Author's Note: Finals are CRAZY this year! I have to say that I'm a little less than satisfied with this chapter, but it's been way too long since I've posted. My stupid buttons are sticking; I think my ferret spilled something on the keyboard. That little shit :3. Anyway, my mind is occupied with the ten essays I have to write, but obsessing about this story. It's really not good for an attention span to multi-task.

I watched a couple of episodes of DBZ online; they're way different from the manga! I'm going to have to try to sync the personalities with both medias now. No wonder everybody seems to hate Bulma—she's almost insufferable in the animated version! Okay, like I said before, this is going to ride more on the wings of the manga (that means I have no idea who certain characters are).

That stupid ball would have to be at the top of the damn tower. What was it doing up there anyway? They were supposed to land on the ground, or at the bottom of the ocean, not next to Earth's freaking atmosphere!

Bulma huffed as she slammed the door to her hovercar closed, bringing her fists up to dig into her hips as she glared up the pole that defied physics and disappeared into nothing. Around her the feather clad guardians of the sacred land of Korin poked their heads out of their tents, looking at her as if she were an alien. Bulma ignored them as she debated on her approach to her first victory. No plane would reach Korin's tower; if they could, what would be the point, right? But Bulma was no she-hulk, and certainly couldn't pull herself up there, not that she would risk breaking a nail anyway. Every time she had been up to Kami's Lookout she had been flown by one of the boys—the very people she was trying to avoid now because she knew that they would try to talk her out of this. Fat chance on that one.

"HEY! KORIN!" Bulma cupped her hands around her mouth and projected as much force into her diaphragm as she could muster. Some of the children around her jumped or ran back inside. Some made the same face that Trunks did when he knew that he was in trouble. Once or twice she had even seen that look on Vegeta's face.

"KORIN! GET YOUR ASS DOWN HERE! DON'T MAKE ME COME UP THERE AND GET YOU!"

"Excuse me, miss, can I help you?" a baritone voice answered her, and Bulma turned to meet a very broad and muscular tanned chest. Her eyes bulged as she searched for an end to the expanse of skin, finally finding a very seriously looking face with long black hair.

"Oh. My," Bulma stuttered, blushing slightly. "Well, aren't you… huge…"

"What exactly is your business here in this sacred land?" the man interrogated.

"Oh," Bulma laughed nervously. This would be a great time to have a bite-sized bodyguard. "You know me, just looking for some powerful balls!" When a group of women not too far away began giggling to themselves she realized what she had just said and snapped "Dragon balls! I mean…" why the hell was she admitting this to him? His chest wasn't that big… "Souvenirs…"

"Look," she sighed. "I need to get onto that tower," she explained, her courage coming back to her. "Can you help or not?"

A younger male came up behind the large one that seemed to be blocking the entire solar system and stared at her. "Pa, I think I know her." Bulma looked at him like he was crazy. She didn't remember him.

The boulder turned to look at his son. "What do you mean, Upa? Where could you have met someone as strange as this?"

"Well, I never met her, exactly, but I've seen Goku flying with her before up to Korin's Tower."

The older man's eyebrows shot up in shock. "Goku?"

BY now Bulma had caught on. Who on this planet didn't know Goku? And she was his first and best friend. She was V.I. freaking P. "That's right!" she piped in. "I have very close, powerful friends up in that tower, and I need to see them STAT."

"Forgive me," the father said. "My name is Bora, guardian of this tower. But if you do not mind my asking, why can you not simply obtain the help of your "powerful" friends to assist you up the tower?"

Bulma glared at him, silently cursing at him for seeing through her ruse. "Oh, forget this," she spat as she stalked past him and placed her hands on the tower. She'd get up there one way or another.

With a grunt she hoisted herself up a few inches, digging the toe of her hiking boot into a groove of the intricate carving that adorned the massive pole. Her arms wobbled a bit as she pulled herself up a little more, using her legs to help carry the weight. Her other foot came up and found a niche, but she suddenly felt unstable, as if she had lost all of her leverage with the absence of ground beneath her feet. Gravity pulled at her ass, and her fingertips would not cling to the smooth stone as she felt herself leaning backwards, vertigo overcoming her as she suddenly had nothing between her and the ground but air.

She squealed as her butt met the ground, making a reverberating "thud!" She swore she might have even bounced a little.

"Ugh!" she yelled, still huddled on the ground. "This isn't fair! I shouldn't have to be doing all of the manual labor!" She turned and glared at Bora again. "You're a man! Can't you help just a little?" Bora stared at her, his face drenched in disbelief at her forwardness. Bulma sniffed and regained her composure, pushing herself onto her feet and brushing the dirt off of her with a dainty touch. She was about to spit out another scathing remark when she felt a rush of air and heard the familiar tap of feet as somebody landed on the ground.

"For a human, you are extremely loud."

She whirled around, excited to hear a familiar voice but disappointed at the same time that it had to be from someone that she couldn't expect too much help from. Piccolo's trademark scowl was right where he usually placed it, but she had seen enough of Vegeta's facial expressions to realize that his grimace wasn't as tense as it had always been. It made sense, though: Piccolo had long ago given up on his vendetta against Goku (not that she could exactly say the same for a certain other alien) and now favored peace. They had all been through a lot together, and between Gohan, Goku and Kami, Piccolo's evil tendencies just didn't stand a chance.

"Hey, Piccolo…" Was she in trouble now? She knew that the Namekian's ears were especially receptive; she wondered if Dende had sent him down, and if she would still be able to get the dragon ball from two angry green dudes. Time to look extra sweet! She lowered her eyelids so that she could look at him coyly from under her lashes as she pursed her lips. "Did you come to help me out? Just couldn't resist a damsel in distress amiright?"

Piccolo almost arched an eyebrow at her. It was obvious she wanted something, although he couldn't think of anything that she would try to pursue without the help of one of the Z fighters. "If you want help with something, you should just ask. Your human wiles won't work on me."

He smirked as her nostrils flared in annoyance and she gripped her hips sternly. "I'll have you know that my 'wiles' work very well, and that they're not wiles at all; some men just enjoy helping me."

This time Piccolo did raise an eyebrow at her, asking her silently whether or not she was going to politely ask for his assistance in whatever it was that she was doing. A battle of wills took place for nearly an entire minute before Bulma's shoulders sagged for a fraction of a second before she scooped her arms up to cross in front of her chest.

"Will you please help me?" she looked away to hide her annoyance. There was no chivalry left in this world.

Piccolo's smirk widened. "No."

Bulma's voice was almost ultrasound as she squeaked a "What?" at him, her hands balling into fists at her sides as her foot pawed at the ground like an agitated horse. He didn't know why, but Bulma's fits of temper had some amusement in them.

"No," he repeated patiently.

"Ooh! I heard you the first time!" She growled. She rand both hands through her blue hair, ignoring the temptation to rip it all out. Looking up at her impossible destination, she knew she was defeated. And on her first damn dragon ball, too. Adventures were for the young, it seemed.

"Please, Piccolo, I just need one thing," she stated somberly, looking over at him with a face that had grown tired over the years. "I doubt it will inconvenience you, and then I will leave."

Piccolo frowned. He did not like the tone in her voice. Bulma never backed down when she wanted something, so the fact that she did know worried him. "What is it?" he asked gruffly, masking his concern.

The realization that he was beginning to give in sent Bulma's heart fluttering for a few moments. Resisting the urge to clap her hands together girlishly she smiled. "Just the dragon ball you have up there!"

Piccolo was taken aback and he blinked at her in surprise. "Just the… what?"

"Dragon ball," this time it was her turn to repeat herself calmly. She could see him set his game face, ready for another war over Earth. She almost giggled at his seriousness, but decided not to tell him that her wish might be on the verge of selfishness. Namekians were a little sensitive about that stuff.

One of his hands disappeared beneath his tunic as he felt around for something. "Is this something that I or Goku should be worried about?" Piccolo asked.

Bulma shook her head furiously, "I have everything under control, lieutenant!" He grimaced, staring at her as if he were trying to decide whether or not to believe her before revealing the two-star ball that he had kept on his person.

"I almost want to ask what your purposes are, but I don't think you would tell me."

Bulma smiled softly at him as she closed the distance between them. As she laid her hand upon the golden ball resting in his palm she looked up into his eyes like the dear friend that he had become over the years. "Oh, Piccolo, you know me so well." Abruptly she snatched the ball up and deposited it in the small satchel attached to her belt, turning and making her way back to her vehicle. "Adios!" she said with a wave of her hand, plopping down on the leather seat and shifting gears with a fluid movement.

The hovercraft roared over the heads of the stunned and silent people of Korin, leaving a trail of light vapor in its wake. The guardian Bora began to turn towards Piccolo to ask him about the scenario that had just played out, but the look in the Namekian's eyes stalled his voice. His ebony pupils were staring at the direction that the female had disappeared, the groove of his forehead indicative of the thoughts that were reeling through his mind.

Something was going on. Nothing serious, or else she wouldn't be by herself. Then again, even if it were a light subject, Bulma was never by herself. She hated being alone, so what was so important that she had to hide from everyone else? It was indeed a curious situation, and Piccolo felt the need to uncover the mystery. Maybe it was just the Kami in him and his penchant for knowing everything that went on around him, but Piccolo couldn't help but be dragged into the plot.

Before Bora could regain his voice, Piccolo had taken to the sky in pursuit of the blue haired stranger.