1920's Terms
Blind Date: Going out with someone you do not know
Doll: An attractive woman
Cake-Eater: A lady's man
Flapper: The modern woman of the 1920s
Dry Up: Shut up, get lost
Bearcat: A fiery girl
Dumb Dora: An absolute idiot, a dumbbell, especially a woman; flapper
Speakeasy: A bar selling illegal liquor
Zozzled: Drunk
Ofay: An offensive term for a white person used by black people

As Bulma went from store to store, looking for a cute new dress, she was not in the best of moods at the moment. Since Piccolo had kept Launch at work and Chi-Chi was busy doing house work, she had to go shopping by herself. It wasn't the fact that she was alone that pissed her off, but it was the people around her.

Every time her and Yamcha broke up, she'd attract the attention of everybody in town. She always made sure always made sure to be with Launch or Chi-Chi when she went out, as they were her shields that deflected the wandering eyes of the public. So, as the blue-haired woman roamed the streets, she could feel the pressure of every hateful glare and every lustful stare that had been directed towards her. It made her want to squirm away in discomfort, but she instead stood tall and moved along, no wanting to show how they got to her.

When the blue haired woman had been younger, she'd have loved being the centerpiece stuck on people minds. Each woman desired to be her, while each man desired to have her. But as she grew older, she had started to understand how all the people truly looked her. It was always when she and Yamcha were apart that she was the focus of the females who liked to sing a lot of chin music, spreading rumors around like butter on a piece of bread. The woman weren't only jealous of her, but they wanted to throw into the flaming pits of hell and watch her skin melt off as she burned alive.

Surprisingly, the men were ten times worse. She couldn't even count the number of men who hounded her during the separation periods. They all wanted to be the man that managed to sweep her up and receive a declaration of love from her like a princess that had been recused by a brave knight, with the gratefulness that made one think it was love at first sight. She rolled her eyes at the mere thought. She didn't need to be rescued by some man who probably didn't even have to courage to see her when she was mad.

That wasn't even what pissed her off the most when it to both all the horny men and bitchy women in the city. Sure, she was annoyed about that they didn't treat her as a human being, a common whore held more worth in their eyes compared to her, but she was mostly mad at the reason they treated her this way. It wasn't for her personality, hell, it wasn't even for her beauty.

The only reason she got this much attention from people was because she was Bulma fucking Briefs. The women scorned her because she "the Briefs' girl". The men lusted over her because she was "the Briefs' girl". They only saw her name rather than the woman behind it. That's all they would ever see of her. The few people who truly treated her like a normal person were the members of the Z-gang. They grew up with her, knowing that she was more than just a label.

The blue haired woman was ripped out of her thoughts when an arm suddenly wrapped itself around her waist. She snapped her head to the right to find the smirking face of an overconfident man who stared at her as though she was a piece of meat. It only took a couple of seconds for her to recognize who the man was. She had gone on a blind date with him a few nights. She instantly narrowed her eyes in disgust, recalling that she had never wanted to see him again.

"Hey doll, how've ya been?" The man, who Bulma couldn't be bothered remember the name of, arrogantly asked. He had spun her around and dragged her torso closer to his, only a few inches were separating them. She could feel his murky breath on her face and one of his hand as it moved towards her behind. Closing her eyes, she let an irritated sigh escape her lips and pushed the man's body away so that there was at least an arms length of distance between the two. Now with astonishment coating his eyes, the perverted man didn't let her answer his previous question and continued to talk as though nothing happened. "You never called back, so I thought I would come to you instead."

The woman's arm crossed over her chest. "Most take that as a sign that the person is not interested in seeing them again."

"That obviously ain't the case here. The thing is sweetie, ever girl wants me."

"Congrats then, you found the one girl who doesn't want you. Me." Bulma replied with a huff, storming away from the man. All he had been doing on their date was voraciously flirting with other woman or attempting to get her in bed. Now, she would be lying if she said that she was still an virgin and was waiting till marriage to sleep with a man, but she certainly didn't want to get anywhere close to that man and a bed. She wasn't all that interested in sleeping with a cake-eater like that asshole, or any type of man for that matter at the moment. She had already lost innocence to Yamcha, which was the best she had ever had. She had slept around with a few others during their break periods, but none had topped her first. Even Yamcha couldn't top their fist time together. They were all the same in her mind. Once you've been with one man, they're all the same, she told herself.

The blue haired woman hadn't even gotten ten feet away before the man's hand latched onto her wrist and yanked her back towards him. She could see the anger welling up in this eyes as a passive aggressive smile sprouted from his lips. Oh great, he's one of those men. As if he heard her thoughts, the man's grip tighten around her wrist and induced a twinge. She let out a small whimper as she tried to wriggle out of the man's clutch, but it only caused the pain to increase. She would definitely have a bruise tomorrow morning.

She looked around to see if anyone would try to help her. They acted as though they hadn't even noticed her struggling.

"Listen here. No girl has ever turned me down, especially not some flapper like you." He spat in the face.

"Well then that can't be true because I just did." She tried to turn her face away from his, but his free hand had shot out and clutched her chin. He forced her to look him in the eyes.

"Now you listen to me, I don't care you are or what you say, you are mine. Got it bit—"

"Why don't you just fucking dry up already." A voice dispassionate interrupted the enraged man. Though she could not see the person, she could tell that it was a masculine voice.

As confusion overtook the two, the man's grasp on her wrist had softened enough for her to pull away from him. Being able to move around, Bulma swirled towards the direction that the voice had come from, wanted to now who had decided to intervene. She could honestly say that just by looking at the figure, it wasn't someone she had expected.

It appeared to be another man who was standing a few feet away from the two, but was facing towards the street to the left of them. Fro what she could tell (since she only see the side of his body) he didn't seem to be a happy-go-lucky man. Even with his eyes sealed shut, his face was set into a permanent scowl. A cigar hung from his lips, the smoke circling around him. His right hand was buried into the pocket of his trench coat, and she assumed that the other hand was as well. He had to only be a few inches taller than her, but his hair made him look taller. His hair was absolutely gravity-defying. Sure, she could same about Goku's hair, though his stuck up in all different place. This man's hair, however, was the shape of a inked flame as it pointed towards the heavens. He also massive widow's peak that look more like an m. Have realized that she had been staring for a while, but she wouldn't dare to take her eyes away from him.

"Why don't you go mind your own damn business." The man from before uttered, breaking the woman out of her hypnotic state. She suddenly noticed that a crowd of people had encircle the three of once uninterested civilians that couldn't bother to be concerned by her dilemma. When she turned her head back to the mysterious man, he had moved from his spot, placing himself between the her and man. Even with his back to her, she noticed that his hand unburied itself from his pocket and lifted to the cigar. He took a long drag before tossing it to the ground.

"I was minding my own damn business, but you and that annoying woman decided to have your little lover's spat in a public, which in-turn has pissed me off." There was an underlaying anger that as the flame haired man spoke.

"For one, this isn't a lover's spat, there is no way in hell that you could ever get me to love someone like him. And second, you didn't just call me annoying! No one calls me annoying! Do you even know who I am!" Burma seethed in response to the man. She didn't care if he had helped her out, she wouldn't let some stranger come in and insult her while she was there.

The mysterious man turned to face her. His ebony orbs stared at her with more intensely then any had before. As his eyes roamed over her body she found that his gaze was not one of lust, but of a predator looking at their prey. There was not hint of emotion in his eyes, remained cold and stern.

After about a minute of him staring, he finally said something to her. "Should I know who you are?"

The entire crowd had gasped at the question and began to whisper amongst themselves. It had most certainly taken Bulma by surprised. Everyone in West City knew who she was… unless he wasn't from West City? The mysterious man didn't seem take notice of what the surrounding people and just went back to talking to the asshole.

"Listen, who wants an obvious bearcat like her when you could have a that dumb Dora across the street. She seems to be more your type anyway." The pervert man, too confused by the situation, walked off. He sent a nasty glare to the blue haired and the stranger. She watched him leave, smirking in approval. The circle of people had dispersed as well, knowing that there would be nothing interesting know. She was about to thank the man when she noticed that he had disappeared as well.

As Bulma went back to he shopping, only one thought invaded he mind. Who was he?

(***)

Piccolo stood behind the bar and was making drinks as Launch walked through the tables with a tray of alcohol, the afternoon drinking crowd having started to file in. He had sent Gohan to the private lounge a while ago, knowing it would attract unwanted attention to have a five year old boy out in the open of a speakeasy. Goku had told him that he would be a back to pick up Gohan in an hour or two, but that had been three or four hours ago.

Where is that sap? Piccolo thought to himself.

Suddenly, a loud shout bounced off the walls of bar, interrupting his work. Piccolo looked up to find Launch had grabbed a male customer's wrist twist it around so the man couldn't move it. If she twisted it anymore then he was sure that she would break the man's arm. A sigh escaped his lips as he went back to making drinks. If he didn't stop her, he was sure that all hell would break loose.

"Launch, you better stop before you really injure the man." He said sternly. He didn't care if the man got hurt or not, but he didn't want a bar fight to breakout. Launch let go of the man and treaded back to Piccolo in a huff, her blood was boiled in her body. She slammed her tray down on the countertop, glaring at the bartender. Piccolo glanced up briefly at her before returning to his work. "What happened this time?" He whispered, making sure no of the customers had heard him.

"So the man asked for the last drink on the tray I was holdin'. So, like the nice gal I am, I went to give it to him. Instead of taking the drink, he grabbed my ass." She whispered back, trying to calm down by taking deep breathes. It wasn't working. "Why do men seemingly become perverts when they're zozzled?"

"I don't think he's zozzled. He's been staring at you since he's walked in the Nimbus. He's just a crazy ofay." The bartender knew he wasn't making the blonde woman happy, but it was the truth. He could tell that the woman was about to attack the man, but was stopped as a small figure had walked behind the bar with them. A tiny hand had latched onto his pant leg, trying to capture his attention. He peered down to see the little boy, looking like he had just woken up from a nap and was still tried because of it. "What is it Gohan?"

"I heard someone screaming and got concerned. Is everything alright Mr. Piccolo?" His innocent eyes bore into Piccolo's. Even at such a young age, he put his needs before others.

Before the bartender had a chance to answer, a man who had groped the woman strolled up to the counter and had seen Gohan. He let out a chuckle, his hand covering his mouth like a school girl telling her friends a secret. Once he had finished his giggle fit, he decided to speak for bartender. "I'm fine kid. A woman is not gonna do that much damage to me. But why don't you come sit down over here, I'm sure I'm a far better conversationalist than that negro."

No one had a chance to sink in what the man had said before Piccolo had grabbed him by the shirt front and pulled so that the two were face to face. If looks could kill, then the man would he been dead the moment he uttered a word. The bartender, fist clenched with frustration, slowly trailed his arm backwards, getting ready to knock the man's socks off. Just as the negro was about to launch his punch, a hand had caught his arm. A voice cut through the tension.

"You know it would be bad for business if you punch our customers."

Piccolo turned his head to see Goku had suddenly appeared. Probably walked in through the backdoor in the lounge. The two stared at each other, letting the man go in the progress. The man scampered off, vowing to never come to this place again. Gohan ran up to his father and wrapped both of his arms around leg. Launch had just gone back to serving, acting as though nothing had actually happened.

Goku ended their staring contest when he decided to speak up. "What the hell happened here?" The negro explained about what the man had done to Launch and what he had said to Gohan. The man, quickly absorbing the conversation that he had just heard, scratched the back of his head, his usual goofy grin spreading across his face. "Well, at least he got what he deserved. Anyway, there's two crates of liquor in the lounge if we need to restock. Yamcha should be delivering the rest."

"So what took you so long?" Piccolo asked

"We got a flat tire on the way back and we had to make sure that no cops saw what we were carrying."

"Why didn't ya just get Krillin to help y'all out?"

"We didn't know where Krillin was. And calling the police station to ask where he was would look suspicious. Anyhow, I gotta get spend some quality time with my little guy over here. I'll see ya tomorrow." Goku ended the conversation. He pulled his son off his leg and placed him on top of his shoulder. Gohan held onto his father's head as they started to head out of the establishment.

Before the two head completely existed, the small boy had piped up. "Goodbye Mr. Piccolo." As soon as his face disappeared, all the men in the bar started to roar with laughter, conversing about what had just happened. The bartender only heard snip its of what they talked about, most saying that the boy must of been an idiot for talking to a negro or the father must be crazy for trust the negro to watch the boy.

Piccolo just continued with his work, making drinks for Launch to serve. He always tried to ignore the patrons whenever they where talking about him being a negro. He knew they felt uncomfortable with him working behind the bar, he knew some where even more uncomfortable about Launch working at the bar. He what he didn't know was why Goku had even hired him in the first place. That was the one man he could never truly figure out. He didn't seem to listen to what others who weren't his friends or family had to say. He was an outsider amongst the people in West City, though he thought that about everyone in the Z-gang.

As Piccolo looked but towards the crowd of people who were drinking there hearts way, a small smirk crossed his face. "Crazy ofays."

A/N: Hey guys, I'm back with another update. I decided to update twice in April because I didn't really update in March. While it was a technicality, since it was update at like one o'clock on April 1st, but that's still not March so I felt I would be nice and update twice this month. That, and I was really excited to write like first half of this chapter. Anyhow, don't usually expect me to update twice in one month, since it usually takes me a while to figure out specific details. I'll have the outline for the chapter planned, but that's it.

On another note, I want to be clear about something. I am not a racist or sexist. Hell, I'm a woman so I don't know if you can be sexist towards your own gender. I feel as though some people, after this chapter, while believe that I am. All I'm trying to do is portray the time. Since women evolved a lot in the 1920's, I was trying to show Bulma off as an independent woman. Since racism is still a big issue in today's world, I was trying to show that Piccolo deals with all of that crap and is in turn a little racist himself. I just hope people don't misunderstand. Again, I am not a racist or sexist.

Anyhow, some of you will notice that I still haven't given the name of are totally mysterious (and in no way completely obvious) character. See the original plan was for it to be the same interaction, but the third P.O.V would have been on him rather than Bulma. I changed it because it didn't like the way it flowed. It felt unnatural and OOC for the way it was originally planned. I believe he will be revealed in about two to three chapters from now, so y'all only need to be a little more patient.

Like in last chapters A/N, if anyone loves to draw and would be interested in doing a cover for this story, please PM about it because I can't draw for shit. I would absolutely love the person who did this for me forever. I don't like the cover for the story now, since it has nothing to do with the story its self, and would like one that is a better fit, but I don't really have connections with any DBZ artists. All I'm trying to say is please help!

Please leave a review or follow/favorite this story because it let's me know that y'all care. I'll also write faster if y'all do so. With all that said (or typed in this case), I'll see y'all all next chapter!