Common Ground

It was finally here. The day Bulma Brief had been looking forward to for weeks and months. The day she would be given freedom for three whole months. The end of May had finally come and it was the last day of school. The last day she would ever be a seventh grader. She sang and danced through the halls of the compound as she got ready for school that morning, not caring what tailed boy might be prowling around ready to laugh at the spectacle she was making of herself. She was much too happy to care about any insults thrown her way.

Vegeta's attention was caught when he saw a hot pink arm swinging through the air mere inches from his face as he exited his room to head downstairs for breakfast. He growled at the offending appendage and had to resist the urge to rip it from its owner's socket.

"Oh, sorry Vegeta!" Bulma sang as she danced and twirled down the hall to the stairs.

He quirked an eyebrow. 'What's gotten into her? She's usually a zombie this time of day.' He shrugged and followed her downstairs to the kitchen where an enormous helping of steaming blueberry pancakes was waiting on the table for him.

Mrs. Brief giggled when she saw her daughter's good mood as she plopped down in her chair at the table. Her smile was enough to brighten the whole room. "Good morning, Bulma. My, you look happy."

"I am, Mom! This is my last day of seventh grade! Then summer break!" Bulma cheered.

"Oh, that's right, dear. I almost forgot. Oh! We'll have to go on a shopping spree tomorrow and get you all ready for summer!" Mrs. Brief clapped her hands together and sat at the table next to her husband who was reading his morning newspaper.

"Really? Can we?" Bulma squealed with delight and jumped out of her chair to hug her mother. "You're the best, Mom!"

Vegeta winced as his ears were assaulted with the high-pitched screeching of the two females. He didn't know what they were getting so excited about, but he knew he wanted no part in it if they were going to make his ears bleed over it. He sneered at their display and turned back to eating the mountain of pancakes on his plate.

"We can take Vegeta, too," Mrs. Brief said, "He'll need some new clothes. He's growing so fast."

The young saiyan's eyes shot up to the crazy blonde woman. He had decided less than a minute ago that he wasn't going to partake in whatever the females were planning. "I don't want to go," he said after swallowing a mouthful of bacon.

"Now don't be silly," Mrs. Brief said, waving her hand in dismissal, "You're coming with us and we're going to have lots of fun! You've never been shopping with the Briefs before." She winked at him and served him more scrambled eggs.

Dr. Brief turned the page of his newspaper and silently chuckled at the boy's misfortune. There was a reason he always managed to find something urgent that needed to be taken care of the day his wife planned a big shopping trip. Vegeta caught his sentiments and shook his head furiously. "No, I'd rather not go."

"Come on, Vegeta!" Bulma exclaimed, "It's going to be tons of fun. You'll love it, I promise!"

That promise made him even less convinced than he had been before. He shook his head again, ready to continue protesting. "Vegeta, dear, you really do need new clothes. Your pants are getting too short and your shirts aren't fitting right anymore either. Remember you're a growing boy," Mrs. Brief said.

Vegeta looked down at himself and grumbled. It was true. He had noticed when he wore shirts with sleeves they were beginning to restrict his movements when he trained. And his pants were above his ankles. He looked like a peasant. He sighed and gave in to her arguments. He would go with them to get new clothes, even though he was really quite content to just wear his battle uniform every day. Mrs. Brief wouldn't allow that, though, because she insisted he wear clean clothes every day. Eventually he'd given up on trying to keep his uniform out of the dirty laundry after wearing it once.

Seeing his defeated look, Bulma knew she and her mother had won. Her grin broadened as she thrust her fist into the air. "Yes! Thanks, Vegeta. This is going to be awesome."

He glared at her for a moment before finishing his breakfast. He really had no idea what to expect from this… shopping trip. It didn't sound particularly pleasant, but if he would get new clothes out of the deal, maybe it would be worth the hassle. He didn't notice Dr. Brief sadly shaking his head as he considered the poor boy's fate.

Bulma ran to school shortly after breakfast, leaving Vegeta alone with her parents. It was a typical start to the day, but from what he gathered from the conversation at breakfast, it was the last day such a routine was going to take place for quite some time. From what he understood, the girl was going to be staying home every day for quite a while. While he didn't welcome having her around to bother him more often, he was looking forward to finishing the repairs on his scouter sooner than anticipated. It had been three weeks since he started putting it together, and meanwhile he and Bulma were rebuilding some of the parts. It took him a few days to convince her to continue helping him fix it after he told her it would help him get 'home' sooner, but eventually she gave in. It wasn't that he necessarily needed her help, but he had to admit progress was made much faster when she was assisting him. Also there were less chances of making mistakes that would ruin the whole thing when she was involved.

Vegeta excused himself from the table and went upstairs to his room to take a bath. He'd spent the morning training and changed his clothes before breakfast, but he was still sweaty. And when he was sweaty, he felt sticky, which was very unpleasant. He went into his bathroom and pulled his clothes off before getting into the bathtub and filling it with the hottest water he could get. He never really took baths before he came to live at Capsule Corporation. At least, not since he was still on his home planet. There were only showers on the lizard's ship, and those were freezing cold and had a time limit of two minutes. But baths, those were nice. He could soak in them for as long as he liked with steaming hot water that soothed his aching muscles and reminded him of home. Home, before he was taken away. Before it was destroyed.

He uncoiled his tail from his waist and allowed it to float to the surface of the water. He sighed in contentment and closed his eyes as the hot water washed away his aches and pains along with the dirt and grime covering his body. His bath was about the only time he had entirely to himself each day. He found that when he was in his bathroom, no one disturbed him. He figured it must be an earthling cultural norm to be given unquestioned privacy when he was in the bathroom. That was a luxury he couldn't complain about.

He took his tail in his hand and gently stroked it until he was sure it was clean. He was always gentle with his tail even though it had long since been desensitized. But his tail meant a lot to him. More than anything else. It was the one thing that differentiated him from every other race in the universe. The one thing that marked him as a saiyan. It was his source of pride, and it gave him the power of his transformation. He'd sooner lose an arm than his tail.

It was nearly an hour later when Vegeta climbed out of his bath. The water was no longer hot and he was tired of wasting time. He shook the excess water out of his flame of hair and whipped his tail once to dry its fur. He grabbed a towel off the rack on the door and finished drying himself off and got dressed. He was wearing the same thing he wore pretty much every day: a pair of shorts and a sleeveless shirt.

'I can't become accustomed to these comforts,' he reminded himself for what must have been the millionth time as he walked out of the bathroom. He could not let himself grow weak.

Vegeta walked out onto his balcony and looked down at the yard below. There were no humans meandering about, so he leaped into the air and flew away from the compound. He had no real destination in mind, but he was tired of being cooped up in the compound and wanted to get away for a while. He figured it might be a good idea to check up on his space pod. It had been over two weeks since the last time he went to see it, just to make sure it was still safe from discovery by humans. Working on it was pointless until he knew more about what he needed to do, so he was biding his time and focusing on getting his scouter working again first.

He dropped down to the ground next to his pod and paced around it, looking it over to make sure it was in the same condition he left it in. He nodded when he saw that it was as good as … it had been. No miraculous improvements were there. Not that he was expecting any, but he wouldn't protest if they came. He opened the hatch and sat down in the seat. He noticed it didn't feel quite the same as before. He was again reminded of the fact that he'd grown since arriving on the mudball.

'That's strange,' he thought. 'I should not have reached my growth spurt yet. Most saiyans start that when they reach thirteen years. I have two more to go before then. Unless my body is making up for lost time. It has been given an environment with sufficient nourishment and no life-threatening beatings. It makes sense that I would grow as much as possible during this time. I should have been this tall already, that is all.'

With a shrug, Vegeta got out of his space pod and sealed the hatch shut. There was no point in wasting more time with it for now, he couldn't do any work on it yet. He was reassured that it had not yet been discovered and so would be safe for another while before he could return to it. He levitated off the ground a few feet and looked around. He wasn't in the mood to go back to the compound, so he could spend some time exploring the planet. As long as he returned on time for lunch. He wouldn't miss lunch if he didn't have to.

He chose a direction at random and flew full speed, kicking up a cloud of dust as he sped over the ground. It was always exhilarating to fly so fast. He rarely had the opportunity because he had to take his time and make sure he wasn't missing a single life form that needed to be exterminated on a purge mission. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the feel of the wind gusting through his hair, whipping over his face, and small pieces of debris stinging as they beat against his skin. He uncurled his tail from his waist and let it fly freely behind him, intensifying the sensation of freedom. Even if it was only an illusion, he would take whatever feelings of freedom he could get.

'Someday,' he mused, 'I will truly be free. I will be the most powerful being in the universe, and no one will ever rule over me again. I will take my place as rightful lord of the universe, and people will be bowing down to me. The way it should be.'

He ascended higher into the atmosphere until the air was thin and cold, then dropped straight down. He twisted his body until he was facing the ground with his arms held at his sides, making him more aerodynamic. He loved the feeling of weightlessness as he plummeted to the ground. No ki holding him up, nothing. Just freefalling. He stopped himself when he was inches above the ground and flipped over so he landed on his feet.

'Will I actually miss this mudball when I leave it?" he wondered as he looked around at the vast plain of tall grass he was in. There were no signs of human life for miles. 'No, but I will miss being able to be me. I will miss not being watched every second of my life.'

He frowned and took to the air again. He'd spent enough time away from his work. He didn't have time for sightseeing, he needed to get his pod up and running as soon as possible and stop dreaming about the day he could fly when and where he wanted. It was time to return to reality and remember he had responsibilities. He was no ordinary child. He'd never had a childhood, not really. Even before he was taken as a slave he was being groomed for the throne of an entire race of warriors. That was no easy task. Then, at the age of five, he was stolen away from his kingdom and forced to be a soldier for the creature he hated. It was a life not worth living, but it was the only life he had.

Vegeta returned to the Capsule Corp compound right as lunch was being served. He ate his meal quickly and then went to his guestroom to continue working on his scouter. That was how he spent the rest of his afternoon until Bulma returned from her last day of school, in a mood even brighter than the one she left in. Before, she only had the eager anticipation of finishing her last day of seventh grade, but now it was finished and she had three months of no school to look forward to. She was, in a word, ecstatic.

Bulma ran upstairs and barged into Vegeta's room with a grin spreading from ear to ear. "Vegeta! I'm done with school for the summer!"

He whirled around in his chair and glared at her. "Why should I care?"

"Because, silly, that means I can hurry and finish fixing your communicator thing. And we can hang out more!" She broke into a fit of giggles and doubled over in her laughter. "I'm so happy to be done with freaking seventh grade. I hated it!"

'Lucky you, finding escape from the torment you find yourself in,' he thought bitterly.

"So anyway, what're you working on? I want to see what you've done today." Bulma skipped across his room and sat down in the empty chair next to Vegeta.

His eye twitched at her close proximity and chipper attitude, but he gained control of his unease and shoved the scouter over so she could see what he had been working on before she came in. She looked it over and saw that he was in the middle of programming the display to read the language he could read and she couldn't. She had to trust him that it was displaying correctly since she would never know one way or another. "Looks good, I think."

He nodded and pulled the scouter back over so he could finish what he was doing. It wouldn't take much longer, and then they could move on to reconnecting it to the proper radio frequency so Vegeta could finally send and receive messages from the technicians at Frieza's bases. It was the last step before he could finally start repairing his space pod. The whole process hadn't taken nearly as long as Bulma originally predicted because Vegeta was a fast learner and proved himself more than capable of getting lots of work done each day. All Bulma really did was guide him in what to do and correct any mistakes he may have made while she was away at school. She was secretly very much impressed with his ability to pick up on everything so fast. He was so smart she wondered if, maybe, rather than being almost as smart as she was, he was in fact smarter. But that was impossible.

When he was done programming the display, Bulma grabbed his arm and tried to pull him out of his chair, but he resisted. She was never able to make him budge an inch when he didn't allow her to. "Come on, it's time for your English lesson."

Vegeta rolled his eyes and stood up. He didn't really need English lessons anymore, but she insisted there was more for him to learn. If nothing else, he was expanding his vocabulary daily, which made communication much easier. He crossed his arms over his chest and followed her to her room where they sat down at her desk and started his lesson.

"So today I'm going to teach you about adverbial clauses and then more words. What words do you want to know? Maybe emotions? Like angry, sad, or content? I don't think we've gone over many of those yet, except the ones you needed at the time because you were feeling them. Or I've talked about being happy or sad or whatever."

He sighed as she prattled on, not really caring what she chose to 'teach' him for the day. He already knew the words she was rambling on about, but he would allow her to believe she was teaching him something new. At least then he wouldn't have to listen to her whining about how he was no fun to teach because he already knew everything. He'd already endured that particular complaint a few too many times for his liking.

"So I'm curious, Vegeta," Bulma said when they took a break from English. "How much math do you know? Have you learned algebra yet?"

"Algebra?"

"Oh. I guess you probably have a different word for it. It involves equations like this…" she explained as she started writing the quadratic equation out on a piece of paper. "I learned this a long time ago, but most kids learn it in eighth grade I think."

He snorted. "I learned that as soon as I could walk."

"Ok, you know it, that doesn't mean you have to exaggerate," she teased.

He quirked an eyebrow. "I wasn't."

Her smile died. "What do you mean?"

"I mean what I said."

"Liar. No one, and I mean no one, can learn algebra when they're babies!"

Vegeta shrugged and pulled the piece of paper closer and picked up the pencil. "Oh really? If that weren't true, how would I have ever been able to learn math like this?" He started writing out an equation that scrawled all the way across the paper. It took him some time since he had to translate his number system into hers so she could understand, but he left the symbols the same because they were just symbols and it didn't matter what language was used.

Bulma's eyes widened when he set the pencil down and slid the paper back to her. "What the heck is this?"

"It's the formula to determine the trajectory of an object of a given mass traveling beyond the speed of light when it enters a planet's atmosphere." He smirked smugly at her disbelief.

She swallowed and ran her hand through her blue hair. "Why would such a formula exist, even if that's true? Nothing can travel faster than light."

Vegeta nearly smacked himself for his carelessness. She still didn't know what he was and he preferred to keep it that way. Bragging about alien technology capable of doing things the humans had yet to develop was not the best way to conceal his secret. "It's all hypothetical."

"Right."

He took the paper back and wadded it up. "It doesn't matter. Point is, I'm way beyond algebra."

"Alright, I get it." Bulma sighed and leaned her chair onto its two back legs. "So what do you want to do after I teach you some new words?"

He shrugged. She'd gotten into the habit over the past three weeks of always asking that same question despite him never giving any definitive response. Sometimes he obliged her and went along with the activity she suggested, but most of the time he adamantly refused and returned to his room to tinker around with his scouter for the remainder of the night. But now that that was about done, he didn't feel the usual hurry to get it finished. Maybe tonight he would go along with doing something she wanted to do. He usually got a good laugh out of it when she would inevitably make a fool of herself in some way.

"You never suggest anything," she grumbled. "What do you do for fun when I'm gone?"

He raked his fingers through his hair as he thought about that. He didn't really do anything for the sake of pleasure. There was a purpose behind all his activities. But, if he had to choose one thing he enjoyed above the rest…

"Train."

"Train?"

"To fight."

"Oh. So you're pretty serious about fighting, huh? Like martial arts? What kind do you do? Karate? Taekwondo?"

He chuckled and shook his head. "Serious? It's my life. I practice a type of martial arts you wouldn't be familiar with."

"Oh. I suppose I couldn't really do it with you. I don't know the first thing about fighting."

"That's supposed to come as a surprise? You're pathetically weak."

"Hey!" she shouted, "Just because I'm not a muscle-bound thug doesn't mean I'm weak. For my age…"

"You couldn't hurt me if you tried."

"Is that a challenge?"

"Sure. Go ahead and hit me. Right here," he said, pointing to his jaw.

Bulma frowned and balled her hand into a fist. She wasn't sure this was a good idea, even if she couldn't hurt him after all. Was he trying to trick her somehow? "Are you sure you want me to do this?"

He nodded. "But your fist should be like this." He clenched his hand into a fist with his thumb on the outside unlike hers, which was held inside her fingers. "You don't want to break your thumb, idiot."

"Oh." Bulma imitated his fist and drew her arm back to strike him.

Vegeta held his chin up defiantly and smirked when her fist collided with his jaw. He hardly felt a thing, but she pulled her hand back and shook it violently. "Kami, what the heck are you made of?" she whined. "That hurt!"

"Stop your whining, brat," he snapped. "I told you, you couldn't hurt me if you tried."

Bulma pouted and shook her hand again. There were tingling sensations running up and down her fingers. "You could've told me it would feel like I'm hitting a brick wall."

"Would you have believed me?"

"Well, no. Probably not." She scowled at him and crossed her arms over her chest. "Still, you could've tried to convince me."

"Whatever. Obviously fighting isn't your forte." Vegeta stretched his arms over his head and yawned. He jerked back when he felt an elbow between his ribs. "What the hell?"

Bulma smiled smugly at him. "Shows what you know."

"Do not try picking a fight with me, girl. You wouldn't survive," he growled.

"So teach me how to fight."

"No."

"Why not? Scared I'll get better than you?"

"Not likely. I don't want to waste my time on a pathetic little weakling like you."

"I'm not weak!" she argued as she jumped out of her chair and started flexing her muscles. "See, I got lots of muscle."

"For an infant."

"Yeah? Well, let's see what you got."

He sighed and stood up facing her. He flexed his muscles for her to see and rolled his eyes when her jaw dropped. Of course he had lots of muscle. He was a saiyan warrior. Even if he hadn't even reached puberty yet, he was naturally muscular.

"Ok… so you're strong. But you've been fighting a long time, right? So teach me! I bet you're really good at it."

"Flattery will not get you anywhere."

Bulma frowned. He was always so stubborn. "Fine. But can I watch you train?"

"No."

"Why not?" she demanded, her hands automatically gravitating toward her hips.

"You wouldn't be able to see anything."

She scoffed. "As if you could really move that fast –"

"You were saying?"

She spun around on her heel and came face to face with the smirking boy. He crossed his arms over his chest and raised an eyebrow as he waited for an answer.

"How – how did you do that?" she shouted.

"I train to be able to do that."

Bulma huffed and turned around again. "Well, if you're so good why can't you teach me the basics at least? Wouldn't it be fun for you? You said you like training. Besides, I know you love making fun of me when I mess up, and I'm sure I'd mess up an awful lot."

"That's a given." Vegeta circled around her, looking her body up and down. There wasn't much to her. She was pitifully thin. She didn't appear to have an ounce of muscle on her. No, she certainly wasn't warrior material. She was nothing but a weak little girl.

For reasons she didn't know Bulma felt as though she were prey being stalked by some fearsome predator when he paced around her, scrutinizing her strength or lack thereof. "Well?"

"You wouldn't last one minute under my training," he concluded.

"Try me."

"Very well. Change into more appropriate attire and meet me in the indoor garden. That is where I usually do my morning training. Be ready for a hard workout, girl." Vegeta smirked and turned on his heel to leave her room. If she was so sure she could last, he was going to prove her wrong. She was always so cocky about her own abilities, lacking as they were. It was time he show her she wasn't capable of doing everything she thought she could do. Besides, she was right. He could glean a great deal of amusement out of her failed efforts.

Ten minutes later Bulma walked into the indoor garden and looked around for her new sensei. She honestly had no idea what to expect from him as her trainer. She didn't even have that much interest in fighting, but she was determined to find some common ground between them, and if she couldn't find any the old-fashioned way, she was going to create some. If that meant she had to take up fighting, then so be it. So far she had tried getting Vegeta interested in many different things – from board games to hot rods – but he was unimpressed with all of it. How could he not have any hobbies at all? It just wasn't normal. She knew he was a serious kind of guy, but did that mean he couldn't enjoy anything in life, other than laughing at her?

"Vegeta?" she called, "Are you in here?"

She heard some leaves rustling and then Vegeta dropped out of one of the nearby trees. He looked totally unfazed by the long fall as he straightened his back and walked over to her. She was again assaulted with a strange predatory look in his eyes as he approached her. She shifted her weight nervously from one foot to the other while she waited for him to say something.

"So, you're not a coward," he said. "Too bad for you."

She swallowed hard and nodded. "I'm ready for you to teach me."

He grinned evilly, revealing his long canine. "Brat, you have no idea what you're in for. You'll never be ready."

Bulma took a deep breath and released it slowly. She didn't want to let him get under her skin with mere words before they even started. Judging by how badly her hand hurt after punching him, he could effortlessly take her down in a fight, so she was reluctant to spar with him. She just wanted him to teach her the basic mechanics of fighting and go from there. She had no idea what he had planned though. She had to be ready for anything.

"I could teach you the way I learned," he said nonchalantly as he started circling around her again. "I learned through defending myself from a full-out attack." He drew his fist back and swung it at her face, stopping himself when his hand was an inch from her nose. She flinched and backpedaled away from him as he chuckled humorlessly.

"I – I don't think that method will work. For me," she stuttered.

"You are probably right," he conceded with a shrug. "You were not born with a natural talent for fighting like myself."

"Not really," she squeaked out. She was starting to think this was all a very bad idea.

"Then we will start with the basics of punching. Most fools think a punch is a punch, but there are many different ways to punch, like so." Vegeta clenched his hand into a fist and demonstrated a straight punch, a hook, and an uppercut. "Which punch you use depends on your position in the fight and what part of your opponent's body you are aiming for."

Bulma nodded, showing she was following him so far. It didn't look so hard when he showed her how to do it. She saw how he gave momentum to his punches by turning and twisting his body. If that was all there was to it, she'd have it mastered in no time. She smirked.

"Now try this one," Vegeta said as he showed her an uppercut again. He already explained what a fighter would use this type of punch for, but she hadn't been listening as her thoughts drifted to how she was going to show him up in his own game.

Bulma clenched her hand into a fist and threw her arm forward as she had seen Vegeta do twice now. She was rather pleased with herself until she saw the amusement dancing in her teacher's onyx eyes. He clearly wasn't too impressed with her form.

"Try it again. This time make it more vertical, like this." He showed her again how to properly execute an uppercut.

She did as she was told and after a few more tries had an acceptable uppercut. Vegeta smirked when she grinned with excitement. After doing it once she thought she was already ready to move on to the next lesson. He shook his head at her antics. "That was adequate. Now do it 300 more times with each arm. If you need me I'll be doing my own training on the other side of the garden." Before she could protest he was gone.

Bulma scowled and stamped her foot. This was no fun at all. He'd spent most of the time mocking her feeble attempts to throw a decent punch and now he told her to do it a ridiculous number of times while he went off and did only Kami knows what. She felt rage bubbling through her veins and started practicing her uppercut, imagining each one hitting Vegeta square in the jaw and knocking him off his feet.

It took Bulma nearly two hours to finish practicing her uppercuts. She had to take several breaks at increasing frequency by the end because her arm and shoulder were getting tired and sore. She never would have thought an exercise so simple could ever be so tiring, and she was surprised that it not only made her break a sweat, but she was sweating quite profusely. After the fiftieth punch she wanted to quit, but she knew that quitting would only prove Vegeta right. And so she grit her teeth and forced herself through her given task, trying to repeat the correct form each time.

"Bulma, are you in here, honey? Have you seen Vegeta? Dinner is ready!" Bulma sighed with relief when she heard her mother summoning them to eat. She was rather hungry.

"Coming, Mom!"

Bulma ran to the door and glanced over her shoulder to see if Vegeta was on his way. She didn't see him coming. That was strange. Typically food was the only thing he wouldn't hesitate to run for. She figured he probably didn't hear the dinner announcement, so she started walking to the other side of the garden through the trees to find him and tell him.

"Vegeta?"

She yelped as she fell back to avoid being hit. She was about to start screaming at him to watch what he was doing, but then she noticed what he was doing and fascination replaced her anger. She watched him as he fought an imaginary opponent, leaping through the trees, blocking unseen blows, and retaliating with his own. He never paused for breath as he seemed to turn fighting into an art form the likes of which she had never seen before. Had she not known what he was doing, she might have mistaken his smooth, graceful movements for a dance. Perhaps that was what it was: A vicious dance where the two partners are trying to beat each other up. Bulma's jaw dropped when he phased out of sight and reappeared several yards away in less than a second. But that was surely impossible, wasn't it?

She cleared her throat loudly to try and gain his attention, but he didn't notice her. He just kept fighting furiously, as if his life depended on it. Bulma's stomach growled, reminding her of the reason she sought him out in the first place. She pushed herself up to her feet and patted the dirt off her shorts.

"Vegeta!" she screamed.

He immediately stopped in the middle of a sweep kick and turned to scowl at her. "What could possibly have possessed you to interrupt my training?" he yelled.

Bulma frowned and crossed her arms. "Dinner's ready, you ungrateful jerk!"

Vegeta grumbled as he followed the blue-haired girl out of the garden and through the halls to the kitchen. He resented the disruption in his training, but if there was one thing he would always stop for, it was one of Mrs. Brief's home-cooked meals.

"So," he asked patronizingly once they were seated at the kitchen table, "How did your training go, girl?"

Bulma sneered at him. "I finished."

He snickered and started serving himself. "And you want to continue?"

Bulma hesitated before answering. She didn't want to admit she didn't have a bit of fun. She didn't want him to know she was absolutely miserable the whole time. But she wouldn't give up so easily. As long as he was willing to teach her, she would suck it up and keep going. Who knows? She might even learn to like it. Especially if she could get as good as him someday. In her mind's eye she replayed Vegeta's training and wondered how it was possible to ever get that good and be so fast she couldn't even track his movement. It was mind-boggling.

"Of course I do," she replied. "That was easy."

"What was easy, dear?" Mrs. Brief asked when she sat down at the table with the last dish of food. She was always interested to know what her daughter was up to, especially when it was something to do with their guest. He was such a nice boy, she was glad to see them getting along so well.

"He's teaching me how to fight," Bulma beamed.

"Oh, my," Mrs. Brief said, her hand covering her mouth, "That sounds dangerous. Please be careful, honey."

"It's ok, Mom," Bulma reassured her mother. "It's not like he's going to beat me up."

He smirked. This was going to be fun. If she thought she could handle his training, he was going to show her otherwise. Weak little girl, she had no idea what she was getting herself into.

A/N: Addressing reviews...

Goku will not appear for quite a while, and his first appearance is minimal. Yes, there is action coming up, but you're going to have to wait a few more chapters. I promise it's worth the wait. Thank you for the encouragement and congratulations as I finish my undergraduate classes, and good luck to all of you going through the same thing!