Brought to you by Daftpunkress, Gue22 , Joy's Canvass and ShadowMajin.

Chapter 3

...

"Your opinion doesn't matter; your feelings don't matter. You are no one and you will not be ruled by your temper," the master chastised as the long whip hissed in the air. It curved into an angry slither just before connecting with the bare flesh of her back. She knew better than to cry, it would only lengthen the punishment. She flinched, biting the inside of her cheek as it tore through her flesh.

Chichi snapped her eyes open.

She glanced at the large ticking grandfather clock across the room six AM it read time to wake up. She threw off the luxurious covers and swung her bare feet to the floor.

Today she would start her first job. She was not exactly worried, but she did feel a little bit of trepidation. She had no clue what a florist was and she hadn't had much time to deal with tasks that did not revolve around training, fighting or killing.

It took her about thirty minutes to get fully washed up, dressed, and on her way to the large dining room. More than anything she was looking forward to breakfast. The food here was so different from the food back in the Clan. The flavors and sensations were so overwhelming that she'd stuffed her face and thoroughly embarrassed herself afterwards. Making her way down the corridor, she felt a bit silly to have dreamt about food the previous night.

"Chichi, my dear!" Ox King boomed as he came into view. "Come, join me," he beckoned with a wave of his hand. "Have a seat." He patted down on the empty chair next to him.

Chichi dutifully sat down, placing a napkin over her lap.

"I see that you found the uniform that Mrs. Baldsy laid out for you," he smiled proudly.

"Yes I did. It is rather…flowery and uncomfortable," she stated, shifting in her chair as she tried to forget the ridiculousness of her 'uniform'.

It consisted of two layers: a bright yellow dress that reached just below her knees and a frilly white lace overlay that stopped just above her knees. The sleeves were long and the collar was tight against her neck with a little yellow bow at the top. She felt utterly silly.

"Aww, but you look so adorable," Ox King cooed like he was talking to a five year old.

Chichi merely crinkled her nose.

The large man laughed good-naturedly. "Come on then. Let's enjoy our breakfast and then I'll drive you to work."

As her new 'father' began to eat, Chichi followed suit. She was trying hard not to repeat what had happened at dinner. She made painfully sure to eat at the same pace as her host, all the while paying careful attention to try out each individual dish. As she ate, she pondered on the right moment to raise her question what exactly was a florist? No, she would not ask him. She would figure it out soon enough when they got there. Asking questions of anyone other than her Master was a sign of insecurity, vulnerability and weakness. She absolutely could not afford to have Ox King think of her in those terms. He may change his mind about 'adopting' her and send her back to 'the orphanage.'

She was tasting freedom for the first time and going back to the confines of the temple and The Clan was out of the question.

It was a little while later before the Ox King looked down at his large, hammy arm to glance at his watch. "It's time to go Chichi; have you had your fill?" he enquired, chuckling at the amount of empty plates and dishes surrounding her.

"Yes," was all she could mutter, though her face felt warm as she began to experience the same shame from last night shame from over-eating yet again.

She got up from the table and followed behind him.

Goku peeled his eyes open and sniffed the air, immediately breaking into a wide smile.

Something delicious was coming from the kitchen. It could only mean one thing that new cook that Master Roshi was talking about was already here, putting together breakfast.

Alright! He jumped from his bed and raced to the bathroom, not wanting to waste a precious second. In less than fifteen minutes, he was showered and changed, ready to start the day.

"Goku ma' boy!" Master Roshi greeted his entry into the kitchen with dramatic enthusiasm, ushering him to the table. "Have a seat! Have a seat and meet our new cook!"

Goku stared, blinking several times at the new cook a person with big blue hair decorated by a red ribbon in a bow. She wore a bunny costume with a black and white tuxedo style romper with white lace, black buttons, and a white bunny tail. It also included a black and white vest, button trim white gloves, and a black and white bunny ear head-band .

Goku blinked again. Was she seriously cooking in that 'uniform' he wondered as the tail swayed from side to side while she stirred the contents of the pot.

"Oh…um…you must be Goku." The new cook turned from the stove to face him. "I'm Launch, nice to meet you." She outstretched her gloved hand and offered him a warm smile.

"Yeah, um…hi!" Goku shook her hand enthusiastically, "Nice ta meet'ya too Launch!"

In a flash, he'd settled down next to a crimson Krillen on the table, ready to get started on breakfast. "Hey Krillen, smells great in here huh?" He rubbed his hands up and down in anticipation of a great breakfast.

"Sooo…Goku? Hmmm?" leered the old pervert. "What do you think of our Launch?" he shoved another piece of tissue into his nose.

"Here you go." Launch was suddenly at the table, a large platter of food in hand. She had to bend over to place the large platter in-front of Goku. "I've been told that you eat a lot, hope you fill up."

"Ooh!" Master Roshi phased behind her, giving the fluffy tail a squeeze. Drool tricked from the corner of his mouth and down his chin, dripping onto the floor.

"Man, oh man," he leered in a sloppy mess. "That my boy is attached to one scrumptious heart-shaped hiney, ooh!"

Krillen's eyes reluctantly lifted off his plate to take a quick peek at said heart-shaped hiney. Burning in embarrassment, he immediately dropped them back to his plate.

Goku was too busy admiring his food to pay attention to anything else.

Launch was simply wearing a sickly sweet smile, seemingly unaware or unaffected by the old man's antics. "Enjoy your meal boys. I'll get started with the dishes."

"Gee thanks Launch! Looks great!" chirped Goku, turning to his friend. "Hey buddy, you're looking kinda red. You sick or something?"

"Shut-up and eat your food, Goku. We still have to make a pick-up stop before going to school."

"Yeah, I kind foouddodloo," Goku shoved more food into his mouth.

"Arg, manners Goku. Try not to speak with your mouth full," frowned Krillen.

"Our main customer is the typical 'mall florist' who wants his flowers delivered fresh and cut. So as you can see, we're more of a flower farm than just a flower shop," explained Tien as he stepped aside to let Chichi view the vast grounds of flower gardens stretching in colourful plenty as far as the eye could see.

"I see," was all she said, completely unimpressed. Flowers were fragile and frivolous, why anyone would want to grow so many of them was beyond her.

"Recently we've been contacted by a wedding planning company that wants to source all its wedding flower needs directly from us. Lilly, whom you met in the gift shop, is very good with the artistic stuff; she did the designs for all the bouquets, corsages, centre pieces, etc. But between running the gift shop, organizing mall orders and coordinating deliveries, arrangements for the first wedding we took on had us on our toes. Lilly didn't get a wink of sleep the night before; just getting the centerpieces done was a nightmare!"

Chichi merely frowned. One night without sleep was hardly something to cry about. That Lilly was surely silly.

"Anyway, so this next wedding is even bigger than the first one," continued Tien. "I want Lilly to focus solely on that. This is where you come in. We're really gonna need someone to take over her duties in the shop out front."

"I see."

"Right then," he closed the windows. "Let's head back down and I'll get you settled in."

It was about ten minutes after Tien left to inspect the gardens that the doors opened. A young woman walked in with a large toothy grin on her face. "Morning! Morning! Oh…Lilly is not in?"

Chichi looked at her blankly, mentally assessing her. She was rather puny with an awkward posture. She never would have made it through her Master's training. She was also dressed ridiculously in bright colors and bows. She disliked her on sight.

"Excuse me?" the woman glared at her. "Did you just say my posture was awkward?"

Chichi merely furrowed her brow. She didn't realize she had said that out loud. "What do you want?" she rudely enquired, dismissing her comments.

"Why I never! How rude!" the woman exclaimed indignantly. "Are you new or something?"

"Something like what?" Chichi frowned. What else could there be?

"Here," the woman slipped her a piece of paper. "Just hand over my order and I'll be out of here. Trust me, Tien is gonna hear about this."

Unmoved by the threat, Chichi picked up the receipt and noted the order number like Tien had shown her. "Just wait there. I'll go and fetch your order."

The back room was really just a giant cooler. The floor was lined with pots, buckets and vases all filled with cut flowers swimming in warm water. On the shelves were several bouquets arranged for customers, roses making the majority of them since they were so popular.

After locating the bouquet with the correct order number, Chichi stared at it with a frown. While the others were neat bunches of twenty-four or thirty-six stems of dark roses, this one was…well…it was a mess! Lilly had clearly not had the time to sort it out. Well, that's why she was here. She would straighten it out immediately. With that resolved, Chichi got to work.

Quickly, she began to pick out anything that didn't belong. Why were there ferns and ruscuses in here anyway? After stripping the bouquet of all the filler flowers that were giving it volume, she then proceeded to remove all the yellow and orange tulips from the bunch. What was left after she was done was nothing but a thin floppy bunch of red tupils.

"Your order," she dumped the sorry looking arrangement on the counter. "Pay up."

The woman looked at her like she had grown several heads, "No, this can't be my order. This is not even a decent bouquet!" she shrieked.

Chichi narrowed suspicious eyes at the woman. Tien had warned her to be on her guard, that sometimes customers would try to bargain down on the price by coming up with all kinds of excuses. But he'd assured her that all their produce was fresh and of prime quality and that she should stick to the pricing or send them on their way. Being new, he had urged her to be careful in case someone tried to 'stiff' her.

Well, Tien need not worry, she wasn't about to let some weak-looking woman stiff her.

"Oh?" She leaned over the counter and peered at the customer with a threatening look.

"Don't look at me with that attitude young lady. I will excuse it because you are new, but…this is most definitely not my order. I will not pay a single cent for this rubbish!" She pushed the 'bouquet' angrily back in Chichi's direction. The next thing she knew, she couldn't breathe.

"You will pay or die," Chichi said coldly, her fingers gripped around her throat. "Choose." She tightened her hold. She would not be 'stiffed', she would not let Tien down.

With bulging eyes, the customer struggled fruitlessly until the lack of oxygen caused her brain to shut down she lost consciousness just as a trickle of urine ran down her leg.

"Weak." Chichi dropped her dispassionately, wondering where Tien usually kept the unconscious bodies of the client's. Hmm, weird that he didn't explain.

Chichi grabbed her by the feet and dragged her body out of the florist store and laid her down on the bench outside by the door. She went back inside and grabbed the lady's bag and brought it out, setting it down beside her.

And so began her first day at work.

"Would you guys stop being so stiff? I just wanna grab some ice cream with a few friends." Bulma poked the shorter of her two bodyguards with her finger.

"But Bulma, you know the rules; we're supposed to escort you home immediately after school. It's for your own safety, you know that," Krillen pointed out.

"Sorry Bulma, I'd really like to stop for some ice cream too, but Master Roshi said to keep an eye on you during school hours and to make sure that we deliver you to your home security immediately after school," Goku reiterated their orders

"Urgh!" The blue-eyed teenager stomped her black heel hard on the pavement. "Deliver me! DELIVER ME! I am not some kind of package!" she huffed, folding her arms as she turned away from her bodyguards.

The three of them were standing in the middle of Roan Avenue, the main street leaving their school. Skyscrapers filled with expensive stores lined the street on both sides while people and cars bustled with activity around them. Bulma wanted to turn left and go to the Delish, the most popular ice cream store in town, but Goku and Krillen wanted to turn right and take her home.

"Sorry Bulma, but those are the rules. Your father would get real mad if we brought you home late. He'd worry that the bad guys got you," Goku tried to comfort the obviously pissed girl.

"It's for your own safety Bulma, let's go," Krillen tugged gently on her elbow.

Urgh! She was so sick of hearing that. 'It's for your own safety!' Did they think she didn't know that? Did they think she had forgotten the threats? Did they think that the haunting memory of the package with the expertly hand-crafted and beheaded Bulma doll had escaped her mind? Did they think she had forgotten the slimy, muggy hand that had tried to pull her into a moving van? Did they? Well, she hadn't!

She knew that someone was out to get her, that's why she'd let her father talk her into taking these two 'bodyguards' in the first place. It was a perfect arrangement really; they were both young enough, so they had enrolled in not only her school, but all her classes as well. They kept a close eye on her at all times, practically shadowing her without anyone being the wiser. They did everything together at school, so much so her other friends felt that she no longer had any room for them in her life. She felt so out of touch with everything and everyone and it just wasn't fair!

But it was always the same, as soon as school was over, they shipped her off to the so-called safety of her home. And she was plain sick of it! She couldn't even remember the last time she had gone out with some of her old friends for a lousy ice cream. Well, her own safety be damned, she was going to join Minnie and her slutty friends for ice cream and there was nothing these two could do to stop her!

Pulling out her cell phone, Bulma dialed in her home number and waited impatiently. "Dad!" she yelled into her phone once she heard him pick up. "Nothing. Nothing's wrong, I just…urgh, Dad would you let me talk for just one second please!" She shook her head in annoyance. "This arrangement is not working out for me. These guys are supposed to be good, right?" She glared into the phone as if her father could see it. "Then they should be able to protect me no matter where I go!" she yelled. "I want to meet my friends for some ice cream at the Delish…Yes I know there's tons of ice cream at home…I know Mom makes the best ice cream in the world, but that's not the point…No, it's not! It's not a warzone Dad, it's right on Roan Avenue!" she yelled loud enough for the the surrounding people to turn their heads and stare at the blue-haired teenager for a few seconds.

"My poor ears," Goku mumbled

"I'll be home by six. Bye Dad." She cut the connection triumphantly. "Now, anymore objections?" she stood with her hands on her hips, daring the two boys to come up with another excuse.

"Well," Goku scratched his head. "Your dad is technically our boss, so…if it's fine by him, then it's fine by ME!" His eyes suddenly lit up. "Come on guys, let's see this famous Delish then!" he practically dragged the two down the street with him.

Chichi sat mutely in the chair outside the flower shop. They were talking in hushed whispers, but her trained ears could pick up everything. Okay, so, maybe she was not cut out for this job.

"Well, there is substantial water damage in the greenhouse."

"How did it happen?" Ox King asked puzzled.

"I have no idea. But it's flooded and that's where all the rare cacti are housed. That's bad, but I can fix that easily enough. The problem is the lady she assaulted," Tien answered as he rubbed his temples tiredly.

Chichi sighed, the woman had awoken with her face and arms blistering red from being sunburned. Chichi had conveniently hid behind some potted trees while Tien tried to calm the irate lady down. That had spelt the end of her duty in the gift shop. After calling Ox King to demand that he pick her up immediately, Tien had sent her away to the greenhouse where she wouldn't come into contact with another human being.

"Well, I'll pay for all the damage she's caused Tien. I'm sorry about all the trouble; I really thought she'd be ready for a job. I forget that she's spent the last eighteen years imprisoned behind the walls of an orphanage. I guess things were bad for her in there if her first instinct was so defensive. She must have no clue how to act around normal people. My poor girl," Ox King said with a saddened sigh. He had really thought this would be a good job for Chichi.

Chichi walked to the car having heard enough. She waited for Ox King to return. She just wanted the day to be over with so she could go home and have some more food.

"Well, that was an eventful first day honey," Ox King said once he had joined her in the car and they began driving home.. "Don't let it get you down. There's always tomorrow," he offered with a smile.

Chichi did not smile back, or say anything. Instead, she turned towards the window and watched the scenery that sped by.

The room was dim. It was always dim. For some reason the old men thought dim lighting was the way to get work done. An idiotic notion to be sure as far as Vegeta was concerned— they may have been the heads of the respective syndicate families, but…how could anyone get any work done when they could barely see passed the ugly old face across the table from them?

These old men and their old ways. Vegeta rolled his eyes.

Four of the old geezers sat on cream padded high chairs around an oval ribbon-striped mahogany table, while he and the other three sons sat scattered on the couches. There was an empty chair around the table indicating the absence of the fifth family the Colds. Bastards think they're too good for this meeting. Dead cigars lay in glass ashtrays while burning ones puffed out smoke from their mouths. This made the room smoky, adding to the visibility issues. Also, that smoker's stench was everywhere, making the room a headache for anyone that preferred cleaner living habits.

"Your boys are getting wild, Vegeta," one of the old men commented, taking a puff of his cigar. "It'd be appreciated if you got some control over them."

Vegeta kept quiet. The man wasn't talking to him. Those statements were meant for his father, Vegeta Sei the Third. It was unfortunate that the old man had decided to name him Vegeta Sei the Fourth. It made for very unpleasant confusion at times. It also didn't help that he and his father looked the same save for the elder's goatee and added height.

His father grumbled his reply. "If you didn't bring on weaklings, this wouldn't be a problem, Paragus. How about your boys quit acting like spineless women and show some balls. Perhaps then my men wouldn't step on them every time they run into each other in the streets."

Paragus looked affronted by that. But quite frankly Vegeta had to agree with his father. Paragus took any able body he could get his greedy old hands on regardless of expertise or experience. That ended up with him collecting street trash, the kind of guys that were all bluff and no buff. It was easy to wave a gun around and say you're tough; it was something entirely different to simply walk up to a man and slice his belly open.

Vegeta watched stoically as old Paragus glared at his father with his one good eye. The other one was sealed shut by an ugly-looking scar.

Rumor had it that he and his son Broly the man sitting to Vegeta's right had a knife-fight. Word was Broly tried stabbing at his old man's head, but barely missed. The scar across Paragus' eye was a result of that near miss. Add to that the goatee and hair style similar to the Sei family's and one began to wonder whom was trying to emulate whom.

"Just keep your guys out of my territory, alright? My boys are getting worked up about a possible takeover on your end. Ridiculous, I know, but they get edgy when agitated," said Paragus.

Vegeta almost snorted at that remark. Ridiculous was an understatement. Why his father would ever want Paragus' turf wasn't a mystery to anyone who gave it much thought. The territory was borderline useless.

"The same goes for you, Paragus," said Vegeta III, staring the other man down. "My men generally stay away from your territory. I can't say the same for your own men. As trigger-happy as they all are, it wouldn't surprise me one bit if they took popshots at my men and didn't like it when they fired back."

"All of which is meaningless," another voice added.

Vegeta let his eyes drift over to the younger, more level-headed of the bunch. Toma was easily ten years younger than either his father or Paragus as his smoother, more handsome face showed. He even had a short ponytail despite his short-trimmed hair. But if Vegeta were to give anyone credit here, Toma's strict business-like demeanor was perhaps the only thing worthy of it. "We're not here to bicker about who is encroaching on who. There are more important matters to attend to."

Toma's son, Fubbu seated on a one seat towards the end of the room nodded. At fifteen, he was the youngest of the syndicate 'heirs', but the little bastard was already as ruthless if not as sadistic as the two Cold sons. If he didn't look so much like his father, one would have to wonder about a possible fence-jumper.

Vegeta's father gave Toma a stony look. It wasn't often he was reprimanded, but the old man didn't like it whenever it did rear its head. Instead of being petty though, his father agreed with Toma. "You are correct. Gentlemen, we have a slight problem that needs addressing. There's a trial going on that's in the middle of arguments concerning one of Nappa's fronts."

At this, Nappa, the only bald man here, did his best to remain calm keeping his eyes averted from his own father Mappa, who was seated on the main table with the rest of the family heads. See Nappa was the oldest of the so called 'heirs' and he was best known for his short tempter when things didn't go his way.

"The prosecutor is leveling several charges on the front," continued Toma, hard eyes falling on the empty chair before moving on to the rest of the 'family heads'. It clearly irritated him that Cold and his bunch were no-shows.

"So what?" Paragus spoke. "We have all the important officials on the payroll. This is inconsequential."

"Normally I would agree," Vegeta III acknowledged, "but the presiding judge is rouge. We haven't been able to pay him off ever since he took the bench. He's the main reason why the prosecution is even bothering with the case."

"Which means we have to get rid of him," Toma added. "But there's more. It's been revealed that the case revolves around a key witness, a cop. Somehow he infiltrated the store in question and found out its dirty little secrets."

Vegeta nearly slapped his face in disbelief. There was no way something like that should've happened and only a moron allowed it without retribution. Hell, Nappa should have had the guy dead the moment he revealed it if anything else.

For once, Vegeta found himself in agreement with Paragus. "You let an undercover cop scout one of your businesses?" the one-eyed man directed at Nappa. "How the hell did you let that one happen? Huh?"

"It's not my fault!" Nappa shouted back.

"Of course it's your fault," Vegeta's father interjected. "You're the one that hired those idiots that let the cop through. This is on your shoulders."

Nappa glared at him. "I already told you, I've dealt with the men responsible."

"Not soon enough I'm afraid. We wouldn't be here if you had."

"Don't forget the prosecutor," Mappa spoke up for the first time. Vegeta imagined that it was an embarrassment to him that his son was always getting them into sticky situations like this, but once a mess was made, it had to be cleaned and thoroughly at that. "This cop has family, right?" Nappa's father continued. "Kill the wife, mother, or father. We need to send a message to anyone that might dare pull such a stunt against us we'll fuck your loved ones, if you fuck with us."

A low murmur of agreement swept the the room as the old men and thier sons nodded in agreement to Mappa's words.

Vegeta just kept quiet.

"Might as well throw in the policeman's boss," Toma said. "Who normally gives the assignments for undercover operations?"

"That would be the head of the undercover unit," Vegeta answered, speaking for the first time since the commencement of the meeting. "All operative records are kept with him or her and kept secret."

"And that person would've given the undercover cop the objective of infiltrating the store," Toma finished. "Perhaps we can even turn this into a boon. Kill the head of undercover operations and get access to his files. We can learn who the other operatives are and keep tabs on them."

"We're making lemons out of lemonade, aren't we?" Nappa said with a grin.

The rest of the men at the table sweat-dropped at that. Seriously? Could he not even make basic metaphors without proving his idiocy? Someone needed to staple that bald idiot's lips shut to keep him quiet. Hell, even Nappa's own father grunted in distaste at his son's words.

"Vegeta can handle this," Vegeta the III volunteered, now that the decision was made. "This will be child's play for him."

Vegeta sent a dark glare at his father. This was the last thing he felt like 'handling'. His father knew that he was working his own projects to get out of this 'syndicate business he was plain sick of it. But any opportunity he got, the old man would constantly volunteer him for the dirty jobs. He already had plans in motion that would get him out of this rotten business, among other things. Yet, if this was to be his last contribution here, then so be it. "Fine, I'll do it," he grunted.

It was time to give his contacts at The Clan a call...

Ox King was really worried now. It had been three weeks since Chichi's blunder at Tien's flower shop and frankly he was beginning to think that the girl was simply not employable. She had messed up in all subsequent jobs he'd secured for her after that one.

So far she had been caught red-handed eating the produce and freshly baked bread at one of his friend's small grocery. She was also fired from Yajirobi's office after she made snow by hole-punching all his documents instead of filing them. Then she got canned from her job at PoPo's bar for getting drunk and beating a customer to a pulp. In her defense though, she had never had alcohol before and a bar was probably not the best place to have her working.

Either way, three weeks later and they had gotten nowhere. There was only one place left that he could call in a favor to get her a job. He sincerely hoped that this time it would work out, not just for him, but for Chichi's sake too. Despite being toneless in the way she carried herself, he could tell she was very frustrated with how everything was turning out.

Tomorrow she would be starting bright an early at this new job, so hopefully this time he wouldn't end up shelling out more funds to repair her unintentional damages.

"I don't know Bulma, he looks kinda short to me," Goku offered his honest opinion as they walked out the school gates.

"Shut-up Goku, he's not short! He's hot!" Bulma hit him with the weight of the glossy Forbus magazine she'd been gawking at.

She had just shown her two bodyguards the impressive cover. It was featuring a picture of Vegeta Sei, only heir to the infamous Sei empire. The article was practically congratulating the man for accumulating the most wealth within the shortest time to ever be recorded for someone his age. He looked so impressive in that suit with his deep, shrouded eyes cast downwards. Oh, what she wouldn't give to meet him face to face and unravel all his mysterious secrets!

"Don't judge a book by its cover Bulma, he may look all that, but word is…he's nothing but a creep," Krillen spat bitterly. He had his reasons for despising the Sei Family.

"Oh hush, all those vicious rumors about him and his family being affiliated with those syndicate criminal low-lives is nothing but slander. He talks about it right here, on page sixty-two." She flipped the magazine to the correct article and shoved it in Krillen's face.

"Right, because if it were true, he'd confess all the nitty- gritty about his criminal exploits openly on page sixty-three," Krillen responded sarcastically as he slapped the magazine away, irritated.

"Fine, be a sour puss. All I know is I've got to meet him. I'm gonna marry him one day you know," she said dreamily, hugging the magazine to her chest.

"I thought you were gonna marry our friend Yamcha," Goku chuckled. Bulma was so fickle with her affections; she changed prospective husbands as often as she changed hairstyles.

"Yes, well, Yamcha's cute. You two bums should have introduced me while I was still interested, but…that ship has sailed now," she sighed, bringing Vegeta's face up to hers. "I want him."

"I'm surrounded by fools," Krillen muttered. "First Goku drives us crazy for three weeks, whining about this bus girl that he'll never see again, and now you too? Pining after some spoiled rich boy? Give me a break."

"He is not spoiled!" the Capsule Corp. heiress shrieked. "If you read the article, you would know that at twenty-one he's turned some of his father's failing businesses into money-making cash cows. He is absolutely brilliant as am I. Once I graduate from high school, you wait and see, I'm gonna take the business world by storm too with my secret invention." She placed a soft kiss against Vegeta's glossy paper lips, folded the magazine and slipped it into her purse.

"Whatever," Krillen muttered beside her, his strides matching her noisy ones on the pavement.

"Yeah, whatever Krillen," she dismissed his sourness. "Anyway, Capsule Corp's throwing a massive cocktail party this weekend and I need you guys to attend."

"Err…we only cover you when you're off Capsule grounds, Bulma. Your home security is pretty tight, even at a party. You won't need us." Krillen pointed out.

"Of course I don't need you shadowing me at my own house." She rolled her eyes. "I'm not asking you guys to come as my bodyguards; I'm asking you guys to come as friends. I found out yesterday that Vegeta Sei is coming! Imagine! Just imagine! Out of the five hundred guests, my future husband is also coming!" She spun dreamily at that. "I have a plan on how I can meet him and sneak away with him for a while. That's why you guys have to come. I need your help in order to pull it off," she whispered conspiratorially

"What? We can't help you sneak away from security! Are you crazy? Or have you forgotten that there's a mad man out there, ready to snatch you up at the first opportunity?" Krillen stared at her in disbelief.

"Shut-up Krillen. Fine don't come then, you'll just infect the party with your sourpuss mood anyway. What about you Goku?" Bulma linked her arm in his, staring up at him hopefully. "You'll help me, won't you Goku?" she used her sweetest voice, the one usually reserved for manipulating her father.

"Um…" Goku scratched his head. "Gee Bulma, I'd love to help, but Krillen's right, you should have someone with you at all times, at least, until we catch this guy that's after you."

"Urgh!" She pulled out of his arm. "You guys are so anal!" She pressed forward, trying to leave them behind. But of course, they caught up to her in a few short strides.

"We're just trying to do our jobs Bulma, don't forget that," Krillen snipped.

He couldn't care less about the pipe dreams of his spoiled charge. He had other matters on his mind like that bastard Vegeta Sei.

The anger from the past burning him up, Krillen cursed when the familiar signage of Delish came into view. Great, this damn place again. "Do we have to go into Delish today? We've been coming in every day after school for three weeks straight. Can we go somewhere else please?"

"What? No way!" Goku widened his eyes in horror at the suggestion. "It's Tuesday today, and you know how I love the Tuesday special." He rubbed his hands together in anticipation.

"Sorry sourpuss, but I'm with Goku," said Bulma. "I love the Tuesday special too. I should actually get my mom to learn that recipe," she added as she pushed the glass doors open, making her entry with Goku and a reluctant Krillen following behind.

That's chapter 3 guys, let us know how you're liking the story so far.