Bulma wouldn't stop cackling. She had tears in her eyes and had to stop pouring the orange juice into the champagne. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. But I would've given anything to see his face after you punched him. I bet he wasn't even expecting that you'd do it! That's the thing about men, you gotta call them on their bluffs." She reclined in her chair and called out to Yamcha who was doing one-handed push-ups out by the pool. "Isn't that right, honey?"

"You got it, babe!"

Bulma turned back to Hana. "He doesn't even know what we're talking about."

Hana sighed with an amused resignation. "What do you think I should do, though? Now he wants to train me."

"Of course he does," Bulma snorted. She resumed her juice pouring and slid her guest another full glass. "It's always training with these boys. Every last one of them. I suppose the only way to get any time alone with them would be to start training too. Figures."

Hana sipped her drink and thought. Bulma had a good point. One-on-one lessons with Piccolo wasn't exactly a bad thing, even if his efforts to train her would be wasted.

"In any case," Bulma continued, "you should take him up on his offer. I mean you wanna get closer to him, right? With Piccolo, I doubt there's a better method."

Hana smudged a bit of lipgloss from the rim of her glass. "I just think he's going to end up disappointed, that's all. I'm really not sure I've got any latent power for him to work with."

"Well, you might surprise yourself."

"Maybe."

Yamcha jumped up to his feet and grabbed a towel off the back of a poolside chair. "Whatcha girls talking about?" he asked, mopping the sweat from his brow and neck. He came over to kiss the top of Bulma's head.

"I'm just giving Hana some relationship advice."

He made a face. "Ew. I'm gonna grab a beer."

"And take a shower while you're at it," Bulma said to him as he left.

Hana watched Yamcha trek back across the finely-manicured grass and into the great domed house. When Bulma invited her over for mimosas she had no idea her host was actually Bulma Briefs, a member of the wealthiest family in the city and possibly the world. The sprawling compound boasted a hotel-sized pool, a full bar, landscaped putting greens, exquisite flower gardens, high-tech lab facilities, and of course the house was enormous. There was another spherical building off by the gardens, and just as Hana noticed it the door lifted open and a grouchy-looking man with tall dark hair made his exit.

"Vegeta!" Bulma hollered. The man scowled in their direction but came over just the same. He was breathing hard and sweating buckets, no doubt having just finished some training regimen of his own. "Vegeta, this is Hana. Hana, Vegeta."

If it hadn't been for Bulma's Namek stories, Hana would've screamed. Here he was, one of the invading Saiyans from television, in the flesh. He seemed different somehow. His resting expression wasn't quite as cold as before. Maybe Earth had been good to him. "Hi, good morning," Hana said, reaching out for a handshake.

He just stared at her.

"Sorry," said Bulma, "Hana, this is jerkface."

Vegeta crossed his arms. "Getting drunk before noon is a great look for you, woman."

Bulma narrowed her eyes at him. "Someone just talked their way out of a mimosa."

Suddenly Vegeta turned his sneer to Hana and shoved a finger at her. "Wait a second. Hana. I remember that name. Baldie and his little girlfriend were here the other day and I could swear you were the topic of some rather scintillating gossip."

"Be nice, Vegeta," Bulma warned.

"What?" he said in mock innocence. "I was only going to segue into a comment about the pitiable taste in men you Earth women have. Lousy Kakarot has that shrew wife of his, you're chasing after Yamcha for some unfathomable reason, Krillin's girl could do a thousand times better without trying, and now this mousy librarian wants to bed the Namek. Unbelievable." He shook his head and laughed under his breath.

Hana wished she had some of Piccolo's training already under her belt. "It's…not even like that," she managed to spit out, heat rising in her cheeks. Was everyone and their dog going to find out about her feelings for Piccolo before he did?

Bulma got to her feet. In her heels she had at least a good three inches on Vegeta. "You're acting like the prince of all dicks," she said. "You almost sound jealous."

"Jealous? Ha!" He swiped her mimosa and downed it in one quick gulp. A visible cringe of disgust crawled across his skin. "Ugh, must everything on this planet taste like sewage?" He tossed the glass over his shoulder and into the pool.

"Hey!" Bulma grabbed a fistful of his sweaty shirt and got up in his face. "Get that outta my pool. Right. Now."

For a minute there Hana feared Vegeta would attack, but after a lengthy battle of glares he backed down with an indifferent snort. "Fine. I could use a dip anyway." And he dove into the pool and settled to the bottom. When he came up again, he was holding two halves of the glass. "It broke."

"Is that all the pieces?" Bulma asked, taking them. "Are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure."

Bulma fit the two shards together and seemed content that he was telling the truth. "All right, come on out."

"I'll get out when I damn well please, woman." Vegeta stubbornly treaded water. He was just shy of the shallow end but his toes couldn't touch. "It just…happens to be now." He hoisted himself over the edge of the pool. His snug training clothes clung to him even tighter now as he made a puddle by Bulma's shoes.

"Do me a favor and dry off before you go inside," she said.

"Fine, fine." Vegeta huffed in irritation. Before either woman could think to stop him, he peeled off his shirt and pants.

"AH!" Hana covered her eyes and started howling with laughter. "It's not even lunchtime and I've already seen a stranger's penis!"

Bulma looked absolutely livid but her pink cheeks and half-giggled words betrayed her. "Vegeta, just go! Go inside! And for Kami's sake don't sit on anything until you're dressed!"

Vegeta marched off towards the house with his head held high. "Enjoy the show," he shouted back at them. Against her better judgment Hana snuck a peek at his ass as he paraded away. Bulma was peeking too.

"I'm so sorry about him," she said.

"He's certainly a character." Hana got the last of the funnies out of her system and finished her mimosa. "By the way, when he was going on about our poor taste in men that would've been the perfect time to announce your crush on him."

Bulma's eyes narrowed at Hana this time. "I'll have you know I'm almost thirty years old. I don't get 'crushes' on anyone."

"I'm not hearing a denial…"

"All right, so what if I do?! You saw him just now, he's so fiery and unpredictable and he's got abs I wanna wash my panties on."

"That ass isn't half bad either."

They looked at each other and busted out laughing again. Hana couldn't remember the last time she'd laughed so hard. She also couldn't remember the last time she'd been so tipsy. How many drinks had she had…?

Bulma wiped a tear from her eye and checked her watch. "Uh-oh, don't you have to go teach Gohan in an hour?"

"Oh, crap, the bus." Hana rushed to stand up, which was a big mistake. Her legs refused to hold her and she plopped back down in her seat. "Woah. Did I really get drunk?"

The bottle of champagne was nearly empty. They'd managed to polish it all off in just under two hours. "Forget the bus," said Bulma. "I've got a few drivers on stand-by. I'll have one of them take you over to the Son house, no worries. In the meantime, maybe I should get you something to eat."

And so minutes later Hana found herself in the Briefs' spacious kitchen, sitting like a blob on a barstool, eating crackers and some fancy cheese she'd never heard of.

"So sorry," said Bulma, pouring her a small cup of ice water. "I should've remembered you were a cheap date. Sometimes I forget I'm a bit of a lush and not everyone can keep up with me."

"It's cool," Hana said. She was already feeling slightly less drunk with some food in her belly. The last thing she wanted was for Gohan to see her like this. Or worse, Chi-Chi. After a few more crackers she turned to her host. "Hey Bulma…in all seriousness, what do you think I should do…y'know, about Piccolo?"

"Go for it," she replied without missing a beat. "Do the training. You're just gonna regret it if you don't."

"True…"

"And if you're worried about disappointing him, don't be. Piccolo worked magic with Gohan. He definitely seems to have a way of getting the results he wants."

Hana shoved some more cheese into her mouth. Just what kind of results was Piccolo after exactly? The thought sent her champagne-addled mind racing and it was all she could think of until Bulma's driver arrived.

.

.

Pulling up at the Son House no more than three minutes late, Hana staggered out of the car and thanked the driver. The front door opened before she could even knock. Chi-Chi had her cooking apron on and wore a stressed expression. "Oh, Hana," she said, "I've been trying to call you all morning."

"You have?" Hana checked her phone. "I'm so sorry, I never switched it off silent when I woke up. What's going on?"

Chi-Chi clasped her hands together. "Gohan's come down with the flu and I've got him confined to bed today. Since you're here you can come in and say hello, but I don't think he'll be up for lessons today, the poor thing."

Hana followed her inside. The house was so dark and quiet, the polar opposite of where she'd just been. She didn't mind it, though. The lack of light helped alleviate the steady pounding building behind her eyes. Was she getting hung over already? She really was a lightweight…

The door to Gohan's bedroom was slightly ajar and she peered inside. The boy lay with his back to the door, bundled so deep in blankets she barely saw his mop of black hair. "Gohan," she whispered, walking in. He stirred and rolled over. "Hey, kiddo. Your mom said you're sick. How do you feel?"

"Not great." He sounded awful, like grating sandpaper. "Are you…still gonna teach me?"

"No, not today. Your mom wants you to rest. And I agree."

"Darn…" He coughed and reached for the glass of water on the nightstand. After a quick drink he said, "Can I ask a favor, Miss Hana?"

"Of course."

"Did you bring the history book? I was hoping to read ahead…"

Hana smiled. Even sick like this, he was still so eager to learn. If asked, she would never claim a favorite student from over the years, but in this moment Hana knew for sure it was Gohan. "It's in my bag, but let's save it for when you're feeling better."

"Pleeeeease?" He looked up at her with those big eyes. "Mom's not letting me do anything. I'm sooooo bored..."

His pleading finally got to her and she pulled the hefty textbook from her backpack. "Fine, but keep it out of sight. I don't wanna get in trouble with your mom, okay?"

Gohan excitedly shoved it under his pillow. "Thanks, Miss Hana." He laid down again and yanked the covers to his chin. "I think I'm gonna sleep now."

"Good idea. I'll let you nap." By the time Hana zippered up her bag and slung it over her shoulder, the boy had started to nod off. She resisted the urge to plant a little kiss on his forehead. She didn't want to wake him.

Leaving the door open a crack, Hana went to the kitchen to see if Chi-Chi needed any help. "Oh no," the woman said, "I'm just making some soup for later. Tell you what, though, I've got some bedsheets hanging out back that are probably dry by now, if you don't mind folding them for me."

"Sure thing!" Hana left her stuff and went to the backyard. Crisp white sheets billowed in the afternoon breeze, straining the clothespins keeping them on the line. She gathered the fabric between her fingers and squeezed. Seemed dry. She spent the better part of a half hour unpinning the bedsheets and fighting to fold them into respectable squares to lay neatly into the laundry basket.

Hana gave the last folded sheet a pat and went to lift the basket. Something white fluttered in her peripheral vision. Did she miss one?

When she looked, it was gone. She turned back. Now the basket was gone.

"Need a hand?"

Hana whirled on her heel and saw him. "Jeez, Piccolo," she said, putting a hand to her chest, "you scared me."

"Sorry." He shrugged, the laundry basket under one of his bulky arms. His demeanor had improved somewhat from the last time she'd seen him, she thought. A weariness still hung about him, however, and his eyes were tired. "Where do you need this?"

"Just by the back door is fine."

Piccolo set it down for her. "So is Gohan all right? Usually you two are hard at work right about now."

"He's sick," said Hana. "Poor kid's trying to sleep it off."

"Sick?" Piccolo's brow lifted in surprise. "Must be quite the bug to infect a half-Saiyajin. Maybe I should wait to see him."

"I thought you didn't get sick," said Hana.

"I didn't think Gohan got sick either. Guess there's a first time for everything."

"Guess so."

Piccolo rubbed idly at the bridge of his nose. Hana noticed how well he had healed. There wasn't even a bruise, if he had bruised at all. Craning her neck to look at him made her head throb even harder. She must've let it show because Piccolo leaned in to see her more closely. "You're not sick too, are you?" he asked.

"No, uh…just a headache."

Piccolo extended his hand and his canteen materialized from nothing. "It's getting hotter out lately. You need to stay hydrated."

"Thanks." She pulled the cork with a audible pop and brought the bottle to her lips. The water was cool and tasted fresh. She imagined Piccolo flying high into the mountains and refilling his canteen from the icy streams. Just what did he do with his free time, anyway? With a wipe of her mouth, she tried to give the water back.

"Keep it," he said. "Drink it all. It'll help."

Hana clutched the canteen to her heart. "That's sweet of you." He started to turn away, but she reached out and nabbed a pinch of his cape. "Hey, um. Since I'm free this afternoon and the weather's nice I was thinking I might go for a walk. Do you…wanna come with me?"

A bit of color appeared on Piccolo's ears. "Come with you?"

"Yeah. I won't go far, just down along the river a ways."

Piccolo seemed at a loss, and it occurred to Hana then that perhaps he'd never been invited on a walk before. Then again, why go for a walk when you can fly? Suddenly she just felt stupid for asking and was about to let him off the hook when he cleared his throat and said, "S-sure. I'll go."

If it weren't for the hangover, Hana would've leapt for joy.

.

.

They walked side by side, Hana by the edge of the river and Piccolo struggling to slow himself to match her natural pace. The canteen was nearly empty and they hadn't even gone a mile yet. "Hey Piccolo, can I ask you something kinda personal?" said Hana.

"I suppose."

"How did you and Gohan end up so close?"

Piccolo smiled as if recalling a fond memory. "His father died." Hana started to say something but he cut her off. "I know, I know, but it was an honorable death. And in the long run, it's difficult to feel much remorse for what happened. After he was killed, I took Gohan into the wilds and trained him for a year."

"But—wh-why would do you that?"

"You know why." He grew serious again. "You saw most of their attack on television."

Hana bit her lip. "The Saiyans." She fiddled with the canteen's cork. "Y'know, Bulma told me you died for Gohan once. Was it during that fight? After the news cameras were taken out?"

"Yes."

Hana hoped he wouldn't tell her how it happened. She wasn't sure she could handle it. "Sorry, I probably shouldn't have said anything, but—"

"No, it's all right, I don't mind." His voice was a little gentler now. "I have no regrets about the choice I made."

She grinned up at him. "You really love Gohan, don't you?"

The tops of his ears went purpleish again and he refused to answer.

The lull in the conversation gave Hana the opportunity she was waiting for. She stopped in her tracks. "Listen, Piccolo…about what you said the other night." He came to stand beside her, towering over her. Sometimes she forgot just how big he was, and just how small she felt around him. "If you really want to train me, I'd be okay with that. I'm just not exactly sure what it is I'm gonna be able to do. And I don't want you to waste your time on me."

"It wouldn't be a waste," he said. "Not with you."

Her eyes misted over at his sudden sincerity. Did he have any idea what he did to her when he spoke like that?

"We can start your training today," he graciously continued.

Hana blinked away tears and scratched the back of her neck. "You mean right now?" She'd dressed for a leisurely morning at Bulma's, not an afternoon spent getting her butt kicked. "But Piccolo, I'm not—"

"It won't be anything intense just yet. We'll start out slow with some meditation."

"Oh…okay, yeah." She'd never attempted to meditate before, but she was willing to try.

They came to a grassy spot beneath a great shady willow. Piccolo hefted the cape off his shoulders and removed his turban. His antennae bounced right back into position as if they'd never been smashed up against his forehead. "Come sit here," he said, taking a seat cross-legged on the grass. Hana sat a respectable distance away, wanting to give him some space, but he patted the earth behind him. "Here. Back to back."

Hana hesitated. "Are you sure?"

"It'll work best like this."

She moved and settled in against his broad torso.

"Now," said Piccolo, his voice vibrating through her, "close your eyes and find a good resting position for your arms." He crossed his over his chest as usual. Hana let her arms hang and she clasped her hands together in her lap.

"Got it," she said.

"From this moment on, I want you to listen to the river. Allow it to guide your thoughts astray. Follow where it leads. The point is not to void yourself of thought but to allow your consciousness the freedom to explore."

With the echo of his voice still in her head, Hana focused on the sound of the rushing water. She tried to block out everything else—the birds chirping, the wind in the branches, the thumping of her heart, the pain in her temples. She felt the muscles of his back expand and contract with each slow, even breath. How was this positioning meant to help her focus? He might as well have asked her to meditate as he slowly undressed.

"No, no, you're breathing too fast," he said. "Match my speed."

"I-I'll try." Piccolo's rhythm never faltered. For a long while Hana breathed along with him, her eyes drawing closed.

Eventually her limbs felt heavy, her head light, as if the two halves of her body were being drawn in opposite directions. A deep calm enveloped her then. All she could hear was the river. All she could feel was Piccolo's steady breathing. She relaxed into the warmth of his skin. He was so comfortable…

"Hey," Piccolo said. He gave her a nudge with his elbow.

"Mm?" Hana rubbed her eyes. She was still leaning on him.

"You fell asleep."

"What?"

An amused sound grunted out of him. "It's been nearly an hour since we began."

"Woah! I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to."

"It's fine. You needed it, apparently."

Hana let her head fall back between his shoulder blades. "Was I snoring?"

"A little."

She grumbled with embarrassment.

Piccolo shifted against her and started to stand up. He brushed the grass from his gi, held out his hand. Hana took it and he hoisted her onto her feet. "Sorry meditation was kind of a bust," she said. "I should've known I would suck at it."

"On the contrary. You matched my breathing and were able to calm your mind. Your calm went…a bit too far. But it's something to work on for next time."

"Next time?" Hana looked up at him in disbelief. "You mean you still wanna train me after this?"

"What? Yes. Of course."

Maybe it was the remnants of dreams still clinging to her. Maybe she was still a touch drunk. Whatever the excuse, she wrapped her arms snugly around his middle in a grateful hug, pressing her cheek just below his sternum. Piccolo went stiff, his arms held out awkwardly at his sides. Hana could hear his heart pounding away in his ribs. Was he…nervous?

"Hana…what're you…" He gulped, face burning.

She let go of him. He'd broken out in a visible sweat. "Sorry! I don't know what got into me. I…I won't do it again."

Piccolo averted his eyes and went to gather up his cape and turban. "We'll, uh…we'll pick this up again soon. I have training of my own I need to—"

"No, wait." Hana grabbed him by the wrist to keep him back. Not forcefully, just enough to get his attention. "Please. Please don't disappear again. You can walk with me back to the Son house."

She feared he would shake her off anyway, but he adjusted the turban on his head and took a deep breath. Some of his normal color returned, though he still wouldn't meet her gaze. "If that's what you want," he said. "All right, let's go."

.

.

Gohan woke to the sound of talking just outside. He slowly rolled out of bed and walked to the open window with the quilts draped around him like a cloak. There they were, his two teachers, strolling into the back yard and having a pleasant chat. He even saw Hana laughing. "Oh good," he said with a sigh. "They made up after all."

Hana reached the back door and smiled over her shoulder at Piccolo before entering. Gohan heard the door close behind her. Piccolo stared at the space she'd occupied seconds earlier, his stoic expression entirely unreadable.

"Mr. Piccolo," Gohan called, motioning him over.

His teacher seemed surprised to hear his name. "Gohan?" He came over to the window. "Kid, you're supposed to be asleep."

"I know, I know, but hey. You apologized to Miss Hana, didn't you?"

"Something like that," Piccolo said. He swiped errantly at his nose.

"I figured. She's a lot happier today."

Piccolo's eyes wandered to the back door again. "She is."

"So…have you told her yet?"

"Told her what?"

Gohan smacked his forehead in disbelief. "That you like her, of course!"

"That's none of your business," Piccolo said, grimacing at the accusation. "And keep your voice down. You should be in bed."

"You probably likes you back, y'know."

Piccolo jabbed a furious finger in the direction of Gohan's bed. "Sleep. Now."

Giggling at his master's flustered state, Gohan high-tailed it back to bed and curled up like a burrito in his quilts. "You're coming back to keep training me once I get better, right?"

"I am." Piccolo closed the window most of the way to keep the breeze out. "So hurry up and recover already."

Gohan smiled. "Yes, sir."

As soon as he was content that the boy was sleeping, or at least pretending to sleep, Piccolo turned and hiked over to the peach tree on the hill. And there he sat, eyes fixed on the back door, hoping Hana would come outside before the afternoon was over. Just once more. Just long enough to see her smile again.

.

.

WOW! I still can't believe all the incredibly kind reviews I've gotten since I posted the new update. I was honestly thinking no one would care since it had been so long since the last chapter. You guys are so great. DBZ fans are the absolute best fans on the planet, no doubt. I'm incredibly touched, thank you SO much.

This chapter came out later than anticipated because-shocker!-I got the flu. Gohan must've given it to me. :P Anyway, I'm already hard at work on the next chapter so I hope it'll be up in the next week!

Thanks again!