"Why are we walking when we could fly instead?" Vegeta grumped. He'd assumed that the village would be much closer to where they'd set up camp for the night, but they had been walking for 20 minutes already, and he had no idea how much longer it would be.

"I don't want to cause a commotion by arriving in a jet." Bulma replied, her eyes glued to the radar. "We don't have too much longer. It looks like we're getting close."

"We could fly without a jet." The saiyan retorted, irritated with how high the sun already was in the sky.

"No we can't!" Bulma hissed back. The truth was, she was fully aware that Vegeta was able to fly - a capability that took her by surprise when he'd done it to pull her out of a tree. And, if it had been anyone else, she would have actually demanded such a treatment. She was hungry, not having eaten dinner the night before, and she was tired – she hadn't gotten much sleep on the couch, and the bastard had woken her up when it was still dark out! The Bluehead was hardly in the mood to walk at all, but she'd be damned if she was going to get physically close to her captor anytime soon.

Up ahead she could see the lining of the village now, large huts making up the boundary of the tiny town. "About time." The saiyan grumbled. "Next time we will fly. We could have made this trip in less than half the amount of time."

Bulma ignored him, narrowing her eyes as she punched the button on her radar to adjust the scale. "Looks like the dragonball really is in the village." She sighed. "Oh, I'd really been hoping it would be in a tree somewhere. It would have made things so much easier..."

"And? We will just take it from whoever owns it. If they try anything, I'll take care of them."

"You said you wouldn't hurt anyone!" Bulma snapped, gripping her radar with both hands and shooting an incredulous look at Vegeta. The saiyan screwed his face and turned away bitterly - he'd actually forgotten he'd said such a thing. How was it that he was so prone to just agreeing to her requests? This was their second day together, and he'd already compromised so much for this reckless girl! He told himself that it was because he needed her for the dragonballs, but this did nothing to cease the warped feeling inside when he thought of it. "If it becomes necessary, I won't hold back" He finally resolved.

"You didn't hold back when you killed my friends." Bulma spat, and it rolled off her tongue with such casual bitterness that she didn't even blink an eye. She clicked the button on her radar again and turned her head to a side as she studied the map, trying to get an idea of where in the village the ball would be found.

"That's what you think." Vegeta hissed.

What did that even mean? How could he talk about holding back, and then claim he'd done such a thing to Krillin and Yamcha. She'd been there to see it – he'd brutally murdered them! Bulma shook her head, choosing to shove the thoughts back rather than grow emotional. They were advancing on the village now, and she looked ahead to see the large wooden fence that seemed to enclose its perimeters. "Remember." She said. "Don't let them know we want the dragonball. Don't use the word dragonball. Don't explain what it is. Try to act as if it it's nothing more than a pretty jewel. We don't want to attract attention to what we're doing"

"Yeah, yeah..."

.

An old lady was using a shawl to shield her aching head from the sun as she noticed a strange couple walking on the other end of the street. How odd - the man appeared to be no taller than the woman, yet he was twice as wide in build. The eldery lady watched as the strange couple stared at something in the woman's hands, drifting through the crowd of villagers as they went.

It appeared as if they were reading a map. And, as the elderly woman watched, they headed straight for the rowdiest place possible, causing her to shake her head. It was a saloon that was filled with thirsty customers at all times of the day. It offered burlesque shows at night – the whistles and howls of the handsy men inside were notorious for keeping the villagers up.

"That poor fool." The elderly lady muttered, noting the Bluehaired woman's young frame. "She'd be better off turnin' around than going straight into Eddie's trap…"

.

Yelling and howling could be heard from inside the saloon, even as Vegeta and Bulma stood outside. "Remember. Let me do the work. We don't want to stand out." The Bluehead whispered, shoving the dragon radar in her pocket and smoothing out her hair.

"Woman, if you tell me that one more time, I swear…"

"Ssh! Just let me do all the work, okay? Just keep watch, okay?"

The door swung open as the two stepped into the saloon, and Vegeta slipped into the shadows to stand guard by the door. It couldn't have been any later than 10 in the morning, and already the building was full of a bunch of intoxicated men. Sitting around tables, all of them were yelling and laughing, and none of them seemed to notice the saiyan who was standing with his back against the wall by the entrance. Their eyes fell on Bulma as she passed, making her way to the bar at the end of the saloon.

"What's a little thing like you doing in a place like this?" One man called, leaning out from his chair and waving his arm as if he'd grab her at any moment. Vegeta was surprised to feel his bicep tighten to see it, but he furrowed his eyebrows and stood firm. This woman made it clear that she didn't want him to get involved. Not only that, but she was capable of more than she led on – she'd jumped out of a damned plane despite her inability to fly! So, rather than blast the disgusting idiots, the saiyan tightened his jaw and continued to watch, his eyelid twitching.

Ignoring the men that were whistling at her, Bulma's eyes were tracking the building as she weaved through the aisles of loud tables. It could be that one of the drunk customers had the dragonball in their cargo, perhaps? Or maybe the ball would be found somewhere else… Did this place have a basement?

"Little lady, come here! Why don't you sit on my lap, and we can talk about the first thing that comes up!" A faceless man shouted, followed by a howl of laughs. The Bluehead, growing impatient with the insulting words being thrown at her, was about to turn to whoever just said that, but a sparkle caught her eye, and she looked up instead.

She could see it – that orange sphere, light reflecting on it from the window. Propped up against jackalope antlers as a stand, the tangerine orb was sitting on display at the mantel of the bar. Her eyes glued on the ball, she quickly whisked away from the yodeling men. Behind the counter of the bar stood a greasy looking man in a white wife-beater shirt, wiping down a mug with a towel as he watched her approach.

Still hidden in the background, completely unnoticed by the patrons in this shop, Vegeta noted how quickly her path had changed. It was obvious she'd seen it. He looked ahead, raising an eyebrow as he crossed his arms. Things were about to get interesting…

"What a little thing like you doing in a place like this so early, sweetie?" The bartender finally scowled, eying Bulma's body up and down. Vegeta could hear it through the ruckus of the crowd, his advanced senses twitching to hear such hunger in the bartender's voice. He noted that the Blueheads arms tensed at his words, her hands rolling into fists, and he thought for a moment that she was going to lash out. Instead she surprised the saiyan - she took a deep breath, pulling back a stool and taking a seat at the counter.

'Interesting,' Vegeta thought, a light smirk lining his lips. She really did have some sort of plan, after all…

The scowling bartender eyed her up and down again, stepping back and slamming a mug on the counter. "Can I help you?" He asked, a smirk on his lips as if challenging her.

"I want a whiskey on ice." Bulma replied. The bartender let out a loud cackle. "She wants a whiskey on ice!" He grabbed a hose and started filling the mug with beer instead. When the glass was filled to its brim with froth he slid it towards her, shaking his head as he laughed again.

"Excuse me!" Bulma replied. "I said I wanted a WHISKEY on ICE! This isn't what I ordered!"

"Whiskey on ice is a sissy drink, sugar-toots." The bartender snapped. With that he turned and began to walk away so he could tend to his regular customers. The Bluehead watched, pretending to take a sip from her mug, as the greasy man found a spot at the other end of the bar, as far away as he could possibly have been from her. The bartender began to engage in conversation, clearly pleased to be speaking to whoever it was he'd found the company of. It was when the guy threw back his head to laugh at something that she stood quickly, her eyes narrowing. "Now!" She hissed. As Vegeta watched, she crawled up onto the counter from her stool and took a dive towards the dragonball.

"Hey!" The bartender yelled, but Bulma was already making her way back to across the counter. Her tiny body clambered onto the counter, trying to crawl back to the other side, as the bartender grabbed her leg to hold her back. "What d'you think you're doin'?!" He yelled. "Let go of that heirloom!"

"Ew!" Bulma screamed, flailing her leg out and landing a kick in his face. "Pervert!" Stunned, the bartender let go and fell back onto the floor. Feeling somewhat amused by this show, Vegeta pushed himself off the wall and readied his stance. He noticed as the drunk men who'd been sitting at the tables began to simultaneously push themselves up, making their way towards Bulma as she finally managed to pull herself back across the counter. She jumped down from the bar, ready to make her escape, but she found that she was suddenly surrounded as the crowd closed in on her.

"Hey!" One man yelled.

"Who do you think you are? You kicked Eddie!"

"What do y'all say we teach this one what happens to troublemakers?"

Up until now Vegeta hadn't spoken a single word. He raised an eyebrow, thinking that perhaps the Bluehead might have another plan up her sleeve. As he watched, Bulma shoved the dragonball into her shirt, backing away as the crowd advanced on her. Her eyes went wide when her back collided with the counter behind her. She quickly grabbed the first thing she could – the mug of beer that had been served to her, and she flung it at the mob.

Her aim was faulty at best, and it crashed into the concrete floor half a meter short of even colliding with any of the angry villagers that were advancing on her. It was with this that they all froze, looking at the mixture of broken glass and alcohol that now lay in a sloppy puddle in front of them. A silence had suddenly befallen the saloon, everyone registering what had just happened as Bulma stood breathless, her chest heaving as she tried to think of what to do.

Finally Vegeta stepped forward. "Well?" He called, and everyone looked up to see him.

"Well, what?" Bulma replied, the villagers turning back to her…

"Well, what the hell was THAT supposed to achieve?!" Vegeta barked, waving his hands towards the splatter of broken glass.

"Shut up!" The Bluehead snapped. "It was worth a shot!"

It was then that the mob of men all broke into a fit of laughter. "Feisty little thing, ain't she!" One heckled. "You gonna put a leash on your woman, mister!?"

Vegeta was going to snarl something insulting back, but he heard a high-pitched scream that took his attention instead. The saiyan whipped around to see Bulma being pulled back onto the counter. The bartender had an arm wrapped around her throat as she struggled, holding a knife in another hand. He was rearing his teeth and dragging her closer to his body, blood dripping from his nose where she'd kicked him.

"Get her, Eddie!" Someone shouted. "Teach her some respect!"

Eddie, the bartender, rolled a fingertip across Bulma's shoulder, making a straight path for her breast. That was the farthest he got. A moment later he let out a loud curse, feeling as if his arm had been ripped from his own body. He fell back, looking up to see Vegeta standing over him. "Touch her again, and you'll die." The saiyan growled. Eddie looked to his side to see a line of blood dripping down his arm, his breath heaving as he wondered what the hell had just happened.

"Help!" Bulma suddenly cried, and Vegeta whipped around to see that the mob had made their way to the counter now. She was being pulled off the counter by the legs, the drunk men jeering around her as her body was slowly dragged into the crowd. "Stop! Don't touch me! Ew!" She was screaming, coiling frantically as she tried to fight her way out of their hold.

'What a troublesome Woman,' The saiyan sighed. He spat down at Eddie before jumping for the Bluehead, landing punches in the faces of the five men who were holding her. Bulma fell to the ground as soon as they let go, and Vegeta quickly scooped her up and flung her over his shoulder. "Such a bother!" He growled, jumping into the air and flying over everyone's heads as they made their exit. Glasses and chairs were being thrown at them as they went, and Bulma clamped her eyes shut as Vegeta dodged the objects during his charge. It was only a moment later that they were outside and disappearing into the distance as the air whipped around them.

.

"I don't want to cause a commotion, she said!" Vegeta yelled over the sound of the wind slapping against them. "Act normal, she said! And then she goes and kicks their leader in the face!"

"He wasn't their leader!" Bulma yelled. They had stopped briefly so she could rearrange herself into a more comfortable position. Her arms clapped around his shoulders as she hung from his back, her head resting in the arch of his neck. "And we got it, didn't we?!"

"You didn't even want me to go with you, and you would've been pillaged if I hadn't been there! Stupid Woman!"

"My name is not Woman!" She barked in his ear. "It's Bulma!" Regardless, she couldn't argue with what he was saying. She really didn't know what would have happened if he hadn't been there to bail her out, and the idea of that was enough to confuse her dearly. This was the same man she was supposed to be terrified of – who she'd watched carry out brutal attacks, and yet she was overwhelmed with some strange type of gratitude in knowing that he was going to keep her safe during this journey. Her grip around his shoulders tightened as she thought, her eyebrows furrowing. Not caring to listen to any more of the lecturing he had for her, she closed her eyes and buried her face into his shoulder to shield herself from the slapping wind.

.

"So, this is it."

The two had stopped for the time, sitting at the table in Bulma's capsule house as they looked at the three-star dragonball she'd retrieved. The Bluehead had her radar in her hand, staring at the dot on its screen as she nodded. "Yes. No doubt about it, this isn't a fake."

"Hm…" Vegeta leaned towards the ball, prodding it with a finger. He wasn't quite sure of what he'd been expecting, but he hadn't imagined the dragonball to look like an oversized marble. "So, we need six more."

"Right." Bulma breathed, shoving the radar back in her pocket. She had a small plate of noodles at her side, and she began to pick at it as they spoke. Her stomach was painfully growling. It was 3 or 4 in the afternoon now, and hadn't eaten yet that day.

"You do understand that there's no way you'll be allowed to retrieve any of the others without my supervision." The saiyan grunted, pushing himself back from the dragonball and looking at the woman. "Any chances of that were eliminated after seeing your technique today."

"At least I got the damned thing!" Bulma snapped, slamming a hand down on the table. She quickly shoveled another bite of noodles into her mouth, chewing furiously before swallowing it down. Her cheeks were turning red, not pleased with being lectured yet again. "You don't give me enough credit, you know! We wouldn't have even known where the ball was if it hadn't been for me!"

"Right. And what good does that do us if you're going to be violated by a bunch of angry drunks a minute after finding it?" Vegeta glared. "If I hadn't been there, you know what they would have done to you."

"Yeah, well…" Bulma said dumbly, her cheeks burning. He had a point. "Well… thanks." Her shoulders relaxed as she sank back into her seat.

"Such a strange Woman…" The saiyan muttered, looking back down at the dragonball and taking it into his hand.

"My name isn't Woman!" The Bluehead hissed.

"Right. Right. Your name is Bulma."

"Yes. It is! So start using it!"

"Yeah." The saiyan waved his hand dismissively, eying the ball as he held it up to his face. He still couldn't believe that such a small thing was going to be the key to his immortality. It seemed to be generating no power at all!

"So, what's your name, anyway?"

The question was enough to make the saiyan look up from the ball, raising an eyebrow as he glared at the Bluehead sitting across from him. "You sure talk a lot for such a weak creature."

The Bluehead crossed her arms, a puffy pout laying across her face. "I'm just trying to get to know you!" She said with a 'hmph', and made to stand up from the table. "And I am not weak!"

"Vegeta."

"Listen, buddy! I don't know what the hell a Vegeta is, so your insult means nothing! You need to stop making fun of me! I did the best I could and it's not as if-"

"My name is Vegeta!"

"Oh." She sat back down. "Your name is Vegeta?"

"That's what I just said, damnit!"

"Oh…" She let out an awkward giggle, grabbing her plate of noodles again and scooping a bundle into her mouth. "So, I can call you Vegeta from now on."

"I'd assume you would, since that's my name…" Vegeta rolled his eyes. "Enough with the small talk. How far are we from the next dragonball?"

"It'll take us a day to get there. The next one appears to be due East."

"Excellent. I expect no delays." The saiyan shoved the dragonball in his pocket and nodded, crossing his arms and looking at Bulma expectantly.

"Well, I need a bath before I start." She replied with a scowl. "I'm covered in gross pervert sweat and beer drippings."

The saiyan didn't reply, so Bulma stood up and began to make her way across the room. It was when she got to the door to the bathroom that she heard him again, pushing himself up from the table and following after. "Hey." He said, and she turned around with wide eyes. He was coming right for her, and for a moment she was on edge. Why was he following her into her bathroom after she'd announced she was going to bathe?

"Your back is still injured." He muttered, only a meter away now. With a scowl on his face he reached an arm out, and Bulma looked down to see something in his hand. "Take this."

Her eyes widened, taking the purple tube from Vegeta's fingers, and she looked up to give him a quizzical look.

"It's designed to heal flesh wounds during combat. Such injuries are laughable, so I don't have use for this crap. Rub it into your burns before you bathe."

"How do I know this isn't a trick?" She scowled, her fingers squeezing the tube as if she would shove it back in his hands.

"I don't have time for arguments. Do whatever you want." He replied, almost sounding tired, before turning and walking away. Bulma watched as he disappeared into the bedroom, her fingertips tracing the tube he'd given her. He'd described the ointment as if he'd come from the army – how odd… He spoke of people on Earth as if he was not one of them, and they were foreign to him. He was undeniably strong, ate like a whale, and could even fly…

At least she now knew what his name was, but that didn't do much to soothe the curiosity in her mind. "Vegeta," She whispered, backing into the bathroom and closing the door. "Who are you?"