Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Shattered Glass ❯ Cracked ( Chapter 4 )

Shattered Glass

Written by Namek Kaia

Disclaimer: I own Dragonball Z! And Piccolo is finally mine! Muhahahahahahahaha!!! Ahem … and I'm lying.

Chapter Four

Cracked

Piccolo couldn't control how his thoughts wandered, or how they were currently locked on Andréa. He didn't know why she wouldn't leave his mind, but it was something he couldn't restrain. Many times had he tried to divert his thoughts elsewhere, to think of anything but her or how it felt to hold her and to feel her skin against his, but somehow he would find himself thinking of her again.

What had gone wrong? Why had she suddenly wanted to be left alone? Was it something he had done? Something he had said? It was then that he recalled his little rant to her on sexual behavior with strangers. He had practically insulted her integrity, if not worse, and genuinely screwed up things with one of the only people who would talk with him without being scared out of their skin. At the very least, he could have thought about what he was saying before it actually escaped his mouth. His words came off much too harsh, all but labeling her a whore. He gave an exasperated sigh as if he were a father lecturing his son; only it was he that mentally lectured himself. "What were you thinking?" he questioned out loud.

A shrill sound wave suddenly broke his concentration as it cut through the air, making an echo in his ears. He winced at his mistake of being distracted enough to become unable to block high-pitched reverberations. Though, once he recovered from the initial shock, he found that the disturbance sounded oddly familiar. He closed his eyes to concentrate as he painfully replayed the sound in his head to examine it and found it had definitely originated from a person… a female person. His eyes flew open. "Andréa…"

No wonder the sound register familiarity.

Without another thought except for that of her safety, he flew as fast as his ki would allow back the way he came. He concentrated on locating exactly where she was, and was finally able to pinpoint her faint energy signature. `For a woman who can withstand a hundred-fifty-foot drop to the ground, she gives one hell of a minute ki reading,' he thought briefly. His sensors had found her inside a large house not far from where she had left him… and she wasn't alone.

Hesitantly, he slowed to a stop and peered inside her mind to find out exactly what was going on. Maybe there wasn't cause for alarm after all. But as he finally broke through her mind's barriers, he was knocked breathless with the rush of emotions dancing in her mind, becoming a catalyst for his own erratic feelings. He felt some many things at once that he didn't know which emotions were his and which were hers, something that was extremely unusual for someone with his experience in mental affairs. Was she so distressed that it was affecting him as well? What the hell was going on?

He then came upon her mind's eye, enabling him to see what she was seeing with her own eyes. It took him a while for him to put everything in place. Her eyes were acting as if they were trying to look at everything in the room all at once. Then he came to understand exactly what was going on.

He snapped.

Everything suddenly became clear. Her stressed emotions left him and all he could feel was burning rage, his own rage. He now understood why she wanted to avoid confrontation with Dar earlier. Piccolo didn't contemplate the reason why he suddenly felt scorn for a man that he hadn't really met; he just did, and that's all he needed to know.

Finally, he pulled out of her mind and continued his previous, neck-breaking speed to Andréa's house. His mind was set, and nothing else mattered to him except settling this rage that burned him inside and out.

Andréa inched her face away from Dar's as it bent toward her in a kiss. Seeing the change of plans, he gladly took advantage and instead kissed her neck, sucking at her flesh before releasing it. Chills crept up her spine and crawled over her skin, but she held back the reflex to whimper in disgust, and forced herself to be as calm as possible.

"What will Fira* think when she discovers you've raped me, Dar? And before the matrimonial ritual too," Andréa mentioned as casually as she could manage, her voice coated with sarcasm.

"Firstly, she'll have to understand after I've told her how disobedient you've been toward me. Secondly…" he paused and loomed over her before nipping her chin lightly, watching with amusement as her face twisted in a snarl, "it's not rape if I make you enjoy it, sweetheart." Once again, his lips descended on her only to have made her head jerk away.

She finally decided to settle her unseeing eyes on the floor. Allowing her mind to drift elsewhere, anywhere but here, she tried to escape the situation in the only way she could.

With his superior strength, Dar shifted his weight to allow one if his hands to roam free while the other still held both of hers above her head so that she couldn't fight him. His free hand grasped the low neckline of her lace-like shirt and used minimal strength to tear the fabric down the middle, gazing in pleasured awe as the pieces slipped away to reveal the black, lacy bra covering her shapely breasts.

It was just as he was recovering from his silent admiration that Andréa's front door buckled inward in a splintered mess. Both their heads jerked in alarm toward the direction of the hall, where debris from the door littered the floor. Andréa's face lit up at the sight of her savior.

"Piccolo!" she shouted happily, and used the opportunity to try to wiggle away again, hoping Dar would be too distracted to keep his grip on her. But to her dismay, his grip was as tight as ever, tighter even.

He scowled, his eyes shooting daggers at the intruder as his throat gave a low growling sound. "You…" he bit out.

Piccolo's stare easily matched Dar's in the loathing it held. He couldn't put into words the magnitude of his anger, much less explain the reason for it. All he knew was that this man called Dar was going to pay for his actions, and much more for his intentions. "Get off her. Now!" he demanded through clenched fangs, his body so tense that he thought his muscles would rip apart from the strain.

"And if I don't? What happens then, green bean? You can't seriously think that you're a match for me in combat. Ha! You are nothing compared to someone like me!" Dar declared, holding his position over Andréa.

"I won't give you another chance, or another warning before I rip you limb from limb!" he threatened heatedly. "Now get off her!"

"Fuck off. This isn't your business. Though, I suppose you could watch if you like," the dark-haired warrior finished casually before lowering his lips to the valley of her breasts, his eyes never leaving Piccolo's in a taunting manner.

Andréa clenched her eyes shut to spare herself the visual of Dar's mouth on her feminine body parts. But she never felt the uneasiness of his touch, and her eyes flew wide open at the sounds of a scuffle soon after she felt the weight instantaneously lifted from above her.

Piccolo was on Dar before he could touch Andréa again, picking him up and slamming his head one good time into the wall. Dar fell face first to the ground, and there he remained. Piccolo expected him to eventually start to move and attempt a counterattack, but he just lay there, unconscious.

"Hmph. Yeah, I'm no match for you. It was wrong of me to even think such a thing," Piccolo said to the beaten man sardonically. Hesitantly, he turned to Andréa to ensure that she was okay. "I'm sorry about your door and your wa-" he started, but was interrupted as she crashed into him, her arms winding around his neck as her legs wrapped around his waist and her face buried into his neck.

To say he was shocked was an understatement.

He could feel her deep inhaling and exhaling over his neck, and noticed that her heart was beating wildly in her chest. But she didn't shake, nor did she give into tears. She just clung to him like he was the only thing left in the world. And in a way, that's exactly what he was to her.

Seeing that there was nothing else to do but comfort her, his arms slowly encircled her small waist and held her. He could easily feel the knots of stress plaguing the length of her back. Slowly, he started to soothe them in attempts to calm her. "It's okay now. Just relax. He'll never hurt you again."

Piccolo's eye ridge rose in concern. `What? Where the hell did that come from?'

`Ah ha! So you do like her. I thought so,' Nail mentioned from the back of Piccolo's mind.

`Quiet! There's no doubt you were the cause of that comment in some way or another.'

`Maybe. But come on, I just helped you to say what you wanted to say. You like her… admit it!'

`Will you kindly shut that trap of yours?! It's hard enough to concentrate as it is without your foolish input. You're going to cause trouble for all of us.'

`Actually,' Kami spoke up, `I agree with Nail. You do act differently around her, whether you mean to or not. And there's not a thing wrong with it. I believe it is high time you found something with which you occupy your time in this period of peace. Carpe diem, my son, carpe diem.'

`Shut up, both of you! I'll hear no more of your nonsense. Just leave it and us alone, got it?'

`Yeah, yeah,' they both chimed in unison and receded to the subconscious of his mind. He was finally alone in his thoughts.

Andréa still clung to him like he was the only thing that kept her afloat in a sea in which she didn't know how to swim. And in more ways than one, he was. She had never felt so safe in anyone's arms before. He brought her a strange sense of security that no one else had managed to evoke. But she could think about none of this. The only thing that registered was how she felt, and right now she felt like she could stay in the warmth of his embrace forever.

Piccolo tried not to think about her open shirt and that her bra-clad breasts were pressed firmly against his chest as he continued to soothe her. He strangely understood that right now she needed someone to be there with her, to comfort her and make her believe that everything would be okay. And he wanted to do just that. But this feeling that ran through him when she was near, it bothered him greatly. If only he could identify it so it could be willed away.

Her heart was still thundering in her chest. She should have calmed by now, or at least her heart rate should have. Had what happened been that traumatizing for her? Or was it something else that made her so uneasy?

"Andréa?" His deep baritone voice that so deftly whispered her name, albeit unintentionally, sent excited chills down her spine and caused lust to bloom in the pit of her stomach. She couldn't hold back the shaky exhale that escaped her mouth and spilled over his throat.

With such a new erotic sensation, Piccolo's eyes drew closed as he tried to ignore that irritating wave of oddity that washed over him tenfold. What was this feeling? And why was it her that brought it out of him? He pushed the thoughts aside and did his best to concentrate on her well being, unaware that she was feeling the exact same weirdness as he. Examining her again, he found that her heart still thumped erratically, but her muscles were at ease.

"Andréa? Are you going to be all right?" he asked her softly, still rubbing her back. He wanted her to tell him how she felt, and what he could do for her. She had been so vocal all night, and now she wouldn't say a word. This silence from her unnerved him.

The sensation of his claw-tipped fingers along her back made it seem as if electricity danced over her skin, like sparks emitted from clashing swords. She was mindlessly atwitter, but aware of each sensitive touch, each soft caress, and each flex of muscle. Andréa found it strange how her body was so responsive to his. Of course she had known lust before, several times, but never like this, and never with someone she had met only hours before. Her longing for him was greater than any longing she remembered having for another.

Something shifted inside Piccolo's mind and his body seemed to act on its own. His right hand traveled up her back and continued along her spine until his palm cupped the back of her head, her hair entwined in his long fingers. Piccolo's other arm encircled her small, sculpted waist, holding her to him. Full, green lips rested in her hair and his nose inhaled the sweet scent of hair spray and shampoo, smells that were intriguingly foreign to him. "Everything is going to be fine. I promise you that," he murmured, almost inaudibly, into her hair. `What is it about her that makes me feel this way?' he contemplated in his mind.

`What is it about him that makes me want to lose control?' she asked herself, the last intentional action she would have before her emotions overpowered her, making her give in to her desire.

Piccolo's eyes went wide and his body stiffened when he felt her supple lips close around the base of his neck. He was thankful that his breath hitched in his throat because he was sure that if it hadn't, an involuntary gasp would have escaped his mouth instead. Just as he was recovering from such an unexpected act, his knees nearly buckled at the sensation of her tongue darting out and gently licking his flesh before slowly suckling at it. She did all of this slowly, thoroughly teasing him.

Blood rushed through him and settled at his groin, causing his pants to feel even more constricting around his large lower frame. He felt hot suddenly, but all he wanted was more. Using all his strength to stay standing under her ministrations, Piccolo reveled in the feeling of her velvety tongue against his burning skin. His hands tightened their grip on her, one massaging her scalp and the other holding her in place as he subtly grinded his hips into hers to relieve some of the pressure that was steadily building between his legs. She moaned at his actions and he nearly came undone at the sound.

For fear that his weight would eventually become too much for his weakening legs, he strode the two steps that it took to reach the black leather couch and sat with her in his lap. It took her only seconds before she became accustomed to his position. She swiftly straddled his hips, playfully grinding as she did, and wasted no time in heatedly claiming his mouth for the second time that night. Grabbing the sides of her ripped shirt, she rolled her shoulders and quickly slipped it off, tossing it somewhere over her shoulder without breaking their kiss.

Piccolo was the first to break away breathless, and he almost felt regretful at her soft whimper, but gently kneaded the skin at her hips in reassurance. He sank back into the soft cushions of the couch to drink in the intoxicating essence that was Andréa. Her skin was rosy and flushed with passion, and her lips swollen from their deep kisses. A slender neck gave way to creamy shoulders and distinct collarbones. Lower still were the perfect mounds of her breasts, still concealed by her lacy, black bra, and nipples taut with desire… an unbelievable desire for him. As his eyes trailed down to the toned muscles of her abdomen, he unsuccessfully held back the urge to run his hands along them, tracing each muscle downward until they reached the waistband of her low-rise jeans.

He didn't know anything about fashion or what was considered the "in" thing to wear. All he knew was that her pants had to be the most delicious-looking piece of clothing he had ever seen anyone wear. They hugged her hips perfectly and stretched over her thighs and calves in a way that reminded him of Saiyan body armor. She was exquisite. And he couldn't get enough of her.

With a sigh, and eyes full of longing that locked on hers for a moment, he dipped his head to her neck and mimicked her previous attentions. His mouth started just below her ear and, encouraged by her soft coos that vibrated across his lips, moved downward until he reached where her neck met her left shoulder before continuing to her collarbone. He nipped at the pronounced bones and lingered teasingly before holding her hips as he softly kissed the first signs of a swell of her breast.

It was her turn to sigh as she placed one hand behind his head and arched into his mouth eagerly. Her hips ground mercilessly into his and an evil grin played across her features before sinking her head to a waiting antenna, swirling her tongue around its pliant length. Pleasure slammed through him with the force of a ki blast, resulting in a fiercer grip on her hips and a strangled moan against her chest. Electric waves washed over him, and what little control he had easily slipped away. Unknowing of such a dramatic change in her victim, Andréa held the head of the appendage between her teeth and teased the tip with her tongue.

Then something snapped.

Andréa noticed a shift in his persona as his grip on her tightened and only increased when she released the antenna. It was starting to become uncomfortable. Had she done something wrong?

Though unbeknownst to her, Piccolo was fighting an internal battle between his present self and his demon self. He was struggling with the last bit of strength he had to suppress his instinctive urge to ravish her right then and there. But his demonic ways were too much for him to overcome this time. His fangs became slightly sharper and his eyes were now visibly clouded. Mind and soul were forced to take a back seat and could only watch as his body dominated his actions.

Air was forced from her lungs at the surprise of her back suddenly meeting the cushions of the couch. Her wide eyes stared into his as he loomed over her, his own eyes raking dominantly over her entire body. His lips crashed down onto hers and he kissed her roughly, almost possessively, as his hands ripped her bra from her chest before fondling the newfound treasures. She nearly screamed into his eager mouth with pleasure when he finally made contact with her aching buds.

Emerald hands roamed further down a creamy stomach until they reached her pants. After fumbling to undo them with no avail, he finally just ripped them off with and grunt and a nip to her lower lip. A moan that sounded more like a whimper escaped her mouth and her eyes fell closed against her will after he moved between her legs. `Piccolo…' was the only coherent phrase mumbled again and again amongst her mews of need.

She was trying to control the tremors of anxiousness that wracked her body when she felt him change again. Long lashes rose from her cheeks to reveal that his large, hovering frame was extremely tense, his face in her neck so she couldn't see the look of horror that twisted his features. Her mouth was about to form words to ask what was wrong and why he had stopped, but was cut off as he slowly moved from above her, seemingly avoiding eye contact. He looked like he was in shock.

"I'm… I… Gods," he stumbled, pausing to take a nearly shaky breath to collect himself. `I almost… Dende help me, I almost…' Not even his mind could acknowledge the word his thoughts were leading to. He had to get away from her… before he caused more harm to her that Dar had.

She could only watch as his head turned toward the still unconscious body of her betrothed and he rose from the couch over to where his opponent had fallen. Still without a mere glance in her direction, he roughly picked up the body and started towards the door. "I'm sorry Andréa," were his last words before walking out the door, confusion and worry evident in his usual stoic eyes. All her mind would allow her to do in such a confused state was stare at the wall he had disappeared behind to exit the broken door.

***************

Piccolo flew from Satan City as fast as he knew how, Dar in tow. `How could I have let myself slip like that? I almost ruined her,' he thought once again as he raced in the direction of his home. The sounds of her pleading whimpers echoed through his mind, a haunting reminder of what triggered his entire relapse. When her pleads registered in his head, the horror of what was happening finally dawned on him. How could he have let it get that far?

The more guilt settled that in his stomach, the more he felt that he should go back and at least explain what had happened so that she wouldn't fear him or, worse yet, hate him. His mind couldn't figure out why it was that he cared what she thought, but he did. Soon, he had slowed to a stop, eyes fixed on some non-particular point on the dark horizon ahead of him as he contemplated what do to.

He needed to go back, for himself if nothing else. And he didn't like that he was being so weak about the entire situation. He had almost done the unthinkable, `almost' being the operative word. He didn't have to feel so guilty about something he didn't even do. `Why does this have to be so complicated?! She may not act like Bulma or ChiChi, but she sure as hell causes the same amount of trouble. At least I didn't come all the way out here for nothing. Dar needs to be as far away from Andréa as possible.' Then, with no more than an impassive shrug, he simply dropped the body from his hold and allowed it to fall to the ground, almost positive that the man would survive, but not caring either way. Whether he lived or died, he would never harm Andréa again. That was for damned sure. Screw her company or anyone else if they think otherwise.

With that, he backtracked to Andréa's house once again. Needless to say, he felt more idiotic than he cared to be.

Upon arriving, he found that her door was still broken, with no signs of makeshift repair. Wooden shards still littered the floor from where he had broken through, meaning she hadn't even tried to clean it up. I made him curious as to what exactly she had been doing in his absence.

Then, as if on cue to his thoughts, he heard the soft chords of music float from inside the house, soon followed by the sound of one of the most angelic voices he had ever heard. It was Andréa, and she was singing.** Slowly, he ventured forth into the house, well aware that there had been no invitation. Hesitantly, he craned his head around the hall corner into the living room to see the object of his desire still on the leather couch, facing him and still mostly naked as she softly strummed the strings of an acoustic guitar.

She lay on the couch in only her underwear, using the far arm of the couch as a headrest as she kept the slow rhythm of the song by tapping the feet of her crossed legs. Her eyes rested closed as she took in the sounds that poured from the tiny earphones attached to a small electronic device. With his acute sense of hearing, he could make out the melody of the slow beat of drums, the tune of a piano, and occasionally what seemed to sound like a saxophone coming from the earpieces.

The mahogany-colored instrument rested on her stomach as she manifested the somber music from it, the soft melodic words weaving through the notes to create the most intriguing thing he had been given the chance to hear. It sounded even sweeter than the beautiful song of birds at dawn, or water cascading over the smooth rocks of a stream. And yet, the maker of this music was still even more breathtaking than her creation. Knowing she couldn't see him, but not all too sure she couldn't sense him, he stared at her in silent awe as he leaned against the entryway of the living room.

"Oh well," she continued singing, not giving any sign that she knew anyone else was in the house. "It was the right train, but I guess we must have been off track. And I've been waiting for so long, but now I know you're never coming back." She barely paused before fluidly continuing to the chorus of the song. "So I'll give up, giving in. Quit playing this game… that I can't win. I wish I could stop, but I don't know where to begin…" her voice trailed off, brows knitted with the emotion of the music as she continued to play, never missing a note. It seemed perfect. And all he could do was watch as her soul seemed to unfold and reveal itself through her performance.

Her voice became bolder, more distinct, and her face returned to its serene expression as she began the second verse. "I wonder how you slipped away. I wonder why. I always wonder if there's a chance… that maybe you know what this is like… inside. It's like a bloodstain, and it's spreading across my chest. And I've been bleeding for so long. I think this heart of mine deserves a rest." Again, she flawlessly repeated the chorus and, for some reason, seemed to sing the words with a sadder tone that before. When she started to sing the bridge, he could almost feel her heart wrench in sorrow so avidly that it was like the emotion radiated off of her.

"And now the wolf is at my door, and it's never gonna be like it was before. And I have cried till I'm insane. And my head is getting cloudy; it's shrouded in this… pain." Her face contorted back into somberness as her words ceased for a while and it was just the music from the guitar that struck him beyond speech. His onyx eyes fixated on her closed ones, studying how they subtly moved behind her eyelids as her fingers now lazily plucked the strings of her instrument.

He took in the sight of her performance, memorizing every detail like this was the last time he would lay eyes upon her. And that could quite possible be the case once she discovered he was there. But all scenarios as to how she would react to him after what happened were overshadowed by his admiration of her form. His eyes left hers and trailed over every inch of her face, knowing he could never explain to anyone how beautiful she looked to him. Dark orbs then traveled lower over her neck to its hollow, and still further to where her chest rose and fell slowly with her calm breaths. `Nothing like the gasps of fear I caused her earlier,' he thought painfully as his view then came to her nimble fingers that were expertly working the strings of the guitar. Even her fingernails looked perfect.

Piccolo's gaze then moved upward along her right arm, concentrating most on her bicep as it flexed with the motions of her hand. Next, he ran his eyes down the length of her left arm, pausing this time at the smooth skin of her forearm as the muscle moved from the different positions she shaped her fingers into. His dark pools flowed over every visible curve and crevice, leaving nothing from his viewpoint neglected until her voice once again sang out the chorus. But this time, he could no longer hear the lyrics. He only gaped her supple lips and the sensuous way they moved around her words.

"Gotta give up.." she sang, seconds before the music ended abruptly and her voice died into silence. It wasn't until then that Piccolo realized that, at some point, his eyes had fallen closed to slowly store her image in his mind. The unexpected quiet of her unfinished song had broken his thoughts and he hesitantly opened his eyes to see her, mouth agape and eyes wide as she stared at him. It could have been a trick of the low lights of the room, but he could have sworn he saw her begin to blush. "How... how long have you been standing there?" she asked as if she was ashamed, not angry.

He felt like he should apologize for being there out of respect for her. After all, he had entered without asking permission. "I'm sorry. It's just... I came and I heard you're music. I didn't want to interrupt."

"Why did you come back?" she whispered breathlessly, sitting up and trying to cover herself as much as she could with the guitar.

"To explain the reason I left in the first place," he answered carefully.

She looked away from him, her eyes cascading down to the plush, off-white carpet. "You don't have to. I know why… and it's okay. You're not the only one who's felt like that. I guess I should be used to it by now."

"You mean others have disrespected you like that?" he asked automatically, even before he realized that it was a slap in his own face. But there was no real use in denying it; he had disrespected her as well. He was no different than Dar.

"Disrespected me? Piccolo, what are you talking about?"

"I was becoming the very thing I had prevented from harming you moments before. I had no control," he explained uneasily, his skin crawling with the mere thought that he had messed up in such a way.

"Are you talking about what you stopped Dar from doing to me?" she asked, thoroughly confused.

He shifted uncomfortably and crossed his arms over his chest, looking anywhere but her eyes and finally concentrated on the night sky outside her window that hung just to his left. "Yes."

Still confused as to what he was talking about, she thought back to exactly what had happened, looking for anything to make sense of what he was saying. After seeing it all again in her head, she finally understood.

"Oh… is that all?" she inquired softly, a smile starting to cross her features.

"What do you mean `is that all'? Do you not understand what I could have done to you?" he asked, his astonished voice booming through the room.

"Yes," she answered calmly, not at all affected by his reaction. "And it wouldn't have been anything that I didn't want you to do. What you were doing and what Dar was doing are two very different things."

"How is that possible?" he questioned, becoming more frustrated and confused, but coming off as sounding logical. "We were doing the same things."

"But I didn't want Dar," she responded slowly, standing and carefully placing her guitar back on the couch before walking toward him. Without being close to her, he could feel her heart beating fast in her chest, or he could have mistaken it for his own racing heart. She stopped just inches from him. Her nose almost touched his chest and her hands tried not to fumble nervously with each other behind her back as she looked up into his eyes.

`Does she mean…?"

"I wanted you," she finished, heat burning in her eyes, enflaming his own. "So what are you going to do about it?"

~ TBC ~

* Fira ~ pronounced Feer-ah

** The song Andréa sings is "Giving Up, Giving In" by Amanda Marshall. She's a kick-ass artist. If you haven't listened to some of her music, then I highly recommend it!

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Yeah… I know this chapter was kinda, well, bleh. But it's all I could come up with and we're all just going to have to live with it. Lol. Tell me what you think with a review. Or just email me at namek_kaia@msn.com. More coming soon! (I hope.) If you find any problems in the chapter, please tell me about them so they can be fixed. Now… on to the Review Responses.

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Thank you all so very much for the reviews so far. And because you went out of your way to tell me what you thought, I'm going out of my way to respond as a thank you. I know I always like seeing my name in someone else's chapter and reading what they thought of my review. It's always good to know that my input didn't go unnoticed, so I'm making notice of all of you!

Hippiechick: Thanks so much for the review!! Don't worry, you know my style of writing and I bet you already guessed what was going to happen at the beginning of this chapter. Hope I keep you wanting those updates, just like I keep wanting yours. ^^ And thanks for helping me on that non mary sue stuff. You're the best!

Credik: Great! Another first timer! So glad I could open you up to the world of Piccolo romances. If you want to read more, I've got some great recommendations. Just contact me if you're interested.

Once again, a BIG thank you to all my reviewers. I love you guys!! *group hug* So… to all you who haven't reviewed, tell me what you think and you'll be included in my Review Responses next time. ^^v ~NaK