Present

"Ouch!" Bulla gasped, waving her hand around rapidly to ease the stinging pain in her thumb to no avail. Seconds into her first attempt at cooking in, well, a very long time, and she had already burned herself on a hot skillet.

The 'stove' didn't resemble any modern kitchen appliance she'd ever seen. Comprised of what she assumed was clay and stone, powered by a flame that burned continuously without fuel or wood.

Abandoning her pan of eggs, she moved to the counter beside the stove to chop up her peppers and mushrooms, ignoring the throbbing in her thumb. Bulla could do this. She was a scientist, an entrepreneur, and a fucking princess, to boot. She could master an omelette.

Since the wardrobe argument, Goten had made it a point to always leave out a plate of food for her when he cooked for himself. Like some kind of peace offering.

It was infuriating. And as much as she hated to admit it, sweet. Which only made it more infuriating every-time she peeked out to see a fresh plate of food waiting for her.

And of course, she ate it. But it always sat like a lump of coal in her belly. Unwilling to rely on him. She had resolved to figure out how to cook for herself.

"Do you need help?" A startlingly deep voice broke her from her thoughts so abruptly that she nearly grazed her burned thumb with her knife.

She turned to find Goten leaned against the entryway, which was barely large enough to accommodate him, sans shirt once again, a towel flung around his neck, arms crossed over his chest, a dubious look on his face.

She tore her gaze away from him and went back to chopping her veggies, with perhaps a little more gusto than necessary. "I'm fine."

She assumed he'd take the hint and leave. But then she felt him close in on her. Sniffing at the air, he peered over her shoulder, filling the claustrophobically small space to the brim with his scent, kicking up a whirlwind of maddening flutters in her belly.

He was so close, she could practically feel the heat radiating from his body, which made all the little hairs on her neck stand at attention, acutely aware of his proximity. What was he doing, approaching her with such familiarity?

"It doesn't smell fine, it smells like-"

"Do you need something from me?!" She let out an exasperated sigh, ceasing her chopping and haphazardly tossing her vegetables into the pan. She spun around, leveling him with a glare that she hoped was severe enough to convey the irritation coursing through her.

He backed up half a step, hands raised. "I wanted to ask you to train with me. I think it would be good for yo- for both of us."

"Nope! thanks."

The dark-haired halfling frowned. "Why not? There's nothing else for you to do."

"Sure there is. Look at me now. I'm very busy, can't you tell?" She gestured to the stove with a flourish of her hands.

He caught his bottom lip between his teeth, his coal eyes raking her up and down, and then he shrugged. "Fine. You probably couldn't keep up with me, anyway."

Bulla's mouth dropped open and her brows flew up. "What did you just say?"

"I'm just saying, being CEO of such a big brand must be time consuming. With your packed schedule, there probably isn't much time for training." He smirked, cracking the knuckles on his right hand, then the left. "You probably don't even remember how to throw a punch."

Oh, he thinks he sooooo smooth. Part of her wanted to take him up on it. Just to show him how wrong he was. But giving into his request, letting him goad her into a fight, that was just as bad, if not worse, than if he were to actually defeat her in combat. "I know what you're doing, Goten, and it's not going to work. You say you want to train, but what you really want to do is talk and I have nothing to say."

Something akin to disappointment flashed on his face for the briefest of moments. He opened his mouth to fire off a response, but seemed to think better of it at the last second. Then he shook his head, cutting a hand across the back of his neck. "Can't blame a guy for trying, I guess. Stay in here and sulk if it suits you."

"I will!"

Before he left, his gaze flicked back over her shoulder. "By the way, your eggs are burning."

Fuck.


Senior Year, Three Years Ago

Bulla's head throbbed and pulsed as she made her slow ascent back to the conscious world. There were birds chirping somewhere, the sound grating on her, like nails on a chalkboard. They were so loud. She cracked an eye open and regretted doing so immediately when stinging, bright light flooded her vision.

So this is how it feels to be hungover. Great.

Bulla took a deep, quivering breath, rubbing a hand over her eyes, trying to marshall the effort to make it to the bathroom before she heaved all over her room. Except, her room didn't smell like her room, though it was vaguely familiar.

Slowly, she cracked one eye open, then the other.

Nope, definitely not her room.

It was much too tidy to be her room.

The beige walls were decorated with a few neatly placed band posters. The small twin bed, topped with a soft plaid blue comforter that was currently bunched up in her lap, took up most of the space. Beside it was a small desk, atop it, a neat stack of books, a laptop, and a red coffee cup filled with various pens and pencils. On the opposite wall was a large wooden dresser with a baseball bat leaned up against it, and a small laundry basket.

She looked down at herself and discovered, to her shock, that she wasn't wearing her blouse and skirt from the previous day, but a yellow and green t-shirt with the name "Son Goten" emblazoned on the chest and a pair of too-big grey sweatpants.

It was then that she registered the sound of someone's soft, steady breaths. Startled, Bulla leaned over the edge of the bed to find the boy in question, shirtless, laying on the rug. Nothing more than what appeared to be a throw pillow cradling his head but looking perfectly content.

And just like that, the memories came crashing back, bulldozing through the hazy fog in her mind, every detail replaying over and over like a horror movie she wouldn't forget anytime soon. The word vomit she'd spewed all over Madras, before dousing him in something much more tangible. Chenille. The mystery muck from the canal clinging unpleasantly to her chilled skin. The cruel, blaring laughter ringing in her ears. Vesta and Taffetta nowhere to be seen…

Taffetta. Who'd set her sights on the boy who'd fished her out of the canal.

Taffetta, who her parents thought she was spending the night with.

Oh shit.

With a jolt of adrenaline, Bulla scrambled out of the bed with such haste that her foot got tangled in the blanket and she lost her balance, toppling over, landing face-first in a warm, naked chest.

The hard body that cushioned her fall let out a groan. Bulla looked up to find a pair of dark, sleepy eyes watching her with faint amusement. "Good morning."

Cheeks hot, Bulla rolled off of him, and sprang to her feet so quickly she nearly gave herself whiplash. "Where is my phone?"

Goten let out a jaw-cracking yawn, scratching a hand through his sleep-mussed hair. "Don't know, you didn't have anything with you when I… pulled you out."

Fuck. She couldn't even remember when she'd had it last. She'd set her purse down somewhere at some point in between the first beer and… all the other ones. Fuck fuck fuck.

"And my clothes?"

"In the washing machine. I didn't think you should sleep in them because they were, ya know, pretty gross."

Oh Kami, she cringed at the thought of him seeing her in such a state. She tugged at the hem of his shirt self-consciously. Her memory of that portion of the evening was still a bit hazy. Unbidden, an image of her drunkenly stumbling through the Son's family home, flinging off her filthy clothes while Goten puttered after her flashed through her mind. "I didn't- you didn't-"

"I give you my word. I was a total gentleman. You showered and changed in the other room. I didn't see a thing, I promise."

"No more than anyone else, at least." She grumbled, more to herself than to him.

He gave her a sympathetic look before he stood, rolling his neck, likely sore from his night spent sleeping on the floor. A tendril of guilt snaked into her chest at the thought. "I should probably get up and throw your clothes in the dryer, I guess. I meant to do it last night, but I fell asleep."

"Well, I need them back now. I don't have my phone and if my parents find out I spent the night here with you alone, we're both dead."

She could just imagine the look on her father's face at the notion. He was usually lenient with her, far more than he was with Trunks. But she couldn't see him responding to that information with anything short of unbridled rage.

"Would you have preferred that I took you home in that state?" Goten quirked a brow.

No. That probably wouldn't have been well-received either. It certainly hadn't been any of the times it happened with Trunks. With a sigh, Bulla shook her head. "No…"

"Didn't think so. My Dad is training with Beerus, Vegeta is probably with him, and my Mom is at Gohan's and she's not gonna be back anytime soon, so it's just the two of us, nobody will know you were here. So chill out, I'll make us something to eat and it'll help with the hangover I'm sure you're dealing with, and then you can go home." And then, as if the matter was settled, he opened the door and exited the bedroom.

As if on cue, her stomach growled. It seemed hungover or not; her saiyan appetite remained unchanged.

She supposed she could only put out one fire at a time, and hope that Taffetta hadn't blown her cover story.

Despite never having set foot in the Son family home before, Bulla found the bathroom easily enough. The house was much smaller than her own, but it had a warmth, a coziness to it. Bulla splashed cool water on her face, rinsing away the crusty remnants of sleep from her eyes, and to her mortification, the lingering taste of vomit from her mouth. Which Goten had probably gotten a good whiff of when she'd unceremoniously landed on top of him. She paused when she caught sight of herself in the mirror, clad in one of the dark-haired Saiyan's old shirts.

And Bulla didn't quite know what to think. If anyone had told her she'd be having breakfast, alone, with Son Goten after waking up his bed, and being rescued from the most humiliating event in her life to date. She would have died laughing at the ridiculousness of such a scenario.

He was her brother's best friend, but they hadn't ever been close. He enjoyed poking fun at her occasionally. But by and large, he had paid little attention to her.

And yet, he'd been there when she needed him, without being asked. Given her the clothes off of his back and slept on the hard floor while she took the soft bed.

That kindness deserved to be acknowledged.

The savory scent of sizzling bacon caught her nose.

She followed it into the kitchen where she found Goten rooting through the fridge. He'd put on a white t-shirt to go with his blue joggers.

"Juice?" He offered, holding out a tall glass of what looked like orange juice. She nodded, taking it as she pulled out a chair for herself at the table.

She was quiet for a while as he worked, minding the bacon in the skillet and periodically stirring a steaming pot, an easy-going smile on his face. He was clearly a morning person. She hadn't even known that he could cook, but she supposed it wasn't surprising. He probably had to help his Mom in the kitchen quite a bit.

"Umm," Goten glanced up at the sound of her voice as he transferred the bacon onto a plate for them to share. "Thank you… for this, and for getting me out of there when you did."

The smile on his face flickered and a muscle popped in his jaw, and he seemed to mull over her words as he turned off the stove and joined her at the table.

"You never have to thank me for that." He replied quietly, placing a steaming bowl of rice and eggs in front of her as he tucked into his own meal in the chair across from hers. "So now what? Should we start planning your revenge?"

"I was actually thinking I'd leave town. Better yet, leave the planet. I have the technology, so why not? I'll live out the rest of my days as a hermit, I'll find some remote planet, learn their customs, raise intergalactic chickens until one day I drop dead, and my pet space-cats eat me."

"That's a little dramatic." He chuckled in between bites of rice.

"Well, I had already done a stupendous job embarrassing myself last night long before Chenille pushed me into the canal and everyone saw my goods." Bulla grumbled into her breakfast, which she was pleased to find was actually pretty good. Simple but good.

"Yeah, I saw you power-wash lover-boy." He chewed his food thoughtfully, and Bulla cringed internally as the reel of that mortifying moment replayed for the hundredth time since she'd woken. He probably thought she was a complete lunatic.

"Maybe," Goten went on as he munched on a piece of bacon, "we could put a pin in the space-hermit plan, and just do a little damage control instead."

Bulla paused mid bite. "What damage control? Everyone is going to be talking about this for weeks. Chenille is probably scheming up new ways to terrorize me as we speak."

"You know… I bet she'd back off if she thought you were interested in someone else." He raised his eyebrows pointedly.

Oh no, not this again.

Bulla scowled, "If you offer to be my fake boyfriend again Goten, I swear to Kami…"

"If you would just hear me out-"

"You know, the first time you brought this up, I thought you were just messing with me but now I'm starting to think you might actually have a thing for me and this is all just some big, elaborate scheme to… get into my pants!"

Goten stopped eating, his dark eyes raising to meet hers as leaned back in his chair, that maddening, Son smile stretched across his face . "Well, I guess there's no sense in denying it. You caught me Princess, I should've known better than to try to fool you."

"Goten, it's not funny!"

"I'm completely serious. I can't wait to tell this story to our grandkids."

"Will you stop being a clown for five seconds? I'm having a crisis here!"

"I know. I'm trying to help you with that, but you keep turning me down!"

"I can't do that, Goten. I just can't."

"Why not?" He asked, unbothered as he scarfed down another piece of bacon.

"You know why not! First of all, because it's weird. And there's the small matter of my brother, you know, Trunks? Your best friend? Ring any bells?"

"Who would never find out unless you told him."

"And then there's Taffetta."

"Taffetta." His right brow flew up. "What does she have to do with anything?"

"Well, she… kind of… likes you."

Goten seemed to consider that information as he took a long drink of his juice. "Hmm. She was a little… weirder than usual when I saw her. Finally gave up on landing Trunks for good, huh? He'll be crushed."

"She asked me for my blessing to make her move on you last night before everything… went to hell."

"Really… and what did you say?" He asked, suddenly seeming very interested in a small scuff on the surface of the table's wooden surface.

"I told her to go right ahead. It's none of my business who you fool around with."

It really wasn't any of her business. But as the words left her mouth, a bizarre, uncomfortable pressure bubbled up in her chest.

Goten's attention went back to his eggs and rice. After a beat of thoughtfully chewing his food, he replied. "No offense, but I try to limit my dating pool to girls I haven't caught sniffing my best friend's dirty socks."

Bulla managed to choke down her laughter before orange juice came spewing out of her nose. "It was one sweaty ascot."

"That you know of. I wouldn't be surprised if she built a shrine to him in her closet made of his old chewing gum."

She playfully kicked at his foot under the table, and that only made him grin wider. "She does not! Be nice."

"On a serious note, though, as flattering as the thought of being Taffetta's consolation prize is, I'm good."

Well, Taffetta would not be pleased about that. For as long as they'd been friends, she'd never handled rejection very well. That might have been the culprit behind her infatuation with Trunks. Or at least part of it.

"Now that we have your two primary concerns squared away." Goten plucked the last piece of bacon from the plate between them and plopped it into her bowl. "I think you should seriously consider my offer. Especially now that it serves the dual function of boosting your popularity, whilst simultaneously taking care of your Chenille problem."

"What makes you so sure of that?" She eyed him skeptically. He hadn't seen the open hostility blazing in the redhead's eyes last night before chaos erupted on the bank of the canal.

"Because you wouldn't be a threat to her if she thought you were into me instead of her ex-boyfriend, and because it would be social suicide." Goten shrugged. "I know exactly what kind of pull I have at that school. You think you're the first girl to date me for the sake of popularity? Come on, what do you have to lose?"

"I don't know…" He made it sound so simple, as if it were the answer to all of her problems, but all Bulla could think of were all the little ways such a ruse could go wrong.

He was right about one thing, though: everyone at that school worshipped him. He hadn't been bragging. It was a fact. A fact that just maybe she could use to her advantage?

"I'll think about it."