"Have a seat Vegeta," Mr. Briefs pointed to a chair. "Has Goku explained everything to you?"

"He told me that I will receive free room and board, and a substantial monthly salary to provide protection for your family," Vegeta replied as he sat down.

"Yes, that's right," Mr. Briefs replied. "He probably also explained that I'm in the bootleg business. Not only do I manufacture and sell about 500,000 bottles of moonshine per year, but I also invent things such as weapons. That puts my family at risk with police and criminals alike. I am also the only person in the world with this kind of smuggling technology." Mr. Briefs threw a small capsule onto the sofa table and BOM! A bottle of whisky appeared.

At that moment, Vegeta heard a noise behind him. He and Mr. Briefs turned to see Bulma coming down the stairs in a black dress that came down just below her knees. Her blue hair had been bobbed since he'd last seen her. As Bulma walked seductively toward them, Vegeta noticed her stockings were rolled down leaving her knees exposed with each step she took. What had he gotten himself into?

Bulma strode up to the men, and reached out and grabbed her father's cigarettes from the arm of the chair on which he sat. She sat down on the arm of the couch and crossed one leg over the other, and bounced her foot up and down. Bulma put a cigarette up to her ox blood colored lips, lit it, and inhaled deeply while she looked at her father. Bulma turned her head toward her mother and exhaled the smoke, then turned to smile at Vegeta.

Mrs. Briefs gasped in horror and put the back of her hand to her forehead. She staggered, feigning that she would pass out. "Mr. Briefs, tell her that's no way for a lady to behave!" she demanded. She fanned her face with her hand. "Oh, what has become of our only daughter," Mrs. Briefs moaned quietly as she plopped down in a chair.

Mr. Briefs sat shocked for a moment before yelling, "Young lady! See what you've done to your mother! You put that cigarette out this instant! You may be an adult, but you show us the respect that we deserve as your parents!"

Bulma took another long drag. She stood up and sashayed toward the stairs, cigarette still in hand. After she had disappeared up the stairs, an amused Vegeta turned to see a dismayed Mr. Briefs.

"For crying out loud!" Mr. Briefs turned to his crying wife. "Stop it!"

Mr. Briefs turned back to Vegeta. "I know that Bulma is an adult, and I can't tell her what to do anymore, but I still try. One day, without warning, she bobbed her hair, and started wearing those short dresses and that was it! Before we knew it, she was going to 'smoking parties' with her friends and wearing make-up. Now she's dating that Yamcha fella." Mr. Briefs shook his head. "This is why I need you to look after her. I fear that someone will figure out she's my daughter and harm her to get to me."

"She says she's a Flapper!" Mrs. Briefs added through her sobs.

"Don't you EVER use that word in this house!" Mr. Briefs yelled to his wife. His face reddened with anger.

"Could someone show me to my room?" Vegeta interrupted.

"Huh?" Mr. Briefs snapped out of his fury. "Oh, absolutely." Mr. Briefs led Vegeta to his room upstairs. "You even have a phone in your room for privacy," Mr. Briefs pointed it out when they stepped into the room. "I will have one of my men bring in your things. I'll make sure Bulma lets you know if she plans to leave tonight. Thank you for taking this job." Mr. Briefs left, closing the door after him.

Vegeta groaned to himself. This was going to be a nightmare! He stormed over to the phone, dialed Goku's number, and waited.

"Hello?" Goku answered.

"You asshole! How could you do this to me? I didn't realize that providing protection for the Briefs included babysitting Bulma! I'm an Saiyan Prince, not a NANNY! Do you understand? You get over here now and take this job!" Vegeta growled.

"You know I can't. ChiChi would never allow it," Goku replied. "You're the only one who can do this job. You know as well as I do that their family is in need of protection. Bulma's father is a genius with inventions that can, and probably will bring trouble. Her father asked ME, his right-hand man, to pick a qualified man to provide this service. You should feel honored that I picked you to do this job. Everyone wants to work directly for the Boss of Bosses, Mr. Briefs."

"What about that sap, Yamcha? Aren't he and Bulma an item? Make HIM do it!" Vegeta yelled.

"No. Everyone feels that Yamcha is a coward and couldn't be relied upon to protect anyone," Goku answered calmly. "You are being paid well for this job, and you have a nifty place to stay for awhile! Or would you rather be homeless?"

"I don't care about the fifty thousand dollars! GRRRRRRR!" Vegeta slammed the phone down. I have my own plans. He smirked.

A knock on the door startled Vegeta. He opened the door to see Bulma. She pushed past him and sat down on his bed. Vegeta took a deep breath to calm down and grabbed his luggage that was sitting outside the door. He tossed it into the corner and turned to look at Bulma.

"Butt me," she smiled and held her hand out.

"What in the hell are you talking about?" Vegeta asked impatiently.

"Cigarette. Give me one." she demanded. She continued to hold her hand out as Vegeta pulled one out and handed it to her. She put it in her lips and waited. "Well?" she asked.

Vegeta grumbled as he dug out his lighter and held it up to her cigarette. He then lit his own and dropped the lighter into his pocket.

"I'm not going anywhere tonight," Bulma informed him. She paused to inhale from her cigarette. "Tomorrow night I have a date with Yamcha though. My father insists that you go too. Maybe you can drive us, huh?"

"Whatever," Vegeta snapped as he sat in a chair and took a drag from his cigarette. He leaned forward and covered his face with his hands.

"So," Bulma broke the long silence. "You're from the same place as Goku, right? From Vegetasai? No wonder you are so handsome."

"Oh my God! Are you still here?" Vegeta groaned from behind his hands.

Bulma stood up. "Sheesh! You don't have to cast a kitten!" She stomped to the door mumbling, "Talk about getting the icy mitt!" She slammed the door behind her.

* * * * *