Disclaimer- Again, I don't own DBZ.

A/N - Again, there might be a little OOCness, but I'm really trying to quit, lol.

Last Time

"The police are coming." Bulma's voice trembled.

"They'll be too late for you." He walked towards the Yamcha-sized hole in the wall.

"No!" Bulma shrieked, groping behind her and finding the knife rack. Blindly, she pulled one out and held it in front of her. "Stay away."

The Urako Incident


He smirked. There was no expression, no feeling whatsoever behind it. It was as if he was a programmed machine. "Knives don't hurt me."

Bulma threw it with all her might. It went through his heart.

He still stood. Shaking his head, he stood aside. Bulma could see the knife lying on the carpet behind him. There was a dent in the wall where it must have hit and then dropped. Again he smirked and started walking forward.

'He dodged it!' Bulma thought frantically. 'He's at least as strong as Goku was before he turned super saiyan. I'm going t o kill Vegeta! He should be here!'

"I am superior to you, Bulma. How could you possibly hurt me if your boyfriend couldn't?"

"He's not my boyfriend!" Bulma screamed, reaching behind her for the other knives and hurling them at the man in a fury. Keeping one in her hand, she bolted out of the kitchen and turned down a small hallway.

She opened the first door. A closet. She opened the first door. A closet. She left it opened and practically flew to the second door. A bathroom. There were two doors left. She could hear his footsteps on the kitchen tile. A TV room. No windows. Not that she could jump from the 3rd floor anyway. She ran to the end of the hallway and frantically turned the knob. She could hear faint sirens. Then man was right. They would be too late for her. The doorjamb was shut. She threw a glance down the hallway.

He was at the first door . . . the second.

She was turning it the wrong way! Yes! She was in - Yamcha's bedroom. She shut the door firmly behind her and locked it. Nothing. No window to jump out even. Just an old bed, a doorless closet, a full length mirror, a laundry chute, nothing to defend herself with. Bulma ran over to the bed and pushed it against the door. It was lightweight. It wouldn't hold back her grandmother.

"Fine. I'll wait to kill you, Bulma. I am sorry. It's not really your fault." His voice was right outside the door. Bulma backed away until she was against the back wall.

"Please don't hurt me." Bulma said quietly.

"I'm moved. I'll only keep you for a while then. Until you serve your purpose. You'd have to be hurt until you know your place though. I promise to be nice if you unlock the door, " he coaxed, jiggling the handle.

Bulma contemplated suicide. After all, she still had the knife, and miraculously, her purse. 'I can't give up, though! My Kami! The laundry chute! I hope there's a basket full of clothes at the bottom.' Bulma prayed, climbing into the chute feet first. 'But I can't bring the knife with me. What if I fall on it?'

"Last chance, Bulma."

"Go to HFIL!" Bulma screamed, hurling the knife at the door and herself down the laundry chute.

Thankfully, it wasn't a straight drop down from the third floor to the basement. There was only a slight angle, but Bulma was grateful for what she could get. She skinned her right elbow on the side of the chute on the way down, but she didn't cry out. If there was no clothes hamper, she didn't want to die with a scream on her lips.

There was a clothes hamper at the bottom, a huge three quarter filled clothes hamper. Her legs didn't absorb the shock too well. It was pain. Pain that started in her feet and sliced up through her ankles to her calves and stopped just above her knees. She fell against the hamper wall and it tilted over. Bulma and the clothes spilled out onto the concrete floor. It was almost pitch black. There was a light coming from behind a tall stack of boxes. It was a window to the street about five feet off the ground. Bulma grabbed around inside a box and came up with a baseball bat. Swinging back, she smashed the window, spraying glass everywhere.

"Bulma, why are you running?" she heard him yell. He was floating slowly down the chute.

'Great, he can fly.' Bulma thought as she dragged a table underneath the window and climbed up and out. She was on the sidewalk in the bright daylight. A hand grabbed her right ankle.

"I can't let you go, Bulma." He said.

Kicking frantically, Bulma managed a lucky shot; her heel caught him in the eye. His grip loosened and Bulma ran into the street, waving frantically as two squad cars zoomed around the corner, sirens flashing and screaming. They slammed on their breaks and skidded to a stop in front of her.

"Miss, what's wrong?" a policeman asked, stepping out of the driver's seat of the first car.

Bulma ran to him. "You've got to get me away! He's coming! He's coming!"

"Relax ma'am." He nodded to his partner who stepped out of the other side of the car. "Who's coming? Are you okay ma'am?"

"No! No! Look! There he is. We've got to leave!" Bulma cried, pointing to the apartment stairs.

The two policeman leveled their guns at the man. One yelled, "Put your hands over your head!"

"Get out of my way. This doesn't concern you." he ordered.

"Put your hands behind you head!"

The man shook his head and sent two energy balls flying at each cop. The balls caught them in the stomach. They flew up into the air. The balls exploded. So did the cops.

Bulma shrieked and dove into the driver's seat of the copless car. She pealed away, glancing back once in the rearview mirror as the other two cops stepped out of their car to face the man.

When Bulma reached the more populated part of town, she ditched the police car in an alley in favor of a motorized scooter. Miraculously, she still had her purse. She ducked into a hair salon and had the beautician speed dry her hair black. She forced herself to drive at a slow pace towards the Capsule house. Once, she saw him hovering above the street, but he'd looked right past her with her jet black hair. She didn't dare go back to the Capsule house after that. She drove to a Jmart and got a new outfit. She gave her old clothes to the Salvation Army. She didn't go home for five hours. At four, she cruised in, exhausted.


". . . Are you sure you're okay, honey? Maybe you'll need a psychiatrist now. I've heard these things can be traumatizing." Bulma's mother fussed. Bulma was lying in her bathtub, which was filled to the brim with bubbles. Only her neck and head were visible. "Oh, dear. I'm afraid this dye won't come out. You'll have to call the shop. Do you remember which salon it was?

"No, Mom. I was too terrified." Bulma answered, closing her eyes and shuddering.

"Oh! Of course dear. Sorry about that. I'll call around. If no one remembers you, I guess I'll have to make an appointment with your hair specialist. I do love that woman's work! I'm glad you made up with Nel too, dear. She's a great cousin for you. Your father and her are working on hacking into video cameras now. One of them might have seen your escape or Yamcha's kidnaping. And don't worry about Puar. I'll go talk to her now. Okay, hun?" Mrs. Brief asked, petting Bulma's forehead.

Bulma smiled. "Okay, Mom. I love you."

Mrs. Brief stood and smiled. "Oh, I love you too, dear. You're my baby." she blew Bulma a kiss and walked out the door into Bulma's room and then into the hallway.

Bulma leaned her head back and closed her eyes, glad for a moment of peace.

"Where'd he hurt you?" Vegeta demanded, barging in.

"Vegeta! Can't you see I'm taking a bath!" Bulma said startled.

"Yes. I'm not blind. Neliyah and your father told me what happened. Answer my question, Bulma."

"It's just cuts, Vegeta. Cuts and bruises."

"He drew blood."

"Indirectly, yes." Bulma confirmed, disturbed by the look of fury building in his eyes.

"Let me see." Vegeta ordered.

Bulma reluctantly held up her left arm. Vegeta reached out a finger and traced around the cut on her arm where the shard from the telephone had cut her.

"Anywhere else?" he asked, softly, thinking what an insult it was to have his woman hurt.

"My right elbow on the side of the chute and a few glass cuts from the window I broke."

"I'll kill him. Why can't I sense him? I'll be there next time, Bulma." Vegeta vowed.

"You better be. Will you stay around me for a while, Vegeta? He might find out where I live."

"Until he's dead." Vegeta answered grimly.

"Will you help find Yamcha then? He's my friend, and Puar needs him."

"I could care less about Puar, but I'll do it for you. Only you. Not for Yamcha."

"Fine." Bulma agreed. "Come here."

Vegeta leaned over to her and she wrapped her arms around him. He did the same. Their lips brushed gently.

Bulma smiled. "Look. I got you all wet again."

"I don't care." Vegeta said. "I can't get used to your black hair though. I like it better the other way."

"Me too." Bulma agreed, giving Vegeta a squeeze and sinking back down into the bath water. "You know, my relatives complained that I didn't go to the grocery store."

"Want me to teach them a lesson in respect?"

"No. I made them go already. Go into my bedroom and shut the bathroom door so I can get dressed, okay?"

Vegeta nodded and left. He could feel a deep anger stirring. This man had a lot of nerve messing with his woman. 'I hope he shows up. Then I can kill him slowly.' Vegeta thought, sitting down at Bulma's computer to wait. 'I was dumb to let her go when I knew something might be up. Kakarott would never forgive me if she'd died . . . I would never forgive me.

Why can't I sense this punk's energy? He must be masking it. If only that idiot ex of Bulma's would power up so I can sense him. I'll have to wait until he decides to raise his energy high enough for me to sense him. But since I can't sense the other guy, I can't leave Bulma here. She'll have to come with me . . . I suppose I could order one of her friends to come while I went to the idiot, but they all love a fight. They'd just follow me. I'm doing this on my own anyway. I don't need anyone getting in my way.'

Vegeta logged into his email account and scrolled down the messages in the inbox. 'Kami, how much longer can she take. Earth women and their appearance obsessions - utter stupidity. Another email from that Egyptologist, a dumb baka if I ever saw one. Shoot. I can hear Bulma coming to the door. She'll never let me live it down if she knows I got an email address.' he logged off and shut down the computer, swinging around to the face Bulma as she walked in from the bathroom.

"Vegeta, I've been thinking about something that man said that might be a clue to this whole mess." Bulma said thoughtfully, walking to her dresser.

"Hrmph." was Vegeta's only reply.

She fiddled around searching for a hair tie. "When he first came in, he talked about not liking Yamcha much. He said he'd kill Yamcha in front of me end then me in front of her. At the time, I thought he meant Puar. But that doesn't make any sense, since he let Puar get away. I wonder who she is and what she has to do with me?" Finding a hair tie, Bulma drew her black hair into a ponytail. "Yamcha's important to me, so I must be important to her."

Vegeta winced when Bulma mentioned Yamcha's importance to her. 'Why should I care?' he thought stubbornly.

"But Yamcha's more important to Puar than me, so Puar can't be the 'her' he was talking about. Could it be my mom?"

Vegeta snickered.

"You're not helping, Vegeta! He could be madly in love with her and go after Yamcha just to draw me in. Yeah! I'm always around my mom, so he couldn't get me here. She might have spotted him!"

"No one is out to get your mother. That's the stupidest thought you've ever had."

"I don't see you coming up with any brilliant theories! I bet you can't do better." Bulma accused, stalking over to her beanbag chair and plopping down. She glared at Vegeta, who rolled his eyes and began.

"The guy wants to fight me. He wanted to use you to draw me out. He couldn't get you directly because I'm around. So he went after the moron, Yamcha. Probably wanted to test his skills on the moron too. He sent Puar to ask for help, knowing I wouldn't waste my time on the idiot, but you'd come. The 'her' he was talking about is Kakarott's mate. He wants to fight him next. It's that simple." Vegeta leaned back in the computer chair and crossed his arms.

"You are so self-centered. This isn't about you! The world does not revolve around you, Vegeta." It was Bulma's turn to roll her eyes.

"Oh please. My theory is more likely than yours. He's not afraid your mother will see him, for Kami's sake!"

"Whatever, Vegeta. Get up so I can look in the directory and see if I recognize his face."

"That'll take six months. I thought you were a genius."

"Well what do you think oh Almighty Prince? Got any better ideas?" Bulma retorted.

"Of course. Make Neliyah design a program to narrow down the possibilities. You know he's not a woman, so why go through all of them?"

Bulma plopped up from the bean bag chair. "You're right! Good thinking, Vegeta!" she ran out of the room.

"Dying her hair must have affected her brain." Vegeta muttered leaving the room as well and heading to the kitchen.


"Where am I?" Yamcha asked dazedly. He was lying on his back, on what felt like cold, smooth concrete. He opened his eyes and tried to sit up. A shooting pain stabbed the back of his head, soon settling to a low throb. Touching his hand to the back of his head, his fingers grew sticky with blood. Yamcha groaned and sat up slowly, taking in his surroundings.

"Well this is just great. One clingy cot and a toilet and sink. I didn't think anything could get worse than my apartment." he muttered. "Kami, it's an old jail cell."

"Not exactly." a voice said from the direction of the bars, to Yamcha's right.

Yamcha jumped up and into a fighting stance. "You're the guy that attacked me! What'd you do with Puar?" he asked fiercely.

"I couldn't care less about Puar. I don't know where she is."

"I'm going to blast out of here and kill you if you don't tell me where she is!"

"Try it. You won't get out of there unless I let you out."

"Don't be so sure." Yamcha retorted, launching himself at the bus. He made contact with his shoulder, feeling the bars give slightly. Then it was as if they came to life, growing unbearably hot. They didn't budge. Yamcha bounced painfully back. The bars were in exactly the same condition as before.

"I told you." he young man said mildly as Yamcha once again assumed his fighting stance. "They're made from my energy, which is far superior to yours. Thanks ro an enchantment, no one can sense them, or anything trapped within them."

"Sounds fancy, but I don't believe you." Yamcha replied before diving at the bars again with no results but another bruise. "Why are you bothering with me? I'm not rich. I'm not the strongest." Yamcha questioned.

"I won't tell you the whole story. Let's just say I'm hoping to use you as bait to reel in a Miss Bulma Brief."

Yamcha's eyes narrowed.

"She's the means to an end to my problem."

"If you hurt her I'll-" Yamcha started.

"You'll what? You're in no position to stop me from anything. You're boring, Yamcha." the man turned to leave.

"You won't get past Vegeta." Yamcha yelled to his back.

The young man stopped walking. "He's not at the Capsule Corp all the time. I'll get past him easily. Now shut up." He left the room, flicking the light switch as he left, throwing Yamcha into total darkness.


A/N - Hoped you liked it. Just put up a little review there and I'll post a new chapter. Review. Review. And there'll be an update for you. :)