Chapter 6

Brought to you by Mikey Hansen, Vira626, Let's Random, Kakarot Son and Gue22


Mrs Briefs and her hoard of servants had outdone themselves as usual. The garden and its plentiful green inhabitants were outfitted elegantly around a large flowing fountain that stood out as the center piece of the evening's theme. The flow of the water gently whooshed and sparkled, creating an intimate and serene ambiance. Rustic cast-iron furniture was adorned with soft colorful cushions and drapes, and all around the vicinity lush trees boasted their chivalry by showing off the lanterns hanging off their branches.

Guests started arriving right on time, except for Son Goku who'd surprised Bulma by arriving way too early for her comfort levels. One by one the rich, the elegant and the successful began to enter with Bulma standing by her mother's side, cordially and dutifully greeting them. Knowing that her future husband was attending this gathering had her spirits so high, she was practically beaming at everyone. Well, all with the exception of her bodyguard. She couldn't quite trust him in this elegant setting. But glancing at him from the corner of her eye, she had to admit that he painted a rather dashing picture.

She frowned—almost dashing she corrected when she noted how fidgety he seemed to be in the formal clothes. He had complained tirelessly about having to wear the bowtie that Bulma had forced on him, but if he was going to pass himself off as a respectable guest, he had to look the part, right?

When the first wave of guests passed, Bulma pouted. Where was he? Where was Vegeta Sei? She'd dolled herself up extra tonight just to catch his eye and the bastard hadn't even showed up yet. Was he waiting for her gloss to fade? Insensitive idiot! She huffed, turning around just in time to spot Goku scratching the back of his head nervously at something a group of random, spoiled rich ladies were saying to him. She had greeted them earlier, but for the life of her she couldn't remember who or from where they were supposed to hail from. Oh, boy. She dashed to the rescue.

"Goku, there you are," she slipped in skillfully. "Oh, excuse me ladies, I need to borrow my friend here for a minute."

"Aww," they collectively whined. "Come find us later Goku!" they giggled after the two as they made their escape.

"Man!" Goku sighed in relief. "Girls are just..." he shook his head. "I don't know why Krillin and Master Roshi are so obsessed with them. They're so boring."

"Hey! Don't lump me in with that lot, I am anything but boring," the blue-haired woman protested.

"Heh, aww, come on Bulma, you know I didn't mean anything by it. Besides, it's not like you're a girl-girl you know. You're just Bulma," he shrugged.

"Hmm, well I don't mind you saying that only 'cause it's you Goku. Only one man's opinion of my feminine wiles matters tonight," she grinned.

"Your femine what?"

She rolled her eyes. "Never mind Goku. Come with me," she beckoned. "Let's do something."

"Err," he scratched his neck. "I kinda wanna stay here in the open so Chichi can find me easily," he said sheepishly.

"Well she's not here yet, so come!" she commanded, storming to a rather secluded part of the garden. "You see this spot?"

"Uh, yeah?"

"Grab that table over there and move it here where no one is likely to come."

"Uh, okay." Said Goku, dashing to said table, picking it up without effort and walking back to the "spot" where Bulma was waiting. "Why do you want it here where no one will see it?"

"This table will be reserved for you, that's why. If you have to eat, eat only what's laid out here, out of the public eye," she said with a glare. "I don't want you and your appetite ruining this cocktail party."

Goku pouted—he didn't look pleased at all with this arrangement.

"Look," smiled Bulma reassuringly. "You want to spend as much time with Chichi as you can, right? This will help you. If you guys are out there with the rest of the guests, people will be cutting in to your conversation all the time, and you don't want that. This spot is nice and cosy; the lighting is dim and romantic; trust me."

"I don't know Bulma, sounds more like you're trying to get me out of the way. I'm not that bad. I won't embarrass you or nothing."

"Goku! Don't be like that; this is for both our sakes, I promise! Look, I'll send some servants out to bring a tray of those croquembouches from Chichi's Delish. This way you can show her how much you love her cooking by eating every last one okay? That should make her happy."

"Are you sure?" he regarded her skeptically.

"Trust me, women love to be praised!" she beamed.


She was no-one, her presence blending into the darkness as quietly and as indistinctly as her existence. She moved from shadow to shadow as fluidly as a panther, using the cover of night as her own personal shadow blanket. Just like her birth, she leapt through the night unregistered, her attention focused on quietly trailing, stalking, and hunting her prey. This was her only significance, her only purpose for existing, and she did it with exemplary stealth, lulling all those around her into a false sense of solitude.

She checked her watch, frowning at the time. There appeared to be an unexpected variable not accounted for in her instructions. A woman had appeared from the shadows, joining him in what she recognised as a sexual embrace. According to her information, the man was supposed to be here alone, but a mission was a mission and a professional knew that improvisation was a big part of the job.

She measured the distance with her trained eye, picking up just enough momentum to make the leap. Like a ballerina she flew through the air, her supple limbs expertly twirling down the lamp post. She slid down to ground level, startling the embracing duo into an abrupt halt.

"Who the...where did you—" the man—her target—blabbered.

She moved swiftly, tapping the gaping woman at a spot behind her neck and in the same breath slitting the man's throat with the blade in her hand. All three fell unanimously, the woman in a quiet thud, the man in a guttural and bloody choke, and finally the blade in a noisy clank. She had no further interest in the first and the last anymore, her only interest was with the second. Two gloved fingers checked his pulse, a professional didn't make assumptions. Dispassionately, she nodded her head. He was dead. Good.

All that remained was the calling card, as per instructions.

Less than ten minutes later, Chichi leapt away from the scene, leaving no trace that she was ever there, except for the bloody mayhem she'd left behind to tell the tale.

Her thoughts had already dismissed the entire affair; it was no longer worthy of her consideration. She was thinking about other matters now, like how she was immensely displeased with her tardiness for her next task: She had a debt to repay to that boy, and yet, she was already late.


Goku shuffled his feet just south of the fountain. He was surrounded by a hoard of giggling girls – daughters of company presidents, daughters of revered scientists, and other such heiresses to vast fortunes across the globe. He was stuck in the middle of the world's top echelon at his party, but he could have been swimming in a bowl of tadpoles for all the interest it held for him. None of the girls chatting around him held any of his interest. His attention was fixed at the garden entrance, his eyes keeping track of all new arrivals. Where is she?

He felt uncomfortable in his clothes, uncomfortable with these girls, and definitely uncomfortable with how late it was getting. He couldn't even stand still on the spot for longer than a few seconds; he was fidgety and just...uncomfortable. She should be here by now. Maybe she changed her mind and is not coming. I hope she didn't, but girls change their minds a lot. He looked down at the perfectly kept lawn beneath his feet, completely oblivious to the question that was just directed at him.

"Is that true Goku?"

Maybe I did something wrong, but what? Or maybe she felt like she had to come because of what Bulma said.

"Hello, Goku?" one of the taller girls, the really skinny one, the one whose earrings looked heavy enough to develop some serious lobe muscles with, waved a hand past his face.

"Huh?" he looked up, blinking in confusion. "Uh...sorry, I didn't get that," he said sheepishly.

"Ika was just saying," she pointed at another girl, also skinny, but Goku had noticed that her "melons" were rather full—so full in fact, he was surprised they hadn't popped out of that dress, something he'd found himself surprised to have even noticed in the first place. "...that you're classmates with Bulma, but, like," the really skinny girl was saying, "...you guys are like, totally plato."

"Play...what? Potato?" he asked, confused.

They giggled, "You're so funny Goku!"

"Plato like platonic," the skinny girl with the full melons began. "Like, you guys are not...you know..." she nodded her head meaningfully.

"Uh, yeah..." he agreed, though he had no idea what he was agreeing with.

"See, I told you guys..." they began to converse amongst themselves again, leaving Goku to wander back to his previous thoughts. The teen boy put his hands in the pockets of his suit pants. It was now over fifty minutes since the party had started and still, Chichi was nowhere to be found. She's just a little late, I shouldn't worry. I wonder if I should call her. Hmm, he perked up at the idea. Yes that's it! I'll call her. Who knows she might have forgotten. A big smile spread across his face as he abruptly raced into the house. He didn't even hear the startled protests of the girls he'd left behind.

He grabbed the phone that rested on a small wooden table. His palms sweating as he punched in Chichi's home number. The ringing began, but luckily someone picked up real quick, a real grumpy someone by the sounds of it.

"Hello…."

"Hi!" he chirped, like someone calling at a decent hour. "Can I speak with Chichi?"

"No!" said Mr Grumpy. "She's gone out!" he snapped, dropping the phone before Goku could put in another word.

"Oh…" he hung up his end. I wonder where she is then? His head drooped. Hope she's alright….


Vegeta looked around the bustling garden; the party was well under way with loud sounds of clinking and clanking glasses amidst the alcohol induced laughter. Upbeat jazz completed the mood as his eyes searched the impressively decorated garden for Dr. Briefs. It was imperative to link the Sei name with world renowned innovators and successful businessmen as opposed to the current trash they were closely linked with in the underground. It was for this reason alone that he was here, attending this impersonal gathering of the top echelon members of society.

A well-dressed waiter stopped before him and without giving it much thought Vegeta picked up a glass, distractedly placing the cold glass against his lips. He cringed at the taste, not to his liking at all, and promptly stepped closer towards the fountain to find a table to dispose of the foul liquid. Making his way across the crowd, a familiar buzzing in his pocket halted his tracks. He pulled his phone out from his pocket as he completed the distance. Settling the glass on the table, he squinted at the print across his screen. It was a message from his father, blank except for an internet link.

What did the old fool want now? If he'd done something to soil the Sei name in the media he'd...His internal tirade stopped right there. The link opened up to a news headline of one of the major online-newspapers. He read through the article carefully, taking in the gruesome description of the murder dispassionately before he killed the page, and the browser.

So, it was already done.

He was about to slip the phone back to his pocket when out of nowhere a bumbling fool tripped on nothing, his wine spilling all over his shirt. Vegeta cursed, instinctively putting his phone aside next to his abandoned glass to check himself over.

"Oh man, I'm so sorry," said the idiot as he began his clumsy form on an apology from below unruly spiky hair which, Vegeta noted, was not all that different from his own. "Didn't see ya' there, oops!" he grinned at him, rubbing the back of his idiotic looking head.

Growling, even as the cold, liquid seeped deep into his shirt, Vegeta was about to lay into the fool when blue eyes, the likes of which he had never yet seen in his blue-eyed obsessed life, fell all over him with concern. Blue hair fell forward in a rich overabundance as a feminine hand examined the damage. At the contact, Vegeta felt the muscles in his stomach contract as she brought her face up, revealing her full face for the first time. He was extremely disgusted with what he saw, or more accurately—what he felt because of what he saw – the single most beautiful creature he'd ever had the misfortune to lay eyes on.

He scowled, he would not, would certainly not even think about it. He had sworn off beautiful blue-eyed bimbos just the other day.

"You poor thing," said the creature responsible for his newly acquired self-disgust. "Mr. Sei right? I'm Bulma Briefs," she introduced herself rapidly. "I simply must get that taken care of for you right away," she said, grabbing his hand impudently.

Bulma Briefs was it? This was the rumoured genius daughter of the very man he was itching to converse with. That, and only that, was the reason he was allowing himself to be dragged down corridor after corridor like this. His uncharacteristic compliance with her presumptuous manner in this matter had nothing to do with the sweet fragrance wafting down his nose from that shimmering head of blue. Oh no, it had nothing to do with those eyes that had grabbed his attention with such force that he'd almost felt compelled to add her name to his blue-eyed collection. Almost.

He was only allowing himself to be led by this female in order to secure a speedy meeting with Dr. Briefs – that is all.


She could hardly believe her luck, when they made it to her room of choice without interruption. Goku had done a splendid job, and finally she had the beautiful man where she wanted him. The door locked behind them with an audible click.

"Oh no," she feigned her distress.

"What?" dark eyes regarded her with annoyance.

"Didn't realize they'd put these auto-locks in this room as well," she frowned. "So overcautious, Daddy's men," she shook her head in faux disapproval rather convincingly.

"You mean we're locked in?" She could see a twitch forming at the corner of his brow. "Damn it girl! Look what you've gotten us into!"

"Don't be so dramatic, we'll just call for help and some-" she paused, her face breaking into alarm. "Oh, just great. I left my phone in my purse on the table, would you do the honors?" she quirked.

"With what?" he spat irritably. "Magic? You dragged me here in such a hurry, I didn't even have time to reach for my phone," he reminded her.

Damn straight, Bulma thought. Inwardly, she was screeching at the success of her plan. It's happening! Outwardly nonchalant though, she responded coolly "Since we're going to be here awhile, I guess we might as well sit?" doing just that.

Vegeta harrumphed at her suggestion, but after half a minute of scouting the room, with no obvious emergency exits, he begrudgingly sat down on one of the private lounge's couches.

Bulma cocked a confident brow, inwardly squealing like a schoolgirl. "Oh right, how could I forget? Your shirt. Give it here before that wine dries." She stood and walked over to him. "I'll quickly pour some soda on it, a sprinkle of salt too, if I can find some."

With an indifferent shrug, Vegeta took off his shirt, exposing his rippling figure underneath. That's right Mr Sei, take it all off! She leered down at him, trying to fight off her blush. Not wanting to get caught admiring that perfect body; however, she was quick to snatch up the shirt, walking over to a small marble countered bar in the corner. She made quick work with cupboard doors, soda cans and salt. She was Bulma Briefs after all, she'd played hostess many a time at these drab events; she knew very well how to take care of a little wine stain. Satisfied with her work, she swayed her hips invitingly as she draped his shirt over the chair to dry. She was calm and confident on the outside, all the while ecstatic on the inside. I did it! Vegeta Sei is right here in my clutches AND he's topless! Now she just had to master the discipline not to fan herself like a love-struck fool.

"Look here girl, there must be a way to call to your security without a mobile right? Don't these rooms have some kind of system? I want out of here as soon as my shirt dries."

The blue-haired vixen shrugged, "Not this one, sorry." she said regretfully. Heh...like she was dumb enough to lead him to a room with a working intercom. Who did he think he was dealing with? She resisted the urge to smile.

Obviously disapproving, the stout man snorted, "That is an obvious oversight on your security's part. Perhaps you need them replaced."

"You worry too much. We'll be found in no time at all. My bodyguards are very prudent you know; they'll notice my absence right away and break this door down if they have to." She moved back to the bar and began to pull out random bottles. "In the meantime, try to relax while your shirt dries. I'll fix us a drink." She bent down to the level of the mini-fridge, pulling the door open.

Vegeta scowled in response. He was silent for a moment, hopefully getting an eyeful of the blue-haired woman's shapely behind. "I don't want a bloody drink girl," he eventually said, "I want to get out of this room as soon as possible."

"Trust me, you'll like this drink," she winked, as she passed him a cocktail glass with a thick and fiery red liquid.

Eyeing the drink distrustfully, he made his thoughts known, "I have a very specialized taste, girl. It takes a very high level of quality to satisfy my palate."

Bulma raised an eyebrow before settling herself on the bar, the platform accentuating her bust. "Quite the prudish snob aren't we?" she asked playfully. When his eyebrow quirked in surprise at her insult, she grinned, "You know, I caught your feature on Forbas the other day. You must think rather highly of yourself," she smiled, amused at his reaction. "Oh, and believe me, if I cared enough to, I could more than satisfy any man's palate."

Vegeta merely sipped at his drink, refraining from responding to that line of conversation. Immediately, he stared at the drink in pleasant surprise, though his trademark scowl still occupied his face. "It will suffice. Not bad girl," he said without praise or scorn.

Bulma smiled slightly before scowling at his choice of words. "You know, I do have a name. It's Bulma."

"I will address you how I please…girl," Vegeta smirked.

Bulma, felt tingles run down her spine at the heated way he'd just said that word. It wouldn't do, it wouldn't do at all to get even more flustered than she already was. Surprising both Vegeta and herself, she snatched the drink from his hands, an immaturely stuck out tongue completing her motion. "Says the prick," the blue-haired woman shot back.

Completely shocked, Vegeta stared at her open-mouthed before he composed himself. "Insulting the guests? Such decorum Ms Briefs. My drink," he gestured towards her hand coolly.

Resolute, Bulma refused, her hands on her hips, "No. Though Ms Briefs is a step up from girl, it makes me feel like a haughty old prune. My name is Bulma, just Bulma."

Bull-headed as ever, Vegeta crossed his arms and remained silent.

Shrugging her shoulders, Bulma commented aloud, "I guess I need to pour this perfectly good Bloody Mary down the sink…"

Despite himself, Vegeta smirked. "Please, may I have my drink, Ms Bulma Briefs."

With a theatrical sigh, she handed back his drink, all the while shaking her head. "I guess that's the best the great Vegeta Sei has to offer."

"It is your full name is it not?" he smirked, before he busied himself once more with his spiced beverage.

"Hmm...I've never met an old man with such brutish manners before Mr Sei,"

Sputtering some of his drink, Vegeta completely shed his composed demeanour. Eyeing her suspiciously, he asked, "What do you mean old man?"

"Your age, 21."

"And how old are you, girl?" he demanded, feeling some dread build in his stomach. She thought a 21 year old to be something old? Just how old was she? He'd already entertained more than one fantasy involving his bed and that nigella blue hair spread across his sheets wide and open like the sea. He'd pegged her to be at most one year younger than his 21 years, even though he'd never touched a woman younger than 25 in his life.

"17," Bulma replied, "I'll be eighteen soon though."

The dark-haired man visibly flinched at that. Without making eye contact with her, he made his way to grab his shirt. He made quick work with his buttons, not caring that it was still wet. With deliberate precision, Vegeta kicked open the door, damaging both the hinges and locking mechanism.

Bulma let out a surprised squeak, her eyes wide with shock. She was so stunned that she didn't make another sound as Vegeta paused in the doorway and turned his head to quietly regard her. "Tell your father to bill the house of Sei," he said before adding "Bulma," as an after-thought.

However, whatever plans he had of leaving were short lived as a second later he was spun around by rough hands, an elbow suddenly pinned his neck against the wall. Vegeta immediately tried to struggle, quickly finding he wasn't making any progress. Pushing with more force, he managed to get the hand that was firmly gripping his fist to move back a few inches.

Without missing a beat, Vegeta lashed out with his feet, attempting to strike the person attacking him with a crippling blow to the shin before following up with a shove which would send his assailant onto the floor. As he swung out with his foot though, he was taken by surprise as the kick and the complementing shove were both resisted with ease before his assailant countered by using his elbow to push him towards the ground; leaving Vegeta as the the one on the floor tasting the lush carpet fibres of Capsule Corp.

"Bulma, are you okay? Did he hurt you?" the voice of the assailant rang out.

"Goku you idiot! Let him go right now," screeched Bulma, horrified at the sight of the two men. "Do I look like I'm hurt?" she huffed.

Although confused, Goku did as he was told. Vegeta immediately pushed hmself up, a livid look on his face. He was clearly not happy with being restrained and glared with deadly eyes at the blue-haired heiress' bodyguard.

"You-" he spat, preparing to let the man taste the best side of his fist for attacking him. However, before he could do anything, Bulma literally got in his way.

"Urgh! Goku!" she shoved him. "I can't believe this! Did you have to be so rough with him? Now poor Vegeta will be scared stiff!" she screeched.

"Aww, I'm sorry Bulma, didn't mean to scare him, when I saw a door go down I just...I just reacted," he bowed his head lamely. Though still mad, Bulma could understand Goku was only doing his job. Yet, his very actions could drive Vegeta Sei away and ruin everything for her.

With a glance to the other dark-haired man, Bulma could see his cold eyes fixated on the well-dressed bodyguard. "Pray we never meet again," he said with a deathly tone just before he stormed off.


"Trust me Bulma, he's dangerous," Goku said in an uncharacteristic voice as they rejoined the party. "Krillin was right, I never should have helped you."

"Are you kidding me? The guy was practically defenceless!" screeched Bulma as she stormed off to vent her frustration.

Goku didn't follow her, he knew her well enough by now – it was better to let her cool off before he had a talk with her. From just that altercation, Goku knew just how not defenceless this Vegeta person was. Simply put—the guy was strong. But that's not what had him worried, being strong in itself was fine, but his Ki...there was something about it that didn't sit well with him. He definitely didn't think it was a good idea for Bulma to marry a guy like that. He was thinking of maybe going back into the house to call Krillin; maybe he knew something about this guy when his breath suddenly caught in his throat. "Chichi," he whispered, his eyes caught in the net woven by her sudden appearance.

Man, that scuffle with that Vegeta guy must have taken it out more from him than he'd thought 'cause right now, he was feeling so thirsty that his throat hurt.

"I apologise for arriving so late," said Chichi, though her features did nothing to corroborate her apology. Goku kept staring at her, he couldn't stop. She looked different from the time on the bus and the time in the Delish, yet she still looked the same. She wasn't wearing flashy clothes like the rest of the girls who'd surrounded him earlier and her "melons" didn't look like they were about to pop either. She was wearing a simple black, figure-hugging dress with heels that brought her height closer to his. He supposed she had done something to her eyes and her cheeks because they looked bigger, fuller and more expressive than he'd ever seen them. She looked different in a way he couldn't explain, in a way that made him happy in a funny way, a way he'd never felt happy or excited by looking at a girl before. What was this hot, ticklish feeling floating around in his stomach?

"You are displeased by this dress?" she followed his eyes and looked down at herself, curiously inspecting the fabric like it was mysterious.

"No!" he waved his arms, "You look great Chi! I was just thinking you look different is all!" he explained, and for the life of him, he couldn't understand why this hot feeling was spreading from his stomach to his cheeks.

"Well I am here, what will you do with me now?"

Goku laughed at her awkward question. "Nothing! I just want to spend time with you, that's all."

She didn't speak, but Goku wouldn't be deterred that easily. He promptly grabbed her hand. "Come, first thing's first! Let's eat!" he declared, dragging her through the bustling crowd until he'd cleared it, arriving at the out-of-view spot that Bulma had banished him to.

Funny how having Chichi here made the atmosphere of the out of the way table feel all different. He didn't feel like he was being punished anymore, he felt glad to be alone with her. It was odd this feeling; why should he want to keep her to himself? He honestly had no answer for that, but...he was glad to have her all to himself anyway. Grinning, he followed her eyes to the spread of food on the table. "What do you think?"

He knew what he thought about it though. He just couldn't wait to dig in. Good thing he'd had to keep watch over the room Bulma'd decided to hide in, 'cause if he'd ventured off to this table to find it flush with food like this, he couldn't say whether he would have been able to wait or not. He had no idea what all this food was, it all looked fancy and colorful and stuff, but it sure looked tasty.

"I think," she paused, her eyes fixed on the food. "I think it looks delicious. May I?"

"Of course! No need to ask, just dig in!" he chirped happily as he did just that.

"I am allowed to use my hands?" she regarded him curiously, as if uncertain.

"You bet!" said Goku, picking up a decorated round ball of something closely resembling ground beef. He popped it into his mouth, breaking into a grin.

Chichi began took her time before she settled on something. She picked it up, carefully examining it first before she too popped it into her mouth. Unlike Goku though, she closed her eyes as she chewed on it leisurely, making appreciative sounds that stopped Goku in his tracks.

She licked at a crumb at the corner of her mouth and picked something else, treating it to the same leisurely chewing, savoring the taste nice and slow before she swallowed.

She worked her way to the middle of the table, then the top end before she finally walked all the way round so she could be within easy access of the bottom end. Each time she picked at something, each time she popped it into her mouth, sending her tongued to the corner, or bottom or top of her mouth to clean off the crumbs, Goku found himself filled with an insane urge to beat her to it. Alarm bells were ringing in his head. Did he really want to place his tongue on a girl's mouth? He'd seen it done a million times in magazines, billboards, movies, couples in the street, and in cafe's, not to mention the girls always hanging on his friend Yamcha's arm. He had seen it everywhere really, especially since they'd moved from Kame Island to settle in the city. But for the life of him, he'd never even contemplated doing it once. That is...until now.

"You are not eating Goku, is something wrong?" She waited until she had stopped chewing before she spoke.

"Uh, no. I was just..." what could he say? He didn't even understand what he had been doing himself. He had sworn that he only wanted to be friends with Chichi, he only wanted to see a smile break across that face, that's what he'd told Krillin and that's what he'd thought he'd wanted too. Yet...if he actually wanted to lick at the corners of her mouth, to taste the food from her mouth, or...if he was being completely honest, taste her period - mouth or anywhere else he was allowed, then maybe...

He gulped. Maybe he was finally becoming like his master, and if that was the case, then maybe it was time to take his master's advice?

"Remember Goku, girls like guys who aren't afraid of getting a bit physical," The crazed old man, Goku's faux grandpa, started. He was winking oddly with his brows. "The way to go when trying to talk to a girl is… well a little squeeze on her behind, yeah that should do just nicely! Eheheeee," Roshi finished with a grin planted solidly on his face, as fantasies better untold entered his mind.

In response, Goku scratched his head and returned his masters stare with one big question mark. "But Master Roshi, girls always slap you afterwards?" He tried desperately to figure out if this was just another one of the old guy's games.

"And that, my dear student is what we call positive feedback!" the old man finished, quickly withdrawing before any more questions could be asked.

Well, maybe not. No matter what Master Roshi had to say, a slap from Chichi was definitely not something he was after. He was after a smile, a laugh and apparently a taste as well. Hmm, he had no experience with this kind of thing, but he did have his instincts, and they'd always come through for him in the end, so forget Master Roshi's advice. He'd go about this the only way he knew how.

He'd simply make it into a challenge - if he succeeded in his original goal - if he made her laugh, even just a little, then he'd definitely taste this food from her mouth.


That's the chapter guys, do let the team know your thoughts and comments.

Dear TDS Readers: Considering that the 2nd year anniversary of our group is nearing, we thought it best to do something to celebrate putting up with each other for 730 days.

As such we came to the conclusion that we wanted to do something for you guys who have read and reviewed our stories. On May 8th and 9th, several of our authors (such as Razamataz22 and Gue22) will be participating in a Questions and Answers section on our forums.

This is your chance to get to know the writers of TDS a little better and we might even be able to give you some advice. We look forward to seeing what it is you wish to hear from us and will appreciate any feedback.

Much obliged,

Team Dragon Star