blooming petals. A blue shadow shifted in the corner of her eye. Blood gnawed at her cheeks, and she leaned on her cart to recover from the startle.

"That's your reflection, retard," she griped at the girl in the window.

It was a face she knew all too well- a face that was disappointing. Bulla thought of a big blue stork when she looped at herself. She saw long gangly legs and a rectangular shape that was a far cry from the drop-dead- gorgeous looks of her mother.

I'm gawky at best, she thought.

Her heart ached at the thought of her brother's well-proportioned frame and complementary colors. Her hair and eyes were a subtle, sleepy shade of blue that perplexed the eye. She knew her washed out olive skin would sallow as she got older. The common questions flooded her head: Where are you from? Are you an exchange student?

"Nope, I'm biracial," She recited with an eyeroll.

Her facial features were sharp, edgy and drew unwanted attention. She thought long and hard about the word 'attention' and realized it was inaccurate. She stood up straight as she half-heartedly pushed a broom across the floor.

"Morbid curiosity is more like it," She groaned.

She raised her eyes to her reflection once again and muttered to Kami and herself, "Isn't it bad enough to be the only boring Brief, and the weakest Saiyan ever born, AND the unattractive daughter of millionaire genius, Bulma Briefs."

Vegeta turned his ear toward footsteps on the sidewalk. A man quietly wandered down the sidewalk with his hands shoved into his trouser pockets. He stopped at the shop glass, cupping his hands around his face, creating his own private window to peep inside.

"Get lost jack ass," Vegeta said.

The man whipped toward Vegeta's grating voice. He dropped his hands by his side in startled shock. His faceless silhouette was glued in place. He blended in with the mannequins lining the rowed shop windows flashing in the moonlight.

"Sorry," the man called, "I just wanted a coffee. I saw someone inside. I didn't know that the joint was closed."

Vegeta watched him cram his fists into his pocket again. Vegeta refused to break sight with the lingering figure. Vegeta eased into a chair beneath a white umbrella. He crossed his arms over his chest and propped his leg over his other knee. An uneasy pit formed in Vegeta's gut. The feeling was familiar and akin to the anxiety he felt as a child, but not quite. The stranger cocked his head over his shoulder before peddling along the sidewalk with his nose buried in the concrete.

"Ay mister," The stranger turned on his heels, "You know what their hours are?"

"Can't you read?," Vegeta replied.

Vegeta's scolding set a fire beneath the man's heels. Darkness waxed and waned over his buzzed black hair. Pale blue light weaved together with shadows as he moved along, making his glossy leather jacket flash under the street lamps. Vegeta shrugged his shoulders. He ruffled Bulla's fuzzy white keychain with his thumb and waited.