"Would you look at this mess. I don't think there's a mirror in this place that hasn't been smashed to pieces. I've heard some people go a little crazy during the holidays but this takes the cake." The diminutive police officer remarked to his partner as they two walked through the empty store, regarding the destruction around them. With every step they or the junior officers took, the whine and crack of broken glass underfoot could be heard. When the call had been picked up by dispatch, none of the officers on duty could believe the complaint, and even walking through the disaster area the reality of the situation still hadn't sunk in. That all of this damage was caused by the store's top catalogue model made the circumstances all the more baffling.

"Two to one odds the guy was popping or snorting something, sounds like he hung with a fast crowd. I still don't know why we were called out to this, except for some heavy duty vandalism this isn't a place for a major police investigation." Jackson replied, staring at the shards of glass that remained on one of the full-length mirrors in the ladies evening wear department. His trained eyes caught the dried remnants of bloods along the sharp edge and he shuddered at the thought that someone could smash so many mirrors with their bare fists, even to the point of causing them to bleed. Drugs, he repeated to himself, it has to be drugs.

Looking over at his partner, Krillin appeared to be lost in thought, the smaller man's eyes trained to the front door as if expecting someone to join them.

"What's the matter, Krillin?" Jackson's voice rang out. At the sound of his name, Krillin turned back to his partner, his normally jovial expression set deep in thought.

"It's nothing, just a feeling of déjà vu. I feel like we've been here before, it was like this but different. I could almost sense that someone was coming to answer your question …" The detective didn't get a chance to finish his sentence when a young uniform walked in, escorting a young, beautiful woman with long blue hair and a determined look on her face.

"Sorry detective, I know you said the public wasn't allowed in but she insisted, said she was an employee. I checked her pass, sir, and she's one of the women you wanted to question about the suspects." Jackson merely glanced at the woman, taking the opportunity to admire her appearance for a moment before he dismissed the younger cop. The uniformed officer bowed in respect then nearly bolted for the door, watching the woman as if she might attack him at any moment. Maybe it was something in the air, he thought, revising his earlier assumption. It seemed as if everyone had been going a little crazy this day.

The young 'dragon' lady had not shown any signs of biting off anyone's head just yet, her attention focussed on the mess of broken glass on the carpeted floors. Looking at her more closely, a forgotten synapse in his brain fired and he suddenly remembered her but not why or how. Whatever weirdness had overcome his partner seemed to be spreading.

Dismissing his uncertainties, Jackson was ready to get the interview started, the list of employees was long and the two suspects had many acquaintances in the store, friends and enemies alike. He wondered which category the young woman fell into; her expression was that of strength and determination but there was still a kindness and innocence which shone in her eyes. Physically she looked like a little powder puff but there was obviously more there if she caused such trepidation in Toen. The young officer was always very skilled and efficient in his duties but to disobey a direct order, the young woman must have some guts.

Coughing lightly, he hesitated for a moment, caught in that powerful blue gaze until he scolded himself and began his questions.

"Excuse me, Miss?"

"Briefs, Bulma Briefs." A most unexpected voice replied as Krillin gazed at the young Ms. Briefs in awe. Truly this was getting curiouser and curiouser. At the sound of her name, the woman turned her attention to his partner, her own eyes going wide with recognition, or maybe it was the uncanny sense of déjà vu that seemed to be affecting everyone today. Whatever thoughts were going through her head, she quickly covered them up, her expression becoming determined once more, though her lips softened into a half smile.

"You are very perceptive, Detective. I must ask, have you ever worked for my father's company? You look very familiar but I unfortunately can't place your face." At her compliment, Krillin blushed and grinned, his hand absently scratching the back of his head until his better sense came back to him.

"I've never had the pleasure, Miss, and I can honestly say I can't remember ever meeting you either." The small detective admitted, and Jackson held back a groan of disgust as he watched his partner acting like a school boy.

"If you are quite finished with your pleasantries, we are running an investigation and since you were so eager to get in you won't mind answering a few question, Miss Briefs?" Jackson asked, expecting the girl to make it easy and meekly obey his request. Luck, it seemed, wasn't with him this day.

"I would, Detective," she replied, displaying a bit of the nerve which must have intimidated the police guard at the door. "But first I want to know who or what I'm going to be answering questions about, and what caused this." She demanded, gesturing at the destroyed second floor. "When I asked the officers outside they were unwilling to tell me, but since this obviously is concerning someone I'm acquainted with and possibly myself, since it sounds like you are questioning most of the people working on this floor yesterday." About to snap back that a police investigation was none of her business, Krillin stepped in and spoke up, his expression and tone showing that he respected and trusted the unabashed woman.

"From what we can tell from the security tapes from last night, one of the catalogue models, a Yamcha, went crazy after a late night shoot and systematically destroyed every mirror on this floor with his bare hands. He didn't stop until early this morning when another employee, a Miss Gisele Lee entered the store. The two of them were seen arguing, shouting to the point where blows were thrown." From the widening of her eyes, it was obvious that she knew of the pair, though whether the relationship was benevolent or not Jackson could not tell.

"Yamcha didn't hurt her?" She finally asked, her tone hinting of previous knowledge of violent behaviour, perhaps from her own experiences, he wondered. Whatever her history was, he almost laughed out when he answered her question.

"No, quite the opposite, Miss Lee broke his nose and split his lip. From the looks of it, Mr. Yamacha didn't raise a hand to defend himself. He is currently in custody asking for repentance, promising to pay for all the damages, and babbling about needing to beg forgiveness from several individuals, and what do you know, your name is on the list, Miss Briefs." Whatever shock she was originally experiencing was now overshadowed by these new developments, those blue eyes going in wide in amazement. For a moment that kindness and compassion that she showed had earlier when she was talking to Krillin had now come through, as if an old wrong had been righted.

"From his statement and your expression I can guess that the two of you know each other; you wouldn't happen to know what might have triggered such behaviour, would you, Miss Briefs?" Bulma was shocked beyond words, not wishing to reveal her sordid past and at a complete loss as to how to explain what she had just heard. Some where in the back of her head she remembered a slip of a memory with a mirror, Yamcha and pain but everything else was a blur. Dismissing the strange thought, she prepared herself to answer their questions about her and Yamcha's past, staring the two detectives down, her countenance strong and free of the fear that normally swept through her when this subject was breached.

"You are correct in your assumptions. Yamcha and I were close at one point, intimately so but it all ended very badly about six months ago and I hope you will respect my privacy in this. Since that time I haven't talked to or had any kind of contact with him, anything I know about him now is from the snippets of gossip I hear in the break room. I haven't heard of any problems he might be having and I can't for the life think of a reason he would destroy mirrors. As long as I've known him he loved looking in the mirror at himself. If he was into anything, those kinds of questions would be better asked to him or any of his friends, though you probably already know their names. Now, if you would excuse me, I have to find Mr. Bakna and Mr. Fuku." She said, hoping that either man could tell her if the floor and clothing department managers were in the building.

"I believe that's all for now, though I had some questions of my own. If you wish, we can do it while I take you to the break room, if that's alright with you, Ty?" The friendly and oddly familiar officer said, walking off before either she or his partner could answer him. Deciding to take the offer, Bulma bowed her thanks to the black detective before she followed the strange, bald officer to the break room. This encounter was like a link in a chain of strange events and unexplained incidents that had been happening to her all day, even last night. She had woken up in the middle of the night, covered in sweat with the images of the most horrific nightmare in her head, of people that she didn't know with her in a dark, terrifying place. They were all fighting these hideous creatures, their efforts all against one great evil. The details were all muddled and confused, the only other thing she could recall was the moment she had died, the image burned into her memory. She was in pain beyond anything she could imagine, held lovingly and desperately by a dark, powerful man. At the very end he kissed her, whispering something in her ear and she suddenly woke up. After forcing herself to forget the most gruesome parts of the nightmare, she was finally about to drift off to sleep again, this time he dreams were much more peaceful. Where ever she was it was warm, and bright, and safe, all pain, worries and fears completely melting away. She could remember voices, all speaking in a language she didn't know. The one time she had opened her heavy eyelids and focused on the crowd, she had found that every eye was set on her, all of them warm, benevolent but very powerful. After that she simply slipped back under the veil of sleep and didn't awake until the sun peaked through her window.

Already her memory of the dreams were growing vaguer, the images fading. Yet, she was getting an eerie sense of déjà vu since she had opened her eyes, and that wasn't the only change that had come over her this day. Like a weight being lifted from her shoulders, she felt the anxieties and fears that had been her constant companion for six months melt away. For the first time since that night she had not worn her glasses to work, or those frumpy clothes she used to hide herself in. She had also come to a decision about her life and had come to work determined to fulfil her goal. The police barricade in front of the entrances was a further shock, but became only a mild annoyance as she argued and reasoned her way inside. Her charge had halted when she saw the destruction around her, coupled with meeting the two unusual and strangely familiar detectives. Lost in thought, she was caught unaware as the short man leading her until he began to speak.

"I know this must sound very weird to you, Miss, but I'm sure you have a connection to what happened last night, though I don't think that's a bad thing, or that you're guilty of anything. Something strange is going on, you feel it too, don't you? It's like, well, I don't know how to describe but there is more happening than just what is on the surface. Oh well, on to the nasty stuff. I do have one question to ask you, a bit more formal; what time did you leave the store last night?" Bulma had been smiling at the humorous detective, feeling oddly comfortable in his presence. At his question, she paused, another memory or dream coming back to her, this one too faint for her to remember anything specific. She absently brought her hand up to her neck, tugging at the chain of her locket.

"I was a little late leaving the store. I lost track of time during my break and when I came back I had to stay an extra half an hour on shift, the clerk on duty in men's casuals and Mr. Bakna can verify that I left a little late."

"And what were you doing on your break?" The detective continued and Bulma blushed, knowing that it would sound too unbelievable to be true.

"I was in the leather department, and no, detective, I wasn't trying things on or anything of the sort. There is a quiet, little spot there, it helps me think." And gives me a chance to daydream about a mannequin, she remarked to herself.

"I'm sorry to ask, but it seems that several hundred dollars of inventory, mostly in the jewellery and woman's department, has been stolen. The owners thought that last night's destruction might have been involved but we suspect that it's an inside job."

"I can honestly tell you, detective, I have never taken anything from this store, aided another to do so, or seen another employee doing such a thing, and if you are accusing me…"

"No, Miss, it was just a suspicion that we are checking up on. And yes, I trust your word that you have nothing to do with either of these incidents, directly anyway. There is something about you, Miss Briefs. I've always considered myself a good judge of character and there is a definite goodness in you, I hope you will take care of yourself." Shocked by the officer's kind words, she was about to return the compliment when something, or rather someone broke the amiable silence.

"How dare you, you bastard. Unhand me or I swear I'll scream harassment so fast you'll be lucky if your giving out parking tickets." A voice that more resembled a rabid cat than a human shrieked out and both Bulma and the officer looked up in amazement. There, wearing a red, skin tight cat suit and hissing, scratching and spitting like a feline, was Gisele being escorted out of the break room.

"What is going on here?" The detective commanded of the junior officer, his gaze darting back between the furious woman and the unfortunate young man leading her away. Behind them another policeman walked out of the break room with an overstuffed gym bag in one hand and a dozens of pieces of expensive jewellery in the other.

"Krillin-sempai, we were looking through the employees' lockers and we came across the stolen inventory in Miss Lee's. From the lists the store issued us, everything that had gone missing in the last three weeks from the ladies department is here with the tags still on. As far as we can tell, sir, she's been taking some items from each shipment that was coming in, considering she's the head of the department, no one questioned her about the inventory counts." The second man said as Gisele was being handcuffed.

"She's been doing it for ages, last night she was going to take this latest stash home with her, either sell it for drugs or keep it for herself. Oh Kami, she's so red, blood and corruption stain her." A new voice said and Bulma gasped in surprised. Also wearing handcuffs but acting far calmer than Gisele, Yamcha walked out of the break room. With his shoulders slumped, eyes black and bloodshot, and nose, mouth and hands blooded, Bulma hardly recognised her former beau. Even his voice, normally so warm and confident was harsh and cold and full of remorse as he confessed Gisele's sin to the growing crowd of police officers and store employees. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched Mr. Bakna recoil in horror as his golden girl was being led away in cuffs and her crimes revealed to the world.

"You bastard, this is a fine time for you to develop a conscience. Don't think I won't take you down with me, Yamcha, or you, Bakna. I know where all the skeletons are. Who do you think was tweaking the inventory numbers for me, and taking a cool five percent from the final cash totals every day for the past two months." The blonde Barbie doll screamed out as she was led out towards the employee exit and a waiting police car. As the gathered crowd watched her go, Bulma slipped through them, needing to say her peace more now than ever. Fighting back a small smirk of satisfaction as Gisele was taken away, she nearly jumped a foot when a large warm hand cupped her cheek.

"I'm sorry, Bulma. I'm sorry for treating you the way I did, for being the man I was. I just hope it's not too late for me. Kami, it's such wondrous light." The last line he simply whispered so lightly, Bulma wasn't sure she heard him. A pit of sadness and sorrow formed in her stomach, not just for Yamcha but for something more, for memories she couldn't recall and emotions she didn't understand. Taking his blooded hand in hers, she gave it a little squeeze, her throat suddenly too raw to speak. It seemed to be enough for the man as he squeezed hers back, thanking her for the forgiveness she offered him. With that, Bulma continued walking, ready to overcome the last hurdle of her old existence.

"Bakna, what is the meaning of this? What do you have to say for yourself?" The head of the clothing department growled to his underling as Gisele was led away. The second floor manager for his part was speechless, his bulbous greasy face was bathed in sweat as he turned and faced his furious superior.

"Actually, Mr. Bakna, you have the right not to say anything as it's my privilege to tell you that you are under arrest for fraud and grand larceny. You can of course talk to a lawyer if you want, and if you don't have one or can't afford one, we can provide you with one. Now do you have anything you would like to say, Mr. Bakna? No then, well did you have anything to say, Mr. Fuku?" Krillin said as he slipped a set of handcuffs onto the stunned floor manager.

"Yes, I do. Bakna, you're fired and you will be seeing our lawyers in civil court." Realising the weight of what was happening to him, Bakna, unlike Gisele, wept and moaned as he was escorted from his floor, his place of power, towards the waiting police car.

Bulma watched in amazement as the two banes of her existence were led away; to say that it was a strange day was an understatement, and it wasn't even noon yet.

"Good morning, Miss Briefs." A voice behind her said and she turned and bowed to Mr. Fuku. "I cannot believe Bakna, do you know that he was the one that recommended Miss Lee for the head of women's wear over you. After the events of today I can see what a mistake that was and I wish to rectify it as I should have done in the first place. Miss Briefs, you are the new head of women's fashion." The department manager declared and Bulma bit her lip in apprehension. Here it was, the dream she had worked so hard for and wanted for so long handed on a silver platter. Had this come six months ago she might have jumped for joy, or just last week she would have been thrilled, but now she knew her place wasn't here. The simple dream that had brought her to Tokyo and Shordar's was over, she was different, more mature than the young girl who had dreamed of that post. When she woke up that morning she knew her destiny lay elsewhere.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Fuku but I cannot accept the position. I decided today that I had to quit, where ever my life was meant to go it is not here. I wish to thank you for all that you did for me, sir, and I hope you will accept my resignation." The older man could only smile at the young woman, noticing the change in her from the young, naïve, girl he had first hired. The large sweaters, round glasses and matronly shop girl she had been only the day before had been replaced overnight but a strong, confident and beautiful woman.

"I guess there is nothing more to say, Miss Briefs, except to keep yourself safe. I hope you never lose that goodness you have, and may the gods of fortune bless you in this new endeavour." Bowing her thanks, Bulma left, left her old job, her old life, her former dream and miseries behind her. There was only one more thing she had to do, she decided, taking the long route out of the store.

Walking through the leather coats to a familiar display, Bulma smiled up at the pure black eyes and handsome face of her inert confidant. Like a rock in the tossing waves, or a light in the darkness, he was there for her, even if he could never breath or move. These feelings though were compounded as déjà vu swept over her again and she remembered the sound of his breath, the warmth of his skin and the strength of arms. However much she wanted to sit down and talk to him as she always had or daydream about what he would be like, she fought the urge. This was a test, first to see if she could give up her old dream, now to see if she face her life on her own. She knew she owed more than she could ever repay to this man, both the solid form and what he represented in her darkest hours. There were also her memories and emotions that she couldn't explain, of his loyalty, affection and desire to protect her. It was hard to express everything she was experienced into words, so she said the only thing that could encompass all she felt.

"Thank you." Bulma whispered to the mannequin and before anyone could see her display, she left behind the trappings of her old life and faced the new day. For some reason that morning she had read through the horoscopes, 'expand your horizons with travel and new people' it had told her. Smiling at her own silliness she wondered where the gods of fortune would lead her.

***

"I'm so sorry, Miss, I didn't see you. Please, let me help you up." The first lesson she was going to have to learn was to keep her eyes forward, Bulma chided herself as she grabbed at the offered hand and was pulled to her feet. Feeling alive for the first time in months, she had been marvelling at the wonders of Tokyo and not paying attention to what was in front of her nose.

"It was my own fault for not paying attention, don't worry about it, Miss …" Bulma replied to the young woman in front of her. Her bright red hair and sparkling green eyes caught Bulma off guard. Red hair and green eyes, she always remembered her mother's stories about powerful spirits with those particular features and a she felt a touch of childish fear at the young woman. At that moment the other woman blushed and smiled and all of her fears were wiped away by the kind gesture.

"Mona, Mona Ingenu. I am terribly sorry. I just moved into a new apartment and I got lost. You wouldn't happen to know where Nodoka street is?" Nodding the affirmative, the two women began to walk and chat, until they reached the large apartment complex on Nodoka.

"Funny," Bulma replied to her newest acquaintance. "Normally Rai, our security guard and door man is here but I haven't seen him all day." Dismissing the giant man's absence, the pair walked into the building, still talking as they reached the elevator and both learned in to push the button to the same floor.

"I still feel horrible for knocking you over, would a late lunch be enough to appease any bad feelings?" Mona asked hopefully as they reached their respective apartments.

"Of my ire you shouldn't worry, my stomach on the other hand feels like it's empty so you might be regretting your offer." Bulma replied.

"Ha, I'm the champ for putting back food so I accept the challenge. I'll swing by your place in a couple minutes, okay? Spoiling food waits for no one and I have to get this stuff in the fridge."

"No problem, I'm just going to change into something more comfortable and check my messages." The blue haired woman said before she closed her door. Slipping off her heels, she saw the flashing red light of the answering machine on the hall table. Hitting it on her way into her bedroom, Bulma listened to her father's message, laughing at his exasperation over her mother's soap operas. After letting the message play through she grabbed her cell and left a note to herself to call her father when she got back from lunch. 'Expand your horizons with travel'; Malaysia sounded like a great place to start.

***

Above the sprawling yellow clouds, in a reality beyond time and space, a dark, lone figure watched the events of the mortal world. He wore a bored expression on his face, the result of twenty years of masking all emotion from his countenance. But, had anyone dared to noticing the intimidating man's eyes, they would have seen his wistful looks towards the mortal universe, at the tiny planet of Chikyuu and at a single blue haired, blue eyed beauty in particular.

After the temporal correction, as the angel had called it, and the council of the Kaious and other Celestials, Vegeta had left the planets of the Celestials and flown about in the demon plane between heaven and hell, awaiting his fate and avoiding it at the same time. His time alive had spoiled him, he did not wish to give up life again, and after his time with the woman, he could not face the horrors of Hell once more. Unsure of what to do, he had used his own ki powers and demonic abilities to see into the moral plane, searching out great fighters he might one day face, watching the spread of Freeza's empire. More often than not he found himself watching the woman as she went about her normal day, returning to her normal life with a few minor adjustments, and without him. Maybe it was the price he had to pay, better she never know of him than she experience pain, fear and death again. Though, she did remember some things, even if she didn't understand how or why. How ironic it was, even with the power of Heaven and the all mighty Kaious behind it, they couldn't reverse everything with their power.

"Not everything can be erased." A voice said behind him and Vegeta growled in response. Here was another irony, the demon hunter who had been sent to destroy him was his greatest defender at his hearing, which, Vegeta assumed, must have just finished.

"Explain it to me then before you send me back to Hell. Will she ever remember me or what happened, and why can she still remember it now?" The Saiyajin Prince demanded, not turning to acknowledge the stoic Yashimoto.

Smiling at the hidden hope he could see in the Saiyajin's mind, the angel floated next to the Prince and looked down at the now sleeping woman who was the focus of Vegeta's interest. Time truly had no place here, it felt like a day had passed since the temporal correction but in earth time a month had already flown by . While a few casualties could not be fix, everything else had been repaired, much to Yashimoto's relief. The whole incident was now erased. It never happened and hopefully never would in the future.

"Like I said, not everything can be erased. When time is reversed some memories still linger, ones that made a strong impression on the individual, but most of the time, the memories are wiped clean. The situation is different for those who have mystic abilities or, in the case of our four humans, travelled to another plane of existence. Those memories are harder to destroy, if they are removed at all." Yashimoto said, this thoughts turning to the scarred human who started his whole investigation. "She may remember you but it would depend, some humans never forget their experiences, while other, like Miss Ingenu, discard them completely, unable to handle the thought of their own deaths. Now, if you don't have any more questions, I am ready to carry out the will of the council of elders." Under such a weight, Vegeta tensed, desperate to think of a question, of anything that would keep the demon hunter from sending him back to hell. He briefly considered attacking his new ally; they never did have that rematch. From the corner of his eye, he could see the blessed, angelic blade by Yashimoto's side and that plan fell to the waist side. Even if he were able to strike the angel fast enough, the demon hunter was immortal and he was not. No matter how strong he was or how long he might last, it was only delaying the inevitable, or worse, compounding his punishment. Resigning himself to the fate given to him, he asked the other question that plagued his mind since the temporal correction.

"What happened to the Demon Lord? I want to know who I'll be serving when I go back." At this question Yashimoto tensed, his expression darkened as he answered Vegeta's question.

"The Demon Lord is no more, the collective suffering and hatred of those who occupied the floor was enough to vaporise him. So far there has been no trace of him, neither our seers nor the scholar demon Stalaunt have sensed him. As for the black mist, it has disappeared also, maybe further down in the pits of Hell or into Chaos itself. The battle for the control of Lower Hell is still being fought and probably will for a millennium or longer. The rulers of the other Hell realms are battling one another for mastery of it, as are several of the higher ranked demons and monsters under the previous Demon Lord. Who knows, you might have been the next Demon Lord of Lord Hell. At the moment, it's controlled by a demoness, a certain Succubius acquaintance we both share. Anything else?" Damn him, Vegeta growled, the angel was taunting him. Here he had only a few more moments before he was banished to hell and all the demon hunter could do was talk down to him like a child. Like sand through an hour glass he knew his time was slipping away, only a few grains of sand remained before his sentence was carried out.

"Will I still keep my powers, my memories?" He asked, every breath feeling like his last.

"That is part of your sentence." Yashimoto replied, the Saiyajin Prince closing his eyes to await his fate, this time was up.

"It was the decision of the council by a margin of seven to six that you be returned from whence you came, with all powers and memories of your death and 'rebirth' intact, to serve out your sentence until the end of the natural Saiyajin life span." What in the Hells, Vegeta remarked to himself, his eyes darting open to stare at his celestial counterpart in disbelief.

"We may have that rematch one day, Vegeta, but until then, keep her safe."

The Saiyajin Prince didn't have a chance to reply as his vision went black.

***

"Where almost there, Miss Briefs, I'll radio ahead to the island so they can prepare for your arrival." The small supply boat captain said as the vessel neared the lush tropical island. Already Bulma could see the small, salt stained wooden dock and the rugged dirt road that led to the luxury villa in the centre of the island. A winsome smile broke out across her face at the paradise that would be her home for the next two week; well it would be paradise if it weren't for her father's overprotective streak.

"No, don't call ahead. I'll take up the supplies myself, there should be enough capsules to make it an easy job." She told the captain and the man complied, Bulma's strong voice and obvious authority leaving no room for him to object.

It had been a year since she had left her childhood dream in Tokyo and taken the position in Malaysia as the district supervisor in charge of the engineering department. Shordar's, she thought wistfully, she had been a completely different person back then, a young naïve girl with a childish dream who was so easily crushed. Since that time she had grown stronger, wanting to prove to everyone and herself that she was more than just a spoiled child but a confident, capable woman. Already in her first year she had improved the productivity of the plants under her supervision by sixty percent, doubled the sales venues and earned her name as a fierce and respected business woman and intelligent engineer. Though she had resisted the pull towards inventing and science that she got from her father, that Briefs determination and intelligence could not be quenched and she had been studying every technical and engineering manual she could. It had gotten to the point where she was working too hard, her parents nearly ordering her to take some time off to relax, suggesting that she enjoy the private island in the South China Sea. That sort of intervention she didn't mind, but she was furious at her father for his other condition to her vacation.

While news of the bizarre attack on Bulma old job was not highly publicised, her father had found out about it. Learning that his little girl had been an enemy of the criminals and the former girlfriend of a 'maniac', as her father called Yamcha, had brought up his protective nature. His apprehension only increased when Bulma told her parents about the attack that had force her and Yamcha's separation. Convinced that these events were a sign of her inability to protect herself and fear that someone might try again, her father had hired her a body guard who was now waiting for her on the island. Kami, if it wasn't bad enough that he had to meddle so much in her affairs, but to hire a man who she had never seen and expect her to let this complete stranger take over her life. What was she, five year old? This was so unfair, Bulma moaned to herself.

Images of a muscled bound Neanderthal with a double digit IQ or an arrogant, chauvinist pig came to mind and she felt the urge to scream. It was the first time in a year since she had a vacation, a chance to relax by herself but now she was going to be coddled or hit on by some man who would think she was a simpleton because her father was overprotective.

Sure he's dedicated to his job and intelligent, she sarcastically repeated her father's description. He must be intimidating if he could convince her father that he could be her bodyguard, but if that man thought he would be intimidating her and ordering her around, he was going to have a battle on his hands.

"We're here, Miss. Well just leave the supplies on the dock and you can take care of them?" The captain asked as one of his crew secured the gangplank and tied the boat to the dock. Simply nodding her agreement, Bulma left the cabin and gathered her personal belongings for the trip up to the villa. Grabbing her bag of capsules and basis supplies, she walked off the boat and onto the island that would be home for the next two weeks.

The humid air was thick with the scent of tropical flowers, mud and warm ocean breezes. It seemed like forever since she had truly enjoyed the sun, smelled the flowers, just relaxed. Her friend Mona had warned her about not taking enough time for herself, always telling her to get out more and find herself a man. She would probably love this set up, alone on a beautiful tropical paradise with a strong, possibly gorgeous guy. Come to think about it … stop it, Bulma chided herself, she didn't need any man to make her feel complete, Kami she still hadn't had sex yet.

The buzz of the supply boat's engine brought her back to reality. There was no turning back now. The ship wouldn't be back for another two weeks, though she did bring her hover car in case of an emergency. Grabbing a couple of empty storage capsules, she packed up all the supplies and started to hike through the forest. Only wearing a light tank top, short shorts and a pair of running shoes, she walked fearlessly through the jungle, mostly due to the fact that island was devoid of any deadly and dangerous snakes, animals or insects. Like a curious and amazed child, she found herself transfixed by the beauty of the palm trees, exotic plants and multi-coloured flowers. Knowing that when she got to the villa her adventure would be over, she decided to take the long route, maybe find a few good hiding places to escape from the agent of her father's neurosis.

After twenty minutes of walking through the thick growth brush though, Bulma soon found herself covered in sweat, that fact not helped by the high humidity. Wishing for nothing more than a cold shower, she didn't want to give up her freedom just yet and kept walking forward, the distant sound of water calling to her like siren. With every step the roar of rushing water grew louder and the smell of fresh, cool water filled her nostrils. Breathing deeply of the scent, Bulma giggled and started running towards the sound, gasping in awe when the forest parted and she looked out over the most beautiful lagoon and waterfall she had ever seen. Rushing from the top of the extinct volcano, the waterfall splashed over black, polished rock, feeding a large, almost mirror smooth pool. All around, flowers and thick, soft grasses grew near the edge of the pool while vines hung lazily overhead; perfect for swinging, Bulma thought. Bending down to gaze into the pool, it seemed devoid of life, the bottom was nothing but rich, black mud. From a distance it looked as if the lagoon was infinitely deep but it was probably just three metres deep in the middle. Cupping her hands together, she dipped them beneath the calm surface and sniffed the water, tasting it with the tip of her tongue. Cool, Bulma discovered with delight, and sweet.

Maybe it was the heat, the fact that she was alone, that she was so hot or that the water looked so inviting but in that moment, the no nonsense, hard line business woman turned into a free spirit. Glancing around just to make sure she was alone, Bulma slipped off all her clothes, even her undergarments and did a cannon ball into the cool, refreshing pond. She didn't know how long she had stayed in the water, splashing about, diving or just floating peacefully on the edge of sleep. Yawning and stretching, she began to swim back to her clothes, knowing that she would have to get to the villa soon. As fun as it was to play in the water, she wished she had someone else to share it with. With such wishful thoughts in her mind, she was caught unaware as a twig snapped behind her. Slipping back under the cover of the water, she turned in a circle, looking out into the forest for the source of the sound. Not sure of what to do, she slowly swam towards her discarded clothes and most importantly, her collection of capsules, hoping that one of them could help her. Only a few feet away from the bank, she suddenly found herself staring into a set of strong, muscular legs and thin hips clothed in a loose pair of green cargo pants. Curiosity got the better of her and she looked up, her courage rewarded by the sight of strong, powerful arms crossed over a wide, magnificent chest. Reaching the very top, Bulma's eyes went wide in amazement, not only was the man built like a Greek God, he was gorgeous; he was her mannequin come to life. With sharp angles and arrogant set of her jaw, the man oozed authority, physical strength and, much to her ruin of her state of mind, a potent sex appeal. His features, from the warm, olive skin, his ebony eyes, wildly spiky, pitch black hair and thick eyebrows, were dark and mysterious, speaking to the dangerous nature of the man. Bulma couldn't help but eep as she found herself locked in his gaze, a thousand thoughts and emotions swirled in those soul stealing eyes but not one of them came through except for pride and annoyance.

"You were supposed to be at the villa half an hour ago, woman." The mysterious man said, his voice deep and husky and Bulma felt her insides melt. She was so caught up in the sight and sound of this dark Adonis that she couldn't even respond to his question, or rather command. There was something so familiar about him, Bulma remarked to herself, like she had known him before, heard his voice, touched his skin, smelt that warm, musky scent of his, tasted his mouth. At the last thought a deep red blush stained Bulma's cheeks and she scolded herself, how could she let a man treat her like this, let alone turn her into a pile of mush.

"I'm sorry, but this is my two weeks of freedom and I will spend it however I wish, thank you very much. I also don't just answer strange men who feel it necessary to barge in on me while I'm naked; if you won't mind turning around?" She replied, her request more of a command that had to be obeyed. Unlike her employees and most other people she came across, he didn't bend to her wishes or give her the respect she deserved. Smirking down at her, he gave her a once over, noting for himself how naked she really was. Bulma, on the other hand, was not amused by his actions and scowled at him, mimicking his own akimbo stance as she tried to cover her breasts from view. While she had achieve a measure of dignity, the handsome intruder still hadn't turned around, he was instead staring her down, his chest vibrating as he chuckled at her predicament.

"Well if you're not going to have the decency to turn around the least you could do is tell me your name and why you are on my private island." Hell's teeth, she was magnificent, Vegeta remarked to himself as he watched her eyes narrow as she lifted her head defiantly. He still remembered the first time he had seen her, a beautiful but lost girl. So pure, virginal, she was the very image of kindness and mercy but with the first inkling of fire and passion in her. Oh what a difference a year made, he noted, a year, an encounter with one of the most powerful Demons ever known and death. Though her memories of that time had been erased, they had affected a powerful change in her. Her purity and kindness had not changed, her light was still bright enough to dissolve every shadow with a ten metre radius around her. This time though, the inkling of authority, that fire that he had seen flashes of, the electricity he had tasted in her the first time they kissed had blossomed into something more. What had been a beautiful, innocence girl was now a vibrate, passionate woman and she was making it hard for him not to dive into the pool and carry her out, or better yet, join her in the water.

"I asked you a question." She said again, this time the even tone of her voice wavered in rage and Vegeta chuckled all the harder.

"I heard you the first time, woman, I am not deaf, unlike some people. As to my name, it's Vegeta and that is the only name you will need. If you feel the need to call me 'your majesty' I respond to that as well. I am your personal body guard, Miss Briefs, and if you do everything that I say I can tell you I'm sure this arrangement will worked perfectly." From his telepathic sense he could hear her anger at him, coupled with her annoyance at herself for being so attracted to him. The two forces of desire and the desire to rip out his throat warred within her, but in the end a compromise was reached and she decided to ignore him, turning her back on him.

"Get out of there now, little one. You'll freeze if you stay in there too long, unless you want me to warm you." He asked suggestively and she shuddered, both of them knowing it had nothing to do with the temperature of the water. Once more she warred with herself and this time the fiery, passionate side winning out.

"Hmm, presumptuous jerk, as if I'd want you anywhere near my body. Since you seem so fond of ultimatums I'll give you one of my own, either you turn around and give me privacy or I'm not getting out."

"And if I refuse either." Vegeta asked, enjoying this game with her as he egged her on.

"The only way you're getting me out of this pool is if you dive in here and carry me out with your bare hands." Bulma proclaimed. Even though she couldn’t see it, Vegeta grinned widely and began unzipping and removing his clothes. Inside her mind, he sensed her nervousness about him. So much about her had changed but at her core she was still that pure, kind, innocent creature, still a virgin, he realised, since their encounter had technically never happened. She feared his strength, his presence, and her lack of control over him and herself over him. As much as he frightened her, that passionate part of her was loving this battle and wanted to continued, wanted him to dive in and get her.

"As you wish." He finally replied once he had rid himself of his unusual human clothes and dove under the surface of the pool. The Saiyajin grinned as he swam closer to now fleeing woman. While the pool wasn't eternal, and the forest around them not a mystic plane, he couldn't think of a place on this planet that had so resembled their former sanctuary.

As hard as the woman tried, she couldn't match his speed and in no time he was right behind her, grabbing hold of a shapely calf as he pulled her down beneath the surface of the pool. She was like a wild cat, spitting, scratching and kicking at him. She fought him with everything she had, even though both of them knew it wouldn't work. Vegeta took the beating for only a few moments before she finally tired, her eyes imploring him to release her, while she pointed to her mouth and the surface, indicating that she was out of air. Not wanting to let go of her just yet, he gently pulled her to him and kissed her firmly on the mouth, forcing her lips open and sharing his air with her. At their first touch she started fighting him again, but her resistance faded as he opened her mouth and breathed air into her starved lungs. Sensing her acceptance of him, he wrapped his arms around her, pressing her against him and she didn't fight it, even began to curl herself around him. So caught up in the kiss, she was unaware as they began to rise, breaking the surface and swimming slowly towards the edge of the pool and their clothes. When her back touched the bank, Bulma reluctantly pulled away. Caught up in the moment, she stared up at him with carefree infatuation, just as she had when they had first met. Wanting to freeze the moment, Vegeta couldn't help himself as he leaned in and whispered in her ear.

"Are you still death against having me next to your body?" Even as the words left his mouth, he counted down to the moment when she would erupt. It took a second for the words to reach her, for the peaceful expression to fall from her face and for the fire to start burning in her eyes. By the count of three she was in a rage, eyes snapping, cheeks flushed, her aura of light burning a bright red. Chuckling at the sensual picture she presented, he fought the urge to kiss her again, finally releasing her. Like a wet cat, she crawled out of the water, growling at him, even as her thoughts were focussed on how good the kiss was and how warm and safe she felt in his arms. Slipping on her top and shorts, she glared at him and started walking off in a huff towards the path and the luxury villa that would be their home for the next two weeks. As soon as she was past the edge of his sight he floated out of the water and landed softly on the bank. Using his ki to drink himself, he quickly donned his human coverings again, securing his tail around his waist with the greatest of care. Even though he couldn't see her, her smell, thoughts and that brilliant light of hers was still flooding his senses. Past her anger and embarrassment over what had happened, he saw, smelt and felt her desire to do it again. Her curiosity was running in overdrive as she thought about if or when it would happen again, and want would happen if it went further. Stalking after her through the dense brush he wondered the same thing, hoping that this was just the beginning. If nothing else, it was going to be an entertaining two weeks.

The End
(Yes, it is. I'm sorry but if you want more you'll have to use your imagination ;P)