Thank you to everyone who read/reviewed, and encouraged me to continue with this story. As a special thanks, I am posting Chapter 2 already.

I also wanted to reiterate that I am definitely not planning to quit writing The 7 Year Gap. I've just been putting so much pressure on myself with that story and it's making it hard for me to update. I know if I stop overthinking and distract myself with another story (like this one) the writer's block will go away. :) It might take me a little while, but I know the creativity will start flowing again if I give myself another project to work on that has a completely different plot. I just don't want to force it and sacrifice the quality of the work. I care too much about the people who support me to do that. Thank you for being so understanding and encouraging about it! :)

There was a throbbing in her leg, but Bulma managed to push herself back to her feet without letting out a sound of discomfort. "Take us to your equipment!" Vegeta was barking, growing impatient of having to repeat himself. "Enough with your procrastination!"

"I'm not procrastinating, I'm in pain! I already told you that!" She huffed. For a moment she had forgotten that she was terrified of this man. Thinking that he wouldn't do her any significant harm if he needed her for the dragon balls, her fear was starting to transition into indignance.

For someone that had just watched him kill her friends, was chased into the woods before being dragged out, clearly had an injury (though it was minor), and was being threatened with her life, this Woman sure gave a lot of lip. Vegeta was almost amazed at her gall, but it wouldn't do to have someone being so mouthy during this mission.

At this rate he'd be lucky to retrieve the dragon balls before his three months ran out, and then there would be a search warrant put out for him. There was no time for this! He grabbed her shoulder and swung her around so her back was pointing at him, forcing one arm behind as he squeezed. Bulma let out a choke – perhaps she'd been too rash in deciding he wouldn't hurt her. He had used the same arm he'd been tugging before, and now he was holding it in an unnatural position against her shoulder blades. All she could do was breathe in agony, afraid that if he pushed it any higher up it would really snap this time.

"I told you I would use force if I have to." He was hissing in her ear, and she gulped. "Quit stalling, and take us to your transportation device. I don't want any more lip from you. Understand?"

Her instinct was to yell something back about how rude he was being, but this time she thought before opening her mouth. It took a moment, but Bulma finally nodded, and as soon as she did she was on the ground again from the sudden release of pressure. "You fall too much." He snapped, taking a step back. "How pathetic."

She ignored his taunts and pulled the capsule out of her pocket, throwing it before even climbing back to her feet.

"Interesting…" She heard him mutter, and he was already heading towards the plane before Bulma was even standing. She moved as quickly as she could to the driver's side, pulling herself into the seat and clicking on her safety belt. Vegeta was already seated next to her. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes and counting to ten, and then turned to look at him. He was glaring at her, and when they made eye contact he deepened his scowl. "Remember-" He began.

"I'm not going to do anything stupid. You don't have to tell me again." She cut in, shaking her head as if to dismiss him. She didn't need to hear his spiel right now - there were other matters on her mind. "Look, I'll take you to my equipment, it's just…"

Vegeta was more shocked than he cared to admit. Here she was again, giving him lip even though she was clearly outranked. He grit his teeth and turned to break eye contact. But how could he get her to learn her place? It wouldn't do to strike her in order to make a point. She was incredibly weak, and he needed her to have all her strength if they were going to get the dragon balls. "It's just what?!" He barked, frustrated at how bizarrely powerless she was making him feel.

Bulma jumped from the boom of his voice, letting out a small squeak. "It's just..." She trailed. She wasn't really sure how to quite word this, but she needed to do it. "The equipment is at my house… and, well… I don't live alone."

"Oh?" The saiyan crossed his arms. He was about to shoot her another threat, but she continued before he had the chance to start.

"It's my parents. Please… I'll do what you want me to, but please." Bulma clamped her eyes shut as she spoke. If he said anything about harming them, she would not allow it. She would let him beat her to a pulp if he was going to, but she would not take him to get the dragon radar if her parents would be risked. Flinching in anticipation of his response, she continued. "Promise me - I just don't want them to get hurt. Plea-"

"Oh, shut up with your groveling! If they don't get themselves involved in the matter, I'll spare them!" Vegeta spat, turning back to glare at her. "I don't have time to make unnecessary casualties. You've wasted enough as it is!"

The terrified gleam in her eyes was momentarily lulled with relief, and she nodded. She knew that he could very easily be lying to her, but at this point his words were all she had to dull the anxiety that was building in her chest. Choosing to lean towards hope that he would stick to what he said, Bulma took in a deep breath and powered on her plane. She clicked a few buttons and pulled down on a lever, preparing her engines for takeoff. Her captor seemed satisfied that she was finally doing what was asked of her, and he leaned back into his seat without another word.

.

The duration of the flight was in silence and the Bluehead found herself glancing over at her abductor several times to see if he'd fallen asleep, but each time he was just staring grimly out the window with his arms crossed. Thinking that the situation would turn out best if she managed to remain calm, Bulma used the quiet of the ride to catch her breath, trying to clear her mind and ward off the feeling of impending doom. 'This is just like any flight home' She thought, counting to five before taking in another deep breath. 'Just a long flight home…'

As soon as the plane landed with a thud, and before Bulma could unfasten her safety belt, there was a hand on her shoulder. She felt as his fingertips slid down her arm, her eyes widening. 'Oh, no!' She thought in horror. Not only was this man a murderer – he was a pervert, too! She took in a deep breath, getting ready to slap his hand away once it reached her thighs, but it never did. Instead she felt something warm around her wrist, and she looked down to see a loop of gold hanging from it. "Hey – what?"

"Don't forget, Woman." He was growling. "One bad move, and I'll butcher you all."

"Hey! You promised!" Bulma began, indignation once again taking the place of fear.

"Shut up!" An elbow prodded her in the side. "I said I wouldn't do anything if they don't intervene!" What was with this girl? How was it that she could be visibly trembling from his voice in one moment, and then yelling back the next?

"Fine, but stop touching me like that! You're going to give me bruises!" Bulma scowled, anger bubbling at the idea of being lied to. "I told you I understand the situation, so back off!" With that she unbuckled her seatbelt and kicked open the plane door, dodging out of his reach. "And you!" She continued, slamming the door and turning to point a finger at Vegeta, who was already standing behind her. "You'd better stop threatening me every two seconds and start acting normal, or we'll both get found out! You think my parents won't get suspicious when you tell me you'll murder me in front of them?! Think again!"

The saiyan responded by balling his hands into fists, a growl eliciting from his throat. She could see color coming to his cheeks, a vein starting to puff out in his forehead. It was clear that he knew she was making a good point, and she threw her hair over her shoulder for effect. "That's right!" She huffed, turning on her heel and making her way to the entrance of her home. Grumbling under his breath about Earth scum, Vegeta followed.

The woman's house was nearly as big as Frieza's ship had been, but it was much brighter and filled with floral scents. Vegeta was surprised at the size of it – of all the planets he'd been on, only the elite lived in such buildings. Looking around, he followed closely behind as she led him through the house. He had to admit that he was caught off guard when they passed a robot wearing an apron. "Good. Morning. My lady." The robot crowed, monotone and slow, turning to greet them.

"Hello, Berthy." The Bluehead replied, waving a careless hand as she walked. Berthy responded by lifting a metal arm, rigidly waving a feather duster as they passed.

Vegeta was intrigued. While the technology was advanced in Frieza's army, they hadn't utilized it to perform tasks. Their computer systems were used to calculate coordinates, determine power levels, keep tabs on one another, and efficient transportation. They had not developed robots to use for house-keeping duties. Those responsibilites had been reserved for the slaves.

She led them further into the house, turning into a hall that led into an even bigger room, which seemed to be even more brightly lit than the last. The woman was limping less now as she took big strides, her head held higher. It seemed she had regained some confidence now that she was back in her own territory. Continuing through the room, Vegeta suddenly heard a high-pitched squeal, followed by a screeching nasal voice.

"OH! Bulma!"

The Bluehead stopped in her tracks, and Vegeta had to catch himself to keep from plummeting into her. Exasperated, he looked to the source of the voice, and his eyes widened when he saw a petite blonde lady running right at them. This must have been the mother - though Vegeta thought it strange that she wasn't acting any wiser or older than the Bluehead did. If she hadn't already told him to expect to meet her parents, the saiyan would have assumed the two were sisters.

"Dahl'ing! Oh, you're back!" The blonde was squeaking now, taking her daughter by the hand and giving it an enthusiastic jerk. She sure had a shrill voice! Vegeta bit his lip, making a rather sour face as his eardrums began to ring.

"Oh, and who's this handsome boy?" Mrs. Briefs suddenly dropped Bulma's hands as if they were foul, jumping for Vegeta and peering into his face. "Oh Bulma, he's stunning! See, I told ya baby, I knew you'd find yourself a hunkie man!"

"Mom..."

"Oh, come on now! You and Yamcha have been broken up for more than two years! It's about time you found someone else! I'm only speakin' the truth!"

"Mom..."

"And look at him, he was worth the wait!" The blonde woman clapped her hands together and began to bounce on her feet. "I know! I'll make some lunch for us, and I wanna hear all about how you guys met-"

"MOM!"

That was enough to finally stop her ramble. "Okay, okay!" Mrs. Briefs threw her hands in the air as if someone was threatening her with a weapon, and she backed away with a big smile on her face. "I'm sorry, dear." She said to Vegeta, shaking her head as if to say you know how she is. "Bulma's got a bit of a temper, but she sure is a sweet girl. I always told my husband that moodiness is a side effect of intelligence, ya know. Oh, I'll just go prepare some food."

"Mom, where's Dad?" Bulma asked, her voice rising in pitch. She was feeling more than slightly mortified. It was just like her mother to quickly take on the role of embarrassing her in front of a man she'd brought home. The irony that her mom was doing it with her own kidnapper was nearly too much to take, and she was starting to feel rather lightheaded from the ordeal.

"He's in the lab!" Mrs. Briefs was calling as she headed for the kitchen. "Go say hi! He's been expecting you!"

.

"What happened to you?" Dr. Briefs actually seemed to notice the cuts and scrapes on his daughter, while Mrs. Briefs had been too busy fawning over Vegeta to care.

"I just had a little accident." Bulma replied with pursed lips, taking to opportunity to shoot an accusatory scowl at Vegeta, who narrowed his eyes in return. "Hey, I'm going to go look for the dragon balls. Do you know where the radar is?"

"Hm? Oh yes! It's over on that shelf." Dr. Briefs said with a wave of his hand.

The Bluehead left Vegeta standing where he was as she walked off to where her father had gestured. As she began gathering items from the shelf, clipping things to her belt and strapping a bag over her shoulder, Vegeta took the time to glance around the lab. It was filled with half alive robots that seemed like they needed surgery, large computers that had a different look than the ones the saiyan had seen, mathematical equations sprawled across a whiteboard that took up an entire wall, and even a large vase filled with bubbling blue substance that was brewing over a burner. Vegeta was shocked. It was rare for him to come across this type of equipment on such a puny planet. Not only had the woman he'd taken hostage been aware of the dragon balls, but it seemed that she came from some family that had enough scientific knowledge to stand against the cold empire!

Who was she?!

"Alright, I think that's everything." Bulma announced, turning and walking back towards Dr. Briefs and Vegeta. She took in a deep breath, placing her hands on her hips. "Well, I guess we should-"

"Oh, before you leave. Have a look at this formula, will you?" Dr. Briefs, who had turned back to his desk as Bulma rummaged the shelf, ran a hand through his stringy hair. "I've been staring at it all day and can't figure out where I went wrong."

The Bluehead leaned over her father's shoulder and examined the notepad he'd been working on. It only took her five seconds before her finger shot out and clapped the sheet of paper. "This." She said. "Look, you can't have a coefficient right there."

"Oh - of course. Silly me."

She planted an affectionate smack on her father's cheek before standing back up straight. "You need to stop staying up so late, dad. It's bad for your health."

"Alright! You got me there." Dr. Briefs shrugged. Wanting to change the subject, he turned back to his daughter. "So, you're off to find the dragon balls. Does that mean Goku isn't doing well?"

She had started to look nearly happy, but the chipper mood suddenly dropped from her eyes. She shook her head, suddenly fighting away the tears. She had still been in shock when Vegeta had attacked her, and the ordeal had been enough to take her mind off her friend for a bit. Now it was all flooding back, and she gulped sadly. How could she tell her father that Goku was already dead?

"Mmm. Such a shame. I do hope he'll start feeling better soon." Dr. Briefs turned back to his desk, not seeming to notice the blatant distress on his daughter's face. "Well, make sure you take a toolkit with you in case you run into trouble."

The distraught Bluehead nodded, turning back towards the door. "I've got everything we'll need. See you later, dad."

"Okay. Say goodbye to your mother on the way out."

.

What the hell had just happened?

The Woman's mother had been so interested in him that it nearly felt violating, and her father hadn't acknowledged his presence at all! Vegeta, still amazed at the laboratory and her blatant intelligence, followed Bulma back up the stairs and into the large main room again, suddenly noting that the house was now filled with the odor of stewing meat.

"Oh, mom!" The Bluehead began to call towards the kitchen. "I'm sorry, I should have told you! We have to go! We can't eat right now!"

This was when Vegeta finally spoke for the first time since walking into the Briefs residence. "Hush!" He gave her a light nudge, clearing his throat. Bulma turned and raised her eyebrows quizzically. "Don't tell her to stop. You and I will eat." He growled.

Her face screwed and she threw out a hip. She looked at him with an expression as if she was questioning his intelligence, which Vegeta couldn't help but think was quite cocky considering the position she was in. "I thought you said I've wasted enough of your time!" She hissed.

"It is not possible to waste time when food is involved."

.

Lunch was awkward, but Bulma had expected that. She was sitting straight across from the man who had taken her prisoner, after all. Watching as he downed plates of food quicker than Mrs. Briefs could supply them, her stomach felt uneasy. 'Unreal.' She thought in horror, unable to take her eyes away as he swallowed a bowl of stew with one gulp. There had only been one other person she'd met who ate like that…

Not a word was spoken as they ate. Vegeta did not care to answer any of Mrs. Briefs' invasive questions, and Bulma was too amazed at his eating habits to notice her own mother. It was when he finally swallowed the last on his food and set his last plate aside that Bulma seemed to realize her mom was in the room for the first time, and she casually pushed herself back in her chair. "So," The Bluehead said. She wasn't looking forward to it, but it was about time to get it over with. "We're going to hunt for the dragon balls."

"Whaaat?!" Mrs. Briefs screeched. "Oh! That must mean Goku isn't doin so great!" She put a dramatic hand to her forehead and turned to Vegeta. She stuck her bottom lip out in a pout that looked rather rehearsed, eyes welling with tears. "Goku has always been such a good boy. He really took care of my Bulma when they searched for the dragon balls together. You gotta take his place, honey! Please take care of my girl!"

"Mom!" Bulma hissed, her eyes widening from the irony of the situation once again. Not only had her mother mistaken this man – the same man who had violently abducted her – as her boyfriend, but she was asking him to protect her?! If only she knew what she was saying! "Oh no, mom!"

Mrs. Briefs was reaching for Vegeta's hand, and he raised a disgusted eyebrow as he pulled it away. As the Woman attempted to calm her crying mother, the saiyan allowed her words to sink in. Of course, he wasn't surprised to know that Bulma – as everyone kept calling her – had used the dragon balls before. But what struck his curiosity was that it was apparently dangerous. Goku – who seemed the be the deviant saiyan that died before Vegeta could meet him – had gone with her and acted as some kind of bodyguard? Where did the name Goku come from, anyway? He could have sworn that the saiyan had some low-class name - Kakarot?

'Wait a minute.' Vegeta thought. What kind of saiyan would locate something that would grant any wish, and not use it for immortality?! What kind of person had Goku been?! He hadn't just failed miserably at his mission – he must have been an idiot, too!

It took nearly twenty minutes before Bulma had managed to calm down Mrs. Briefs and lead Vegeta back into her plane. She took in a deep breath as she strapped the safety belt back over her waist, her fingers trembling as she pulled the dragon radar from her pocket and clicked it on. Her eyes squinted as she studied the flashing ball on the screen. "It looks like we need to head north for the first one." She commented, clicking the button again to confirm the approximate coordinates. "It'll take us half a day to get there."

"Whatever." The saiyan growled. "Just as long as I can get my wish."

She nodded, leaning back in her seat and powering the plane to life. She had thought to thank Vegeta for being surprisingly patient with her parents, especially since she knew he didn't have to. But it was obvious that he wasn't in the mood to talk. Her knuckles were trembling, and as she looked down at her hand she suddenly remembered the gold ring that had been strapped around her wrist. "Oh." She said, shaking her arm and watching it dangle. "Um.. what exactly is this?"

An irritated breath came from the man sitting beside her, as if the question she asked was beyond stupid. "It's a way to ensure you don't try to run off. When you are wearing that and get a certain distance away from me, it will shoot an electric shock into your body. So strong that you'll pass out. We typically reserve them for our slaves back on the base, but you've been considered an exception."

She couldn't even respond, a chill running down her spine. With a weak nod she turned back to her dashboard, starting up the plane and taking off without another word. As they flew in silence through the sky, passing by cities below, she fought to calm her pulse as terrifying thoughts flooded her mind. She'd been planning something risky since they'd arrived at her house, and this news just made it even more of an uncertainty.

It wasn't until they had been flying for nearly four hours that she was calm enough to feel even half-confident of her plan again. They were now flying over a series of hills, lined green with trees and grass. The man beside her hadn't even cleared his throat since they'd taken off, and she wondered once again if he had gone to sleep. With a soft sigh she gave him a side-glance, noting that he was indeed wide awake.

"So.." She said awkwardly, shifting her weight a little. She saw him twitch at hearing her voice, but otherwise he didn't respond. "There's something I've been wanting to tell you."

"What?" He replied, no emotion in his tone.

"It's a shame." She breathed, her fingers hovering over a button under her seat.

"What are you on about?" He growled.

… Her hand pressed the button, and her body tightened. She'd just sealed the deal. It really was now or never. "It's a shame you had to be such a jerk. You really were kind of cute."

A second later she had opened the plane door and thrown herself out, trying not to panic as she began her free-fall. She had only been able to drop about a hundred meters when the plane exploded, the heat from the impact slapping her in the back as she screamed.