The Disclaimer: blah blah blah...DRAGONBALL Z...yadda yadda yadda...copyright of all characters...blah blah blah...the great, all-powerful Akira Toriyama...yadda yadda yadda...C'mon an get me ya lousy Feds!...HAH!

"IhateyouIhateyouIHATEYOU!!" Bra shrieked.

Turning down the stereo, Vegeta scowled at her and said, "You can endear yourself to me with all the sweet talking you want. I told you lights out for the last time!"

"It's only 9:30-", she pouted.

"You're only thirteen!"

"All of the parents of my friends let them stay up until eleven or even later!"

"Fine, go live with those losers. Least then I'd get some goddamned piece and quiet," he said and slammed the door after he left.

"!!I HATE YOU!!"

Vegeta had gotten halfway down the hall when the stereo was turned back on to full blast. He froze in place, reminded himself that infanticide was wrong and decided to leave her alone for another half hour before he REALLY came down hard on her. That stereo was going to take a swan dive off of the balcony this time for sure and if the little brat didn't stop yelling at him, she was going to go sailing right on after it.

He grabbed a beer from the fridge and settled down in front of the television where 'The Weakest Link' was on. He didn't like the show but the remote was hiding somewhere and he was too lazy to turn the channels manually. Bulma was away to some dykey Feminist Convention where she was the guest speaker. She wouldn't be back for another day and Vegeta was mentally exhausted from playing househusband. He stretched himself out on the couch and watched Anne Robinson abuse the contestants.

"-What was it you said that you did as your occupation, Teddy?"

"Uhhh, I'm a Supervisor at a Tire company."

"Obviously, inhaling all of that rubber has caused some brain damage. You have failed to answer any of the questions in this round correctly. Therefore, you ARE the Weakest Link. Goodbye."

"I'd like to slam a link into you and it wouldn't be weak, you ball-busting bitch," Vegeta muttered. He settled into a moody doze and when he came awake again, it was almost eleven o'clock. His favorite show 'The Sopranos' was about to come on and he still had to get Bra settled in-

-and the stereo was still cranked up and blasting away.

"Alright!" he screamed and jumped from the couch. He stormed to Bra's bedroom, found that door was locked and pounded on it.

"Open up this goddamned door RIGHT NOW! I'm not screwing around- I mean it, Bra! You-ohfuckthisbullshit..." He stepped back and kicked his foot out squarely in the center of the door, breaking it off the hinges and having it fly halfway across the room. He stalked inside and immediately saw that the room was empty, the window wide open. As he blinked at the fluttering curtains in disbelief, the pulsing vein on his temple damn near took flight he was so livid. When he left, he brought his fist down onto the luckless stereo so hard that it broke the shelve it was sitting on in two.

Sometime later, at South City College, Trunks was thrusting away at some petite little coed he had just met at the local bar. He wasn't quite sure what her name was, Marilyn...Mary Ann, some shit like that but she was drunk and easy and that was all it took for him to impress her with his smart mouth and quick wit and entice her back to his dorm room. He was his father's son, in THAT respect at least.

She buried her fingers in his thick purple hair and pulled hard enough to make him lose his rhythm.

"Ouch! Watch it!"

"Ohhhhh, don't stop now, baby," she was panting.

"Those damn fingernails HURT!"

"Come on, come on, I'm almost there-"

"Let go of my hair!"

"Whooooaahhh, that's it! That's IT-"

"I told you-"

"Trunks!" Vegeta turned on the lamp beside the bed from where he had been standing, "Would you quit your pissing and moaning long enough to finish the bloody JOB?"

The girl let loose a shriek that could have broken glass and bucked Trunks off of the bed where he fell to the floor in a tangle of sheets. Seeing the leather-wearing, spiky haired man looming over her, the girl was too terrified to even cover herself in her fear. Vegeta took advantage of the moment to give her the once-over and then threw her clothes at her. It wasn't done out of pity; the girl just wasn't much to look at. "Get out," he told her.

"Aw Jeez, dad! What the hell-" Trunks began mourning the loss of his once-impressive erection. He just discovered that having great sex interrupted by your father is what is known as a 'show-stopper'.

"THAT'S your father?" the girl gasped as she held her clothes to her non-existent breasts.

"The door or the window. Your choice," Vegeta snarled.

The girl left. The two could hear her wailing out in the hall as she got dressed. Trunks sat on the bed and put his face in his hands. "Oh, man, I can't believe you just did that! Crap!"

"Your mother and I aren't paying a 50,000 zeni tuition to have you become the stud of the campus. Don't you have midterms to study for?"

"I'm taking a break."

"Right." All Vegeta could see on the nearby desk was a pile of books that looked as new and untouched as the day they were bought and a well used water-bong.

"Dad, why are you here? To check up on me? 'Cause if it's THAT you sure picked one helluva night -"

"Bra's run away. I want to know where she is," Vegeta told him.

Trunks frowned, looking puzzled. "Why do you think I know?"

"Because whenever your mother's out of town the both of you team up and try to find some way of screwing me over, THAT'S why. You were talking on the phone to her today. Where'd she go?"

When he hesitated, Vegeta said in a low voice. "You can kiss that sweet Trust Fund goodbye if you don't -"

"-She went to a Rave," Trunks cut in quickly.

"What the hell is THAT?!"

"It's like a big dance for teens only it's held in an abandoned warehouse or something like that. The VeeJays always hold it someplace different so the cops don't raid it. Bra found out where one was being held from a friend at school. She figured you would have let her go 'study' at her friend's house and they were going to slip away for an hour or so and come right back before anybody would know. Obviously, that didn't happen."

"Obviously. Did she tell you where it was at?"

Trunks saw that look in his father's dark eyes he most definitely did not like to see. It was a glare that promised murder, mayhem and one hell of a long grounding. "Yeah, but I'll only tell you if you let me come along."

"Zip up those blue balls then and let's go," Vegeta said impatiently while his son struggled to do just that.

Sharp Saiyan hearing quickly picked up the heavy 'thud-thud' beat from the air as the two flew over the city in the direction that Bra had told her brother where the rave was being held. It was a paint-peeling, boarded-up deathtrap of an abandoned garage in a poorer section of the city then Vegeta would have liked. He could actually feel the heavy bass beat assault his body and they weren't even inside the damn building yet.

"Dad, no fireworks, okay?" Trunks pleaded as Vegeta walked up to the reinforced metal door. "No Final Flash, no Big Bang and for God's sake, no Gallic Gun! Let's just go in, get Bra and get back out without killing anybody, okay?"

"No promises," Vegeta said and brought his fist down on the door.

A metal slot opened up and a pair of beady eyes peered out and finally lowered their gaze to where Vegeta was standing. "What's the password?"

"The password will be 'Death' if you don't open this goddamn door!" Vegeta snapped. Behind him, Trunks was shielding his eyes and shaking his head. He knew what was coming.

"Fuck you, twerp," the man said and was in the process of sliding the slot back closed when Vegeta kicked in the door. It slammed up against the nearby wall, pinning the man who had been standing behind it before both fell to the ground in a heap.

Casually stepping over the unconscious man, Vegeta shot a clear look of warning to several others who had come running at the intrusion. They took one look at the scene and let him pass by without quarrel.

"Uhh, sorry about the door," Trunks muttered as passed by, rushing to catch up to his father. Vegeta had stopped dead in his tracks when he reached the entrance to the rave and looked like a man who had finally faced his greatest nightmare.

The main garage bay area had been originally build to both store and service 18-wheelers and tractor trailers and was deceptively huge. At the moment, there were close to four hundred teens jammed in together and gyrating to music that was being blasted from at least eight, ten-foot high speakers strategically placed around the immense make shift dance floor. The only lights in the place were from some cheap-ass lasers playing across the ceiling and glow-sticks the kids were carrying. The music was actually distorted it was turned up so high and the concrete floor was vibrating with each pulsing beat.

I'm going to go absolutely bugshit if I walk in there, Vegeta thought to himself. He didn't see Bra within arm's length and realized he was going to have to go in.

Trunks initial sense of dread intensified. "Dad, stay here. I'll take a look for Bra and let you know if I find her."

It was tempting. Vegeta was about to give in when a tall, lanky jock wearing a football jersey came up to him waving a hundred dollar bill under his nose.

"You're Little Ernie, ain'tcha? Jacko and the boys told me to hit you up for twenty tabs," the jock said.

Vegeta immediately looked to Trunks who translated; "He's trying to buy some drugs off you."

Shaking his head, Vegeta snatched the hundred and pushed the jock away as he started to enter the dance area.

"That's my money -" the jock grabbed him by the arm and Vegeta punched him in the gut so hard, the teen came out of his boots.

Pocketing the money, the Saiyan told him, "That's my fee for pissing me off," and entered the garage while Trunks trailed along like a man in a bad dream. He was keeping a running tab on his father's body count; two battered men in less then two minutes. It wasn't looking good.

"We'll have a better chance of finding her if we split up -"

"WHAT??" Trunks yelled above the racket.



Vegeta threw his arms up in futility and then whirled Trunks around and gave him a rough push in one direction while he went off in another. Just trying to cross the garage was almost life threatening. Vegeta strayed too close to a mosh pit and before he knew it, he was dragged in and got an elbow to this right eye before he was thrown back out. He stumbled into a circle of groping lesbians and barely managed to protect his balls from their assault before he finally made it across
the garage floor. He immediately put his back against the wall and raised his fists, anticipating another attack but it appeared he was out of danger. He rubbed his eye with a grimace and could feel the rage that was a precursor to SSJ start to swamp him. He smothered the feeling with difficulty. He'd like nothing better than to turn this building and it's batch of halfwits into one smoldering crater but Bra was in here somewhere. Bulma had forgiven him a great many slip-ups in the past but he was pretty sure there was no way to make up for incinerating their second born child.

He decided to fly up into the cobweb-shrouded rafters of the garage for a better arial view of the dance floor. One of the pulsating lasers caught him a glancing flash and, blinded, he flew face-first into one of the metal support pillars, disturbing a family of terrified pigeons. They scattered in a flurry of feathers and birdshit and Vegeta dropped out of the air to get away from the winged vermin and fell into one of the pit areas where the garage had performed lube jobs. He collided with a rusty barrel half-full of old congealed oil and ended up spilling the contents all over himself. On ground level, the nearby dancers heard a sudden barrage of outraged screaming and ignored it figuring it was just the music.

Accustomed to such gatherings, Trunks easily wove his way around the tightly packed, gyrating bodies as he searched for his sister. Every so often, he would shout out a description of Bra to some girls who looked about her age, asking if they'd seen her. No one was very cooperative.

He was about to retreat to the sidelines to rethink his strategy when a hand caught his arm and pulled him into a circle where four or five girls were dancing together. It took a moment for his stunned mind to register the fact that they were all topless, their breasts coated with glow-in-the-dark paint.

"Hey, cutie, wanna dance?!" One yelled in his ear before adding a playful lick. The others were pressing themselves in closer to him.

*shwing* Trunks erection was back. "Don't mind if I do," he said and pulled off his shirt to join in the fun.

Neither Trunks nor Vegeta could find Bra in the dance area because she wasn't even near it. She and her friend had met up with several other older boys from school and they were hanging out in one of the old offices well away from the riotous gathering, getting smashed on a bottle of peach schnapps.

In one corner, Bra took a swig from the bottle and passed it to one of the boys who was leering over her, getting ready to make his move.

"My dad..." She gagged on the sweet liquor and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand before she tried again, "My dad, he jus' doesn't unnershand, y'know?"

"Yeah, I know," the boy said, touching the strap on her shoulder, his fingers moving down...

"Jus' because he didn't have, y'know, any kind of a childhood don't give him the-the right to deprive me of mine. It isn't fair."

"No, it sure isn't. Have another drink, you'll feel better," he said offering her the bottle.

She took a long draught and broke off coughing. "Man, he's gonna kill me if I get caught."

The boy had managed to get his hand down her top and discovered that despite her name, she wasn't wearing one. Oh, happy day. "I wouldn't worry about it."

"Well, I would! That's what he does best! Kill people!"

"Say what?!"

Bra looked up at him, trying to focus. "Well, it's what he DID. Not so much nowadays. I guess he's kinda in, like, retirement now though being a Saiyan he don't age like normal people. I mean, he's gonna be hitting sixty in a month or two but he only looks thirty. Cool, huh? Did I tell you he was a Prince on his homeworld?"

The boy took the bottle away from her and gave it to one of his buddies. "No more for you, you're freaking!" he said and kissed her, tasting alcohol and absolutely no resistance. Bra was remarkably calm while he groped her, nearly half asleep from the booze. The older teenager had her top up around her neck when she suddenly bubbled out: "Oh! Hiya, daddy!"

Everybody in the office stopped what they were doing at the sight of what was standing in the doorway. It was as if they were witnessing an escapee from the bowels of Hell.

His entire body shaking with rage, Vegeta absorbed the scene of his daughters' nudity, too upset to even utter one of his trademark grunts. His hair was a dripping, congealed mess of oil, feathers and pigeon shit. His filthy clothes were a complete write-off and his bruised face was streaked with grease where only one eye glared out. The other was swollen shut.

"Get. Off. Of. Her. NOW!" He managed to rasp out.

"Oh -SHIT!" the boy said, an instant before he was propelled through the boarded-up window.

Crossing the room to finish the job, Vegeta looked out of the hole he had just made and saw the first police cruiser pulling up to the building with it's flashers on. It was quickly joined by several others.

"Aw no, it's a RAID!" one of the teens hollered, bolting for the exit. In a matter of seconds, he was alone in the office with his daughter who was squinting down at her chest in confusion, wondering where the hell her top was. She realized it was around her neck and drunkenly pulled it down, offering him one of her dazzling smiles. "Everything's okay, daddy."

"In another ten minutes you would have been deflowered in this fucking rattrap. I've half a mind to just leave you here!" He glared out of the window again where the policemen were getting out of their cars and organizing together before they raided the building. He didn't like cops and had no intentions of getting caught. Trunks could fend for himself.

"I'm sorry, daddy!" Bra said as the situation began to dawn on her. She burst into noisy sobbing. It was probably the only thing that saved her from a night in jail until her mother came home. Vegeta was a sucker for the sight of his daughter's tears. It was about the only weakness he had.

Grumbling, he knelt down and picked her gently up. She immediately grimaced at the smell and tried to push him away. "Daddy, you really stink -"

"You're currently number one on my shitlist. I'd suggest you shut your hole right now," he snapped at her and she wisely kept her comments to herself as they left the office.

As word began to spread of the police presence, Vegeta was eyeing the ceiling for a weak point he could burst through. Teens of all ages were running around starting to panic when they discovered that all of the exits were boarded up. The Saiyan would never know if he were being charitable or impatient when he raised his left hand, palm up and blew out an entire section of the wall as a way of escape. He joined the excited rush outside just as the cops were rounding both corners. Out of the corner of his eye he caught a glimpse of purple hair. "!!TRUNKS!!"

Peering over the heads of people rushing helter skelter, Trunks looked in his direction and then away before doing a horrified, but comical, double take.

"What the hell happened to you?!" he asked when he caught up to his father and Bra. She was holding her nose and gagging at her fathers over-whelming stench and even Trunks had to step back a few feet, grimacing.

"I could ask the same thing," Vegeta muttered, eyeing his son shrewdly. Trunks had lost his shirt in the rush and the zipper to his jeans was at half-mast. There were smears of lipstick around his mouth and a hickey on his right pec.

"Hey, you two! Hold it right there!" a policeman yelled at them.

Vegeta snapped his head around and the next instant, he was airborne. Adding a light-hearted wave to the dumbstruck cop, Trunks took to the sky in quick pursuit. They landed on the roof of a building a block away and watched as the police rounded up as many teenagers as they could and shove them into the back of a paddy wagon.

"Man, if I couldn't fly, I'd be the purple-haired bitch of some holding cell bull tonight," Trunks remarked lightly.

Holding Bra against his chest, Vegeta only grumbled deep in his throat as he looked down at her. She was close to passing out.

"Don't go too hard on her. She made a stupid mistake, that's all," Trunks said to him. "I mean, look at the shit I got into when I was a kid."

Rolling his one good eye, Vegeta said, "Christ. If I have to go through all that bullshit with HER, I'll drop her off at a convent."

Wounded, Trunks said, "I wasn't THAT bad -"

"You were -" Vegeta had turned on him to begin one of his tirades and realized he was just too emotionally spent to bother. With a sigh he finished the sentence with; "-exactly the same little prick that I was at your age, minus the body-count. I guess I shouldn't be surprised."

Trunks blinked, as ever not entirely sure if he had been the recipient of a compliment or an insult from his gruff father. There was an awkward period of silence between them before the younger man stepped back and announced, "I guess the excitement is over for the night. I'm going to head back to my dorm. I've...uh, still got exams to study for."

"You do that. We're going to rush home before something ELSE happens," Vegeta grumbled unhappily. He was thinking about the clean-up job ahead of him before Bulma came home tomorrow. There wasn't enough shampoo in the world that could get this grease out of his thick alien mane. And how the hell was he going to explain his face...?!

Starting to fly off, Trunks turned back to him and said, "What could possibly go wrong now?"

As if on cue, Bra announced, "Daddy, I'm gonna be sick -mugghh!" and vomited stale liquor all over the front of Vegeta's shirt.

Choosing the better part of valor, Trunks sped away, trying to contain his laughter and not succeeding. In the background he could hear his outraged father yelling after him;

"If the next bitch you screw tells you she's on the pill - DON'T YOU FUCKING BELIEVE IT!!"

~The End