"Some moments are nice, some are nicer and some are even worth writing about." - Charles Bukowski

5:30 a.m., sharp, my touch-screen clock began blaring the alarm, signifying that the time for slumbering had passed and, within the next hour and a half, I needed to be dressed and ready to be the boss of the 452 employees that worked in the West City branch of the company.

I always use to give myself ample time to start the day.

Sometimes I miss those days when I was needed most.

Without even having to open my eyes, I reached over and tapped a finger on the screen, dismissing the alarm for today.

"It's about time you shut that thing off,"

I sort of yelped in surprise, only just then realizing that there was someone on the bed with me. It took me a second to gather myself before frustration set in at being caught off guard. "When did you get here?" I asked, not having to look at the person to know who it was.

"Good morning to you, too," Vegeta responded in his usual deadpan tone.

I turned my head to look at him. With dawn still about an hour away, the room's only source of light came from the fleeting night sky shining through the balcony doors to the far left of the bed, on his side. "Good morning Vegeta," I said, mockingly. "So how long have you been back?" It had been three days since that rainstorm swept through the city, and about three days since I had last saw him.

He was on his side with his back to me. "Last night." he said, simply, his voice raspy from sleep.

"That's very vague. You mind giving me a particular timeframe?" I lightly asked, knowing that he doesn't enjoy the questions, but knows that he will answer them regardless.

"7:28 p.m.," he had a tendency to be very specific about certain things when he wanted me to stop pestering him.

"That was one hour and seven minutes before I went to bed." I could be just as specific, but that was on account of my photographic memory, not because I'm an annoyingly boastful alien. "So, if you were here, why didn't you come down for dinner?"

"I ate before I came back,"

"That's never stopped you from going for seconds,"

He rolled over to his back in order to face me. "Did something happen in the city while I was away?" he asked, suddenly.

I got to a sitting position, stretched my arms above my head and stared down at him. "No, not really. We just got some heavy rain and a little lightning the other day, but that's it. Why?"

"I came back here that night to get a few things. I didn't see anyone downstairs, so I came straight up here. Before I got here, I guess around the same time you may have been putting the boy to bed, I saw something flashing in a field a few miles away..."

I swung my feet over the edge of the bed and stood up. "Vegeta, it was a lightning storm. What did you expect?" I said, going into the en suite bathroom, turned on the shower, stopped in front of the large, dark wood framed, single-mirrored double vanity and began brushing my teeth.

He continued with his explanation. "That's what I thought at first, but when I saw that it wasn't coming from the sky I stopped to check it out."

I stopped brushing to spit in the sink before coming to stand in the doorway with the toothbrush still in my hand. "I saw that, too. When I was in Trunks' room, I saw that same light. At least I think it was the same light."

He sat up and leaned his back onto the headboard. "What do you suppose it was?"

I pursed my lips and shrugged. "I have no idea. But I can only assume that it was just something that got struck in the storm."

He sighed. "Now that I'm thinking about it, that might be a logical explanation, because the source of the light did come from that field of turbines near the countryside and one was reduced to a smoldering pile of rubble. You think the storm did that?"

"Well, I'm sure if something was wrong we would know about it by now, right? You would be able to sense it if there were trouble,"

"Of course I would," he said as if the claim itself were absolutely redundant.

"Precisely," I said, gesturing my hand at him, and going back into the bathroom to rinse my mouth out. I then stripped down before hopping in the steaming shower. The stall is made entirely of glass, not including the wall where the knobs that controlled the rainforest shower head is attached to. "If it happened to one of the turbines in that field, then that must have been what caused the power to surge that night," I wondered aloud as I lathered myself with soap.

"The power went out?" I heard him ask.

"Only for about two minutes. I thought that maybe the generators kicked in, but the power came back all by itself."

"It was probably nothing, then," he said, dismissing his own suspicions.

Once out of the shower, I went over the vanity to scrub my face clean. I splashed cold water on my face and grabbed a towel off the rack to my left. Slowly dragging the soft cloth down my face, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror.

The look on my face was one of uncertainty, but, at the time, I wasn't really sure why. We were living in a time of peace, with no sign of a threat to be heard of, where I was finally able to do what everyone else was doing with their lives; I was living my life the way I wanted, mostly. I was not preparing to leave the planet anytime soon, nor was I building armor for an upcoming battle. I was simply doing what I wanted. But if my time with my friends...and Vegeta had taught my anything, it had showed me how quickly it could all be taken away. How easily some random person could come along and burst my bubble of normalcy.

That was a fear of mine that I was sure I would always live with, but that didn't mean I had to sit back and wait for the worst to come.

I grabbed a large towel to wrap around my body and used a blow-dryer to dry my hair. I walked out into my bedroom and went straight to the walk-in closet. I picked out a pair of dark blue skinny jeans, a cream-colored, button-up blouse and a navy blue blazer, all matched up with a pair of classic, lace up, white and brown Oxford shoes. I quickly dressed before stepping out of the closet. I went back into the bathroom to apply light make-up around my eyes and cheekbones and rouge lipstick on my lips.

I walked back into the bedroom and over to the bed as I rolled up the sleeves of my blazer and blouse and saw that the clock now read 6:02. "I'm gonna send someone over to the turbine field later on today,"

He was still sitting up. "It might not be worth it,"

I yawned, still feeling the affects of sleep. "Still. I just want to be sure that it didn't cause any problems for anyone other than us,"

He slid back down to lie on his back. "It was three days ago. Don't you think if someone was having electrical trouble, you'd have gotten a call by now?" he pointed out.

"Yes. But that doesn't mean I have to ignore it,"

He snorted at my defense. "You probably have some previous engagement that you're using this to get out of," he accused.

I was a little taken aback by his accusation. "Oh, shut up." My voice remained calm. "That is not even remotely true. I'm just getting this out of the way so I won't be thinking about it all day. That's all."

"I still don't believe you, Onna," he stated, though it's obvious that he wasn't entirely serious. "And its unnecessary, if you ask me."

"Whatever, okay? It's just a precaution for something that could be necessary, 'Geta," I vindicated, almost smirking as I crawled onto the bed, leaned down over him and playfully whispered. "And no one asked you." I hated it when someone tried to dissuade me from doing what I wanted, and he was no exception to that side of me.

He just stared up, unflinching, as I hovered above him. "Fine. It's your time, waste it as you will," he said, an obvious annoyance in his tone.

I raised an eyebrow. "You mean like all the time I spend with you?" I bit back.

He scoffed, resisting the urge to roll his eyes.

I held my smirk as I inched further down and captured his lips in a soft kiss, which he decided to deepen by placing a hand to the back of my head. This is what we did. Though the bulk of our relationship was physical, another big component was comprised of mature conversations that almost always led to immature disagreements, which were usually settled by the passionate flames that burned between the two us, basically back to the physical aspect, and it had been that way since day one.

We could always turn anything into a battle of wits, of who could outsmart the other, but that was what we both enjoyed the most about each other, though neither of us ever admitted it back then. No one could challenge us on the level that we were use to, and not everyone was worthy of arguing with over the petty things we did, nor could someone win if they ever tried.

Though that conversation wasn't all that intellectually stimulating, I still managed to shut him up.

I placed a hand to his bare chest, pushing myself upward, signaling the end of our lip-lock. "That's enough of that," I teasingly told him.

He released my head and watched as I got up and straightened myself out.

I fixed my hair and walked over to my jewelry armoire. The tall wooden piece was black with a over a dozen drawers and compartments that held my collection of accessories. I still have it to this day. I pulled open the fourth drawer from the top that specifically held all of my wrist watches, neatly sorted by brand and style. I selected a simple rose-gold Cartier and pushed the drawer closed.

I turned to him as I slid the watch onto my left wrist and secured it in place. "Get up and put some clothes on,"

"Why?"

"Because I have an hour to spare before I have to go and I want some company while I wait," I told him, going over to the dresser near the entrance of my closet.

He rolled over so that his back was to me. "Just go wake the boy," he groaned.

I opened the drawer and gathered what I was looking for in my arms before turning back to him. "I'm not waking up our three-year-old at 6 o'clock in the morning."

"But you have no problem making me get up,"

There was an obvious humor in my tone as I spoke. "I sure as hell don't. Besides, I thought you liked beating the sunrise. Are you getting soft on me?" I purposely provoked.

"If I were getting soft you would kn-" he said as he turned back over to face me, but was cutoff when he was hit in the face with clothes. He yanked the clothing off of his head to glare at me. "Really?"

I couldn't help the laugh that escaped my mouth at his expression. "Looks like your reflexes could use a bit of tuning up if you ask me."

"I'll show you reflexes," in an instant, he yanked the covers away from his body and launches himself right at me. I laughed as he gently and carefully tackled me to the ground before picking me up and tossing me on the bed.

That was one way I could think to waste a little time. Thank God for soundproof walls.

It had been a few hours since breakfast and Bulma departed Capsule Corp. in order to attend a meeting of some sort, so I was busying myself with watching my offspring run around his grandmother's greenhouse. The greenhouse was more of an indoor, grandiose garden, so massive it had its own wing of the compound. There was actual grass, that had been cut to perfection, on every inch of the ground. There were plots of various flowers and fresh produce and shrubbery that aligned to make a half-circle around the edges of the room with a few trees here and there, leaving an open space in the middle for entertainment. The Greenhouse was the place that the woman chose to hold her ostentatious events for the pseudo-intellectuals she easily convinced to show interest in the company's products. It was one of the few aspects of her life I wanted no part of.

I will never be able to understand how she put up with those sort of people, even if it was for the sake of business.

I sat on the grass, watching as the boy gleefully chased around some of the strange and exotic -some were even endangered- pets that belonged to his grandparents. The boy was demonstrating a level of running and jumping far beyond the physical capabilities of his age, for a human not a Saiyan, of course. Why the woman still chose to coddle him with things such as sippy cups and booster seats, at the time I did not understand, but I allowed the motherly precautions just the same. A mother has the right to do what they believe is best when it comes to their children.

I watched the boy chase after some kind of feline known as an Ocelot. It had been the boy's favorite to play with since the first time he saw it. The creature was obviously not serious about getting away from him, barely running and playfully dodging whenever he attempted to grab it. The boy was now close to catching it, but the quadruped made a hard left, causing the boy to lose his footing when he tried to do the same. The small child went tumbling across the grass.

I couldn't hold in the sigh of frustration as I shook my head at the lack of tactics on display.

"Oh Trunks, are you okay?" his grandmother asked from where she was standing behind a Blue Bell shrub that she was trimming and picking flowers from. She was wearing a pair of gloves, holding gardening snips in one hand with a basket on the crook of her elbow on the other. "You aren't hurt, are you?"

"He's perfectly fine. Right, Trunks?" I said, watching as the boy picked himself up and gave an enthusiastic nod before going after the feline once more. "See?"

"I just wish he wouldn't play so rough. He fell pretty hard,"

"It was his own fault for letting an animal outsmart him with such a simple maneuver," I grumbled as I saw the boy try again to capture his opponent, only to yet again fail.

"I think they're just playing tag," she pointed out.

I shot her a look. "Obviously. But still, he should know better than that," I said more calmly, before going back to watching the boy be tackled to the ground by the animal. I had to resist the urge to groan.

"He's three. He'll get there, eventually," she said as she continued to cut and pick.

"You and that daughter of yours have the same excuses for everything, don't you?" I lightly mocked.

"That's why she's my daughter," she said with humor in her tone as she looked up to see her grandchild at play.

I shook my head once more and murmured. "A house full of crazy people," I often found myself having little conversations like this with the older woman. It began around three years prior to that point, and it usually only happened when it was just the two of us. I wasn't entirely sure when I just started going with it, but I never found a reason to question it. The woman was oddly tolerable to speak with at times, even with her annoyingly high voice.

"So, Bulma tells me that you plan on training with Trunks next year," she finished trimming the shrub before moving on to another.

"Yes, I am," I said simply.

"Why so soon?"

"We Saiyans develop at a faster pace than you humans. It's only natural to begin physical conditioning at an early age," I explained.

"He's still so young, though,"

I crossed my legs and folded my arms across chest. "By the time we start, he will be at least three years older than the average age a Saiyan begins to do these sort of things,"

"I couldn't imagine an infant going through such a thing," her voice was now taking on a melancholic tone. "It just doesn't seem fair,"

I scoffed, bitterly, remembering the days I had spent in rigorous training, until the day came that I would have to take my first life came. I was only four. "It is best to prepare him for whatever comes his way in the future, near and far."

"Bulma feels the same way about teaching him discipline while he's still young,"

"I guess she isn't all that crazy. Maybe you aren't related, after all." I jokingly suggested.

"Oh hush, you," she said, lightly, as she finished her task and came over to stand near me to my right. "You know, with you and Bulma both being such disciplinarians, I like to see him having fun. Not that you two don't let him have fun. But, most of the time, he's always so...obedient when it comes to you two,"

I looked up at her. "That's the whole point,"

She raised an eyebrow, sheepishly. "Touché,"

I stood up beside her. The woman stood a few inches shorter than myself and barely two inches shorter than her daughter, but still noticeably taller than her own husband.

I called the boy over, who was still in the middle of wrestling with his feline companion and winning, over to them. I had no doubts that the boy would tower over his grandparents as well.

The boy ran over. "Yes, Papa?"

"That's enough playing for right now. Go get cleaned up before we go," I instructed.

The boy gave a slight pout, but nodded anyway. He knew that certain things that worked on his mother had little to no affect on me. "Yes sir," he said before walking away towards the exit that led to the main area of the compound.

With the basket of flowers on her arm, the woman began walking in the same direction as the boy just went. I was going the same way, so I walked with her.

"So, where are you boys off to today?" she asked me. She removed her gloves and shoved them into her back pocket.

"His mother wants me to bring the boy to her downtown office for lunch. We meet in an hour," I told her, walking with my hands in my front pockets.

"Well, that sounds nice." We exited the room and stepped into the hall. "That reminds me. I need to call her," she pulled a cell phone out of her front pocket. "See you both later,"

I gave her a nod before we parted ways. I headed up toward the boy's bedroom, knowing that I will have to make sure the child didn't throw on one of the outlandish outfits he tended to put together in his early years.

"Alright, that's it for today," I announced from where I was sitting at the head of the long table in the middle of the conference room. "We will pick this back up when we meet again next week," I didn't wait for anyone to start leaving before I gathered my things and headed toward the double-doors. "Hopefully you all will have a lot of this finished by then. Meeting adjourned," I shot over my shoulder, casually, as I walked out.

I couldn't get out of there fast enough. I absolutely hated sitting through meetings, but understood that they were needed. Even though I didn't like it, I knew the importance of getting everyone in the same room to discuss what needed to be done at one time and have it out of the way. The beauty of being the head of an independent business was being the only boss and not having to worry about impressing investors. The downside was being in charge of everything and having to make and overlook every suggestion that one of the employees brought to your attention. Even with my older cousin being in charge of the East City and Orange Star City branches, it was still a lot to handle.

But I was never one to back down from a challenge. Probably why I held on to hope for our resident Saiyan for so long.

I walked down the corridor of cubicles, checking my watch along the way when my phone began to vibrate in the pocket of my blazer. I fished it out and inwardly groaned at the name on the screen. I very reluctantly slid my finger across the screen and answered the call. "Hello Mother," I was already exhausted before she even got a word out.

"Hi sweetie, how did the meeting go?" she asked me.

"It was fine. I told them that we're going to get started on our new line of appliances, starting tomorrow." I told her as I was approached by one of my employees with a detailed blueprint of an engine.

"How did they take the news about starting so early?"

"Not so good," it took me a few seconds to find the flaws, grab a pen from the man's shirt pocket, mark the places that needed improvement and write down how to do it before handing it back to him and continuing on my way. "I had to explain to their department that this means they will have more time to work on this if they start now, instead of later on in the year like usual,"

"Like all things that are good for you, they'll just have to learn to appreciate it." She agreed with me. The distant sound of rustling objects and running water could be heard in the background.

I found the noise odd. "Hey, Mom, what're you doing? I hear something on your end,"

The sound of a glass object very lightly hitting a surface comes next. "Oh, I just picked some flowers and now I'm putting them in a vase for the table," she explained. "Vegeta tells me that you're all having lunch together today,"

"Yeah, I wanted to spend some time with Trunks before my schedule gets in the way. Vegeta is just tagging along, reluctantly as always," I said, almost rolling my eyes just thinking about how adamant the Saiyan was about not wanting to spend time together. Outside of the compound.

"Well, it's still a nice gesture,"

I sighed. "I know, Mom," as the doors to my office came into view, I was politely interrupted by my secretary, who was sitting at her station about ten feet from my office. "What is it, Izumi?"

"Bulma, there's a call waiting on line one for you," she informed me. Izumi was an older woman, nearly forty six, with chestnut hair and soft brown eyes and a fair complexion. She was older than many of the others, due to her being one of the few employees that kept their position after my father retired. She was only twenty-two when she began working for the company, so she had known my family well enough to be on a first name basis with the boss, and was the head of my secretarial staff.

I mouthed a thank you before walking past her and into the office. "Hey, Mom, I got a call. I'll see you later,"

"Before you go, don't forget that you have to bring Gohan over to the compound tomorrow,"

I almost laughed at that. Someone reminding me to not forget was always seen as a redundant waste of time. I humored her anyway, though. "I won't,"

"Alright, sweetie, see you later. Love you,"

"Love you, too. Bye," I hung up and sat down at the large desk that sat in front of the floor to ceiling windows that made up one wall that had a beautiful view of Central City.

I placed my briefcase and cell phone on the desk before picking up the office phone and pressing line one. "Hello,"

"Hello there," a throaty and husky female voice said on the other end. "Am I speaking with Bulma Briefs?"

"Yes, this is she. May ask who this is," I said back, idly moving things around on my desk and before opening my laptop.

"Certainly, Miss Briefs, where are my manners. My name is Shion Adair,"

'Odd little name she has' was the first thing I thought about her as I typed in my password and switched the phone to speaker. "Okay, Miss Adair, what can I do for you this afternoon?"

"I wanted to talk to you, personally, about the opening you have for an event planner. I want to apply for the position," she boldly told me.

I typed away on the device, opening some files. "Miss Adair, are you aware that the deadline for the application submissions ended two weeks ago?" I asked, trying not make the woman feel embarrassed, or anything.

"Yes, I am. I found out about the position only a few days ago, but I figured if the deadline ended so recently that maybe you still haven't found anyone. Yet," she explained to me.

"You would be correct about that, Miss Adair. I am currently still in the process of selecting someone," I easily admitted. "Are you new to the city?"

"Yes, I recently made a rather long...journey to get to your hometown, if I could say."

I raised an eyebrow at this. "You're living in West City?"

"Yes, I just moved into the Park Street apartments," she specified.

I smiled a little at hearing this bit of information. "Well then, as a native, allow me to welcome you to West City," I genuinely told her. I have always had pride in my city, and it was a beautiful thing to see more creative individuals popping up.

"Thank you, Miss Briefs,"

"It's always nice to see new people finding a home in the city. And I'm sure the process wasn't all that easy," I said, remembering my short stays in various places during my travels back in the day.

"It's an adjustment, to say the least,"

"Why West City, anyway?"

"I hear it's the capital of creativity, also, I am looking to for something that is supposedly in this city,"

"Well, I can't argue with that title. I hope your journey there went smoothly,"

For some reason she giggled at my words before she answered. "The landing was pretty rough. I got a few bumps and bruises, but it was manageable enough," she was obviously trying not to laugh. Some kind of inside joke, or something I assumed at the time.

"Well, that's good, I suppose." My eyes were scanning over the screen as I spoke. I really wanted to check my mail before I left.

"Wait. You just said there. Are you not in the city?"

"No, I'm actually in Central City on business right now,"

"Oh, well, that's too bad. I have really been looking forward to meeting you for quite a while now. I was hoping that I could get the chance to speak with you in person,"

"I would like to meet you as well. You have certainly interested me enough to have gotten my attention." I finished looking through the file and opened my e-mail.

"That's good to know," she said with an unwavering confidence. "I would like to meet with you as soon as possible, if it isn't a problem,"

"No problem at all." I looked at the watch on my wrist. "But it can't be today. I don't have the time. It's a previous engagement I can't get out of. But, if you really want to see me, you just need to make an appointment with my secretary, Izumi, and we'll go from there. How does that sound?"

"Doable. I'm glad I got the chance to speak with you, Miss Briefs, I look forward to our meeting,"

"As do I, Miss Adair," I sincerely said as I checked my watch again. "Now, if there is nothing more, I really have to go."

"That's more than okay. Thank you for your time,"

"Oh! And I hope you find what you're looking for,"

She giggled again. "I am entirely certain that I will...very soon,"

We exchanged goodbyes before I hung up. I began sorting my things and placing them inside my leather briefcase.

I sighed when a thought occurred. I should probably let Mom know about this new one. I pondered that idea for all of five seconds. No, she might scare her away. I'll handle this one on my own.

I opened my schedule on my laptop and opened some space in the afternoon. I reached over to press a button on the intercom my desk. "Hey, Izumi,"

"Yes, Bulma, what is it?" she responded, almost immediately.

"You're gonna get a call from a woman named Shion Adair. I want you to tell her to come in tomorrow at 1 o'clock, okay?" I instructed.

"If I'm not mistaken, you have a meeting that shouldn't be letting out until around 2 o'clock, right?"

"I know that, and that's why I'm planning on pushing it up so that we can wrap up in time for me to meet this woman," I explained.

"Whatever you say. You are the boss," she complied. "I'll set it up right away," the sound of typing could be heard on the other end. "This isn't about you trying to meet with this woman so soon because you don't want your mother to meet her, is it?"

I winced at the perceptive woman's guess. "Not at all," I lied, very unconvincingly.

"Whatever you say," Izumi said, obviously seeing through my lie. A few more taps of keys was heard before she spoke again. "It's done,"

"Thank you, Izumi," I said in a playfully immature tone.

"You're welcome. And just know that if your mother asks, I might have to tell her," she warned me.

"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it." I wanted to dismiss the topic. My mother was a sweet woman, but she had a way of instilling absolute terror when she wanted to. Even Vegeta had found himself caught off guard by how much she was able to frighten him without making a single threat.

"Oh, Bulma, I just got the report back from the workers you sent to see about that turbine field today,"

"That's good. I was hoping to hear back from them before I headed out,"

"I already sent you the e-mail,"

"Thanks," I released the button and turned back to my laptop. I quickly got to my inbox and opened the new message. I saw that there was an attachment and clicked it. It was a two page report along with a few photographs. I quickly read the first page of the report.

Ms. Briefs, my name is Kent Honjo, I am the lead contractor working on the task of checking your turbine field. I feel the need to inform you that my team and I have finished our inspection of the destroyed wind turbine and the surrounding turbines and we only found minimal damage; easily repairable. But I regret to inform you that the cause of this damage doesn't appear to simply be from the storm, as you initially thought. During our test, one of my men received a mild shock after stepping on a small piece of debris, so we decided to run a test on the area for safety reasons. Using a volt meter, the test found that the area around the destroyed turbine contained extremely high voltages of electricity flowing through it. Destructively high. If the storm had anything to do with this, then something had to be used to conduct and concentrate enough power to reduce a 30 foot tall turbine into a pile of rubble. If it wasn't the storm, at all, then it's completely inexplicable to me.

My interest was peaked but I paused before starting the second page, no doubt just a detailed assessment of the damage, and went to take a look at the photographs of the scene. The digital images were of the inspected area and showed the pile of rubble that the man was referring to. He left out the fact that the grass looked to have been burned away and the pile of rubble was more like a pile of used charcoal. Just as Vegeta had told me.

It looked like it blew up. I carefully scanned the image, looking for something that my eyes could catch where most others would miss. And I did.

"What the hell?" I narrowed my eyes and enhanced the image and leaned in to make sure that I was seeing this correctly. There, on the ground beside the mess, were scorched spots. "Are those footprints?" I thought aloud. This gave me pause about what I believed I was staring at.

Before I had the chance to examine it more closely, the doors to my office flew open.

My head shot up from the screen to see the source of the disruption, only to find Vegeta standing in the doorway with our son tucked beneath his arm. He set him down on the floor and Trunks immediately ran over to me. As he always did.

I quickly stood up and scooped my bundle of joy up in my arms. "Hi baby,"

"Hi Momma!" he said, enthusiastically, wrapping his short arms around my neck.

"How has my little man been today? Did you miss me?" I cooed as I kissed his cheek.

"Yes, I missed you!" he giggled. He pulled away to look at me. "I played with Bamboo today!"

My eyes widened with false excitement. "You played with Bamboo today? Wow!" I looked over at the man still standing near the door. "I thought you weren't supposed to play with Bamboo for a while after what happened the last time?" I said, directing my words at the Saiyan.

Vegeta simply crossed his arms across his chest. "I was watching him the entire time," he said, idly glaring around my office.

"Of course you were," I groaned. I looked back to my child. "Your daddy doesn't seem to understand the things that I tell him to do. I wonder if he can understand the words ou se yon estipid,"

He growled at that, truly despising when I spoke in other languages, knowing that I usually did it to insult him. "Can we just get this little outing over with already?" he saif, very impatiently.

I rolled my eyes before smiling at my son, repostioning him on my hip, and reached over to my laptop. I stared at the photograph for a moment, deciding that it could wait until later and shut it, slid it into my briefcase and grabbed it with my free hand. I smiled at my son again. "I hope you at least worked up an appetite while you were playing with Bamboo, because you're having lunch with Momma today," Trunks excitedly nodded his head. "Alright then," I walked past my agitated lover. "Let's go, Estipid,"

A/N: all chapters will be titled after song that go with the subject of that particular chapter. Just in case you thought the titles would sound weird. See you all next week, my friends.