Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Any way the wind blows ❯ And so we start ( Prologue )

"-AAAAAAAAATTTTTTTTSSSSSSSS right folks… Catharine is going on an all expenses paid trip to the wonderful Island of Hawaii. You too have the chance to win these fabulous prizes here at ................" *Bang*

A neatly manicured hand shot out from under the blankets, hitting the alarm clock with its detailed Capsule Corp logo right in its center; thereby shutting up the annoying voice of one of the most popular DJ's in town. Bright numbers on the display told the world it was 1:30 in the afternoon.

The cocoon of blankets slowly folded open to reveal a figure wearing "Love me, Teddy Bear pyjamas. Bulma rolled over. She opened her eyes just a bit only to close them again when she realised she would have to get out of bed once she was awake. Waking up was never nice, but having to wake up after one of the Capsule Corps high-profile parties, that could and did last all night, was sheer HFIL.

Bulma groaned as last night's wine seemed to have left her a mouth feeling like she had been licking three-week-old soggy road-kill. She never had liked wine, but at a party it was customary to make a toast to success regularly so as to not hex a new deal.

She tried to swallow the awful taste away, not really succeeding. "Live and learn, Bulma Briefs," she mumbled to herself. "And then learn to say `no' to wine refills at parties."

Hearing a sliding sound, she turned around, just managing to see the light blue and beautifully crafted door of her rooms sliding open

 "Rise and shine, dear! It's a beautiful morning, and I am sure you'll feel much better once you have taken a shower!" Only one person could sound so cheery after having attended a Capsule Corp party, her mother.

Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she could see her mother standing in the doorway, eyes closed in delight and a big smile on her face. Her mother wrinkled her nose a bit telling Bulma the shower wasn't just for waking up.

After her depressingly cheerful comment Bulma's mother vanished again mere seconds before the pillow Bulma had felt compelled to throw hit the door as it slid back into place. The pillow fell to the ground with a very dull sound. Bulma normally compared it to the sound a duck made when dropped from a very high, windy place, hitting the ground headfirst. Her pillow being about ninety percent feathers, this would probably be an accurate description, though she had never taken the time to find out if that was the case.

Her lips curled up in derision toward herself. Throwing pillows at her mother was something she used to do when she was a teenager and her mother woke her for school in the morning. It felt nice to have those little rituals in a family normally so occupied with work.

Bulma sighed as her own smell finally drove her out of her huge and luxurious bed and into the shower. She normally sang in the showers, but today she skipped it, trying to stay awake under the soothing beams of water coming out of the showerhead. Stepping out feeling less-than-fully awake because of the pleasant temperature of the shower, she began brushing her teeth with one hand and combing her hair with the other simultaneously, not succeeding in bringing one strand of hair down.

Slowly waking up, she realised she was getting toothpaste all over her pj's. Sighing and stifling a yawn, she walked out of the bathroom to her built-in closet, pressing the little button that would open it. Putting on a very loose t-shirt that bore the name of a rock band whose singer she had once dated and some dark-blue sweatpants, she went downstairs to get something into her stomach before it decided to empty out last night's menu. Swaying down the stairs, she silently agreed with all the anti-alcohol commercials she had seen in her life. Her head was throbbing to the tune of a gigantic headache....

As she continued downstairs, she began mumbling to herself, "Bad wine...bad Bulma...bad wine..."

Downstairs, the robots had fixed her something light to eat. Bulma mentally patted herself on the back for remembering to instruct them to do so the night before. Sometimes it definitely paid off to be a genius multi-millionaire. Last night wasn't one of those times however.

Her father had been trying to find some investors for a new gimmick he and she had been working on, and as is custom in such matters he was forced to host a massive party after the negotiations worked out.

The party had been awesome! And closing her eyes she appeared to remember more than she thought she would have with all that wine.…

High-heeled open, black sandals with leather straps reaching up to her calves made her feet look very appetising, and her favorite pair of silk stockings did the same for her leg. Skin-tight black spandex conformed to every voluptuous curve, showing clearly that she wasn't wearing much underneath. The dress enclosed her breasts a little bit tighter then she would have liked, lifting them up and making them look very perky.

A light amount of makeup adorned her face, except for the mascara, which was heavy and black, framing her eyes and drawing attention to those aquamarine pools of pleasure every men seemed to enjoy watching so much. Her hairdo completed the perfect picture: heavy, full, blue curls framed her face and danced on her back with every step she took. Because the curls went down to her waist men had trouble missing the blue beauty.

She smiled, the mirror telling her she succeeded in making everyone see what she wanted them to see. Little would they know she loved walking around in army boots, with oversized trousers and a baggy t-shirt on.… She even had her super-short hair in a bob, completing the picture of not-so-desirable babe by the less intelligent men.

For tonight hair extensions, make up, and the perfect dress would make her every man's dream. Upholding her image of genius/playmate the society magazines gave her. Image was important, even in science, when you wanted people to invest in you. Investors wanted more than result and profit, they wanted glamour!

**

"You can think whatever you want but if this party is any indication of the success we are going to get with the new invention, we are made for life! Just look at the crowd! This is THE place to be.… My friend, we have hit the mother-load!" With a little smile the dark-haired man turned his head to follow a brunette out of the room, looking appreciatively at her swaying hips.

"Not only that, but the waitresses look very, very nice." Vegeta smirked when the waitress looked back to give him a suggestive wink. He looked good and he knew it. He had enough money to wear designer clothes and it was one of the few things he really indulged himself in.

He was wearing a black Italian, handmade suit, which had cost him a pretty penny but fit like a glove. On the right body it showed just how good someone could look in a suit. And since he had noticed he liked looking good he made sure he kept fit and healthy and especcially for the lady's he flossed regularly. He had even converted his once abhorred spiky hair into his personal trademark. People never overlooked him in a crowded room.

He was one of the two most eligible bachelors walking around that night, the other one a close friend and standing beside him in just such an outfit.

 His friend's hair had been compared to fountain spray, weeds, and on one strange occasion the leaves of a strawberry. None of the descriptions came close, but they all came close enough. His hair did seem to spout out of his head, and it did look as wild as weed, and it did point in all directions, but it was also pitch black. It seemed to suit him though and it gave his otherwise perfect appearance an innocent and boyish touch.

Goku followed Vegeta's gaze but didn't seem impressed, and why should he be? He may have been younger than Vegeta, but he sure as HFIL lived a lot better. He was born into a family where there was always enough money to live on. He had found out early that money made him very alluring to women.

Being a wild teen he had spent several thousands on girlfriends that he never dated more than a week. He always made sure he gave them nice little presents and assumed girls getting involved with him knew what they were going to get. By giving them presents he felt he was keeping his part of the bargain.

It had been a blast and he had loved every second of his life in the open range playing a game he was master in.... Then Vegeta showed up.

Goku had been coaxed into pulling all his money together and starting a business with the other man. He had put a lot of hours and money into the company, whose primary goal was to fund new devellopments in science for the substantial amount of profit it would fetch in the end. Thankfully calmer times were coming. Capsule Corps new invention would be able to produce huge amounts of antimatter needed for space exploration. Unfortunatly the natural universe produced no more then a teaspoon per planet. With this new invention Capsule Corp was a God's Gift and would have buyers around the globe and THAT made sure Vegeta and Goku would never have to go looking for money again.

He had learned the value of the money he had been born into and began feeling unsatisfied by relationships with woman only after the money he worked hard to earn. He never regretted playing their games, but now it was time for a new game; one with higher stakes and more profit in the end. He was looking for marriage material.

**

It took a couple of seconds, but once she got the hang of it, her sandals made her feel as if she was walking on a cloud. She gave the mirror a last glance, winking at her own image staring back at her. Walking over to her door, she remembered she had almost forgotten something.

Smiling, she turned around and walked back to her table, grabbing a bottle of her famous perfume. The manufacture had given her an extra-large bottle after she had asked the head of the company in person for one at pervious party.

Closing her eyes, she sprayed some of the sweet-smelling substance over her hair and body. Setting the bottle back down again, she walked to the door and flicked out the light. Walking down the hallway she could hear the door zooming back into place again in between the sounds her high heels made.Â

Entering a party had always been something she hated. The catch was, you had to grasp all the attention at that one perfect second you where standing at the top of the stairs leading to the hall where the festivities were held and at the same time had to radiate some kind of aura of desirability, intelligence, and innocence all at once. On top of that, you weren't allowed to look like you were drawing attention to yourself.

Fortunately, she had become somewhat of a professional over the years. Standing before the doors leading to the staircase, she took a deep breath and retouched her curls, reminding herself what she looked like...a princess.

The doors opened and she looked down at the crowd looking up at her.… All of them locked in a game they all knew but too well.

**

The room was getting a little crowded and Vegeta was feeling less and less comfortable with every passing second. This was an atmosphere he had gotten to know quite well over the years. Rich people drinking too much and cutting loose.

He smirked. There was an unspoken rule that word of what happened at parties such as this never left the house. Perhaps that was why most of the influential people could only be themselves at inebriated parties.

He was about to move to somewhere less crowded, perhaps even get enough space to loosen his tie a bit. His mouth pulled down as he put his finger in between his collar and neck. It might look stunning, but he'd much rather wear a normal t-shirt.

Just as he was getting up from the only slightly comfortable sofa he and Goku had been seated on, a wave of `aww's went through the gathered crowd. His lips curled, " Not another silly bint making her appearance, is it Goku? I thought we ran out an hour ago!" Not getting any response, he looked at his friend, who seemed to be staring blankly at the staircase. Following the direction of his friend's gawk, Vegeta looked up as well only to see a blue-haired goddess standing at the top of the stairs.

His mouth fell open as he mumbled as much to Goku as to himself, "I always did have a thing for spandex."

Goku's eye twitched as he heard Vegeta speak. It was strangely upsetting hearing his friend speak right through the wonderful dream he was having about the blue-haired angel. Not daring to shut his eyes, they began to tear but he didn't care. She could fly away if he blinked. Through his cloud-filled brain Vegeta's words slowly began filtering through.…

With an abrupt movement, he tore his eyes from the beautiful angel to stab them at Vegeta. "She's mine!"

I am gonna begin writing the next chapter which will probably contain a little meeting between Goku/Bulma and Bulma/Vegeta. I was thinking about adding a bit of spice between Vegeta and Goku, something along the lines of > You cant have this one Goku, you had the one in Venice... or something. I also think Bulma got a date with one or both of them, got any idea's about that one? Love to hear from ya! Alexa