Disclaimer: I don't own 'em. I wish I did, but I don't. So, don't sue me. Oh and I don't own the song Sweet Child 'O Mine. It belongs to Guns and Roses; I'm just borrowing it.

Sweet Child of Mine

Chapter 1…I Am My Father's Daughter

By: Ember Maxximus

She's got eyes of the bluest skies, as if they thought of rain. I hate to look into those eyes and see an ounce of pain. Her hair reminds me of a warm safe place, where as a child I'd hide. And pray for the thunder and the rain to quietly pass me by.

The young beauty deeply inhaled the crisp morning air. Filling her lungs repeatedly over and over again as she attempted to regain her composure. Her small body trembled with rage at the thought of being left behind. Angry and hurt she stood in front of the entrance to her father's gravity enhanced training facility.

She would prove him wrong. How dare he have the audacity to utter those words to her.

'Weakling, I am no weakling. I am my father's daughter. I am not weak,' she thought as her fists clenched and relaxed against her sides.

"It's now or never," the azure-eyed child spoke under her breath to herself before she did the unthinkable. She had to do it, regardless of the forewarned consequences informed to her by her only sibling. Besides, he was the reason for her current predicament. Taboo or not it had to be done, so slowly she raised a petite hand and knocked on the door, interrupting her father's work out.

Although the room had been soundproofed long before her birth, her heightened demi-saiyan hearing allowed her to hear a long tirade of elaborate curses that would most likely make any sailor blush. Inside, the room slowly began to stabilize to normal gravity levels and within a minute's time the door slid open to reveal a very perturbed Saiyan prince.

His trademark scowl slightly lightened as his gaze lowered to meet that of his six-year-old daughter. Wisps of blue bangs, which desperately needed a trimming, almost succeeded in hiding the mirrored scowl she gave her father. However, the child was a carbon copy of her mother. They shared aqua locks, cerulean eyes, and a peaches 'n cream complexion. But that scowl, temper, and damnable pride was proof, that in her case, the apple did not fall far from the tree.

"It is too early for lunch. What do you need, brat?"

"Poppa, I am a princess. Trunks is the brat," she huffed. "He said I couldn't go with him and Goten because they wanted to do some serious sparring and I would be in the way and then he said I couldn't even fly."

Vegeta crossed his arms over his muscular chest and smirked down at his beautiful daughter. "What are you going to do about it, Bra?"

"Poppa, I'm not a weakling. Teach me to be strong like you. I want to make Trunks eat his words," Bra lividly said. With her arms crossed and frown set, chibi Bra's demeanor was an exact copy of her sires. The entire scene was absolutely priceless.

"By all means then, come in Bra," Vegeta amusingly spoke as he stepped aside allowing his only daughter access to his most prized possession, the gravity chamber.

Sweet child of mine, sweet love of mine

TO BE CONTINUED…

Chapter 2…Hook, Line, & Sinker

Sweet child o' mine, sweet love of mine

Bright blue eyes fervently followed the Saiyan no ouji as he walked from the gravity room's entrance to the room's main control panel. Chibi Bra studied her father intensely as she memorized the sequence necessary to operate domed room. Vegeta engaged the gravity. His gloved hand turned the red dial clockwise; the digital display besides it read two, then six, before stopping at fifteen times Chikyuu's normal gravity.

Immediately Bra's small body felt painfully heavy, but she showed no indication to the fact. She set her expression in that of stone, a perfect replication of the mask worn by her otousan.

Ignoring his blue haired daughter, Vegeta strode to the room's center and began stretching his muscles. With much effort, Bra went to stand besides her father. She imitated his every move. They started off stretching their calves and ended seven minutes later with biceps. The rest of the morning was spent committing several different kata's to memory.

It had been two hours since they had begun and Bra's tired body had finally adjusted itself to the room's high gravity. Seeing this, Vegeta returned to the control panel and doubled the room's gravity level to an astonishing thirty times Chikyuu's normal gravity.

Bra was caught totally unprepared by that little stint, so she fell unceremoniously to the floor, as if her underpants secretly contained magnets.

"Pappa!" Bra fumed as she rose to her feet.

Vegeta smirked, the child's outburst reminded him of the onna, the child's kaasan and his bonded mate, Bulma.

"The kata's you've just learned, do them now," commanded Vegeta in a raspy voice.

"Hai, Pappa."

Vegeta circled the girl as she performed the task asked of her. He interrupted her kata twice to adjust her posture and reposition her fists. Considering she had never had any sort of real formal training, she was doing impressively well. But, what else could one expect? She was the daughter of the legendary Saiyan no ouji and Chikyuu's most celebrated genius.

"These kata's," he began as he crouched into an attack stance, meanwhile Bra still continued practicing "contain basic offensive and defensive moves."

He threw a light jab at her abdomen, which she easily blocked. From there they spent a few more hours working on improving Bra's technique by way if light sparring.

Bra was thoroughly enjoying herself. The song of battle sung loudly, though off-key, in her blood as she and her father danced around one other in a flurry of blocked kicks and punches. Vegeta began to increase his speed and power, while Bra did everything in her control to avoid being pummeled. Then unexpectedly Vegeta released a small Ki attack aimed for Bra's chest. For a brief moment her face betrayed a look of pure shock then she instinctively crossed her arms in front of her at wrists and flared her Ki shield. The only damage that the Ki blast managed to do was to extremely anger the small child.

"Pappa!" she yelled. "You could've killed me!" As she spoke the air around her began to crackle. "That was ugly Pappa, I can't even make Ki balls yet and you---" Bra never had the chance to complete her words as Vegeta hurtled another small Ki blast in the child's direction. Bra eye's opened to the size of saucer's in utter disbelief. Consumed with anger, the child caught the Ki ball chucked it back at its owner.

"Stop it daddy!" screamed the irate demi-saiyan as Vegeta tossed another blast in her path. However, this time Bra deflected the orb and returned the favor with one of her own. This time it was Vegeta's turn to catch the Ki sphere. He held it in his hand admiringly then squashed it in his palm.

"Not bad Bra-chan, but I thought you couldn't make Ki blasts."

Her attitude did a complete 180-degree turn as she realized what he'd just done to her. "Pappa you tricked me," giggled a now very elated Bra. She sprinted the distance to her father and wrapped her arms around his brawny waist.

"Arigatou, Pappa, arigatou," beamed Bra.

"You are too easily baited, just like your kaasan. That can be a disadvantage for a warrior. We'll have to work on that."

'A warrior,' Bra happily thought, recognizing her father's hidden compliment.

Vegeta went to the control panel and disengaged the gravity. Bra suddenly felt feather light.

"We've missed lunch," Vegeta scowled. "Get inside the house and bathe, hopefully your mother has decided against cooking and ordered take out."

"You're so silly Pappa," laughed Bra.

"Brat, the Saiyan no Ouji is not silly," stated Vegeta as he attempted to bait his daughter again.

"Oh yeah, well if that's how you want to be silly Pappa, the Saiyan no Hime is no brat. Remember Trunks is the brat! I am a princess," Bra spoke as regally as she could, nose in the air.

Vegeta playfully growled at the upstart little brat princess and was surprised when she growled back in return. Bra broke into a fit of giggles at the absurdity of the situation before regaining her poise.

"Pappa?" she asked seriously.

"Hmpff," he snorted.

"Can we not tell Momma or Trunks about this? I wanna surprise them," she asked mischievously.

Vegeta was fully aware of his daughters' sinister intentions, she had the same objective that he had for that circus clown, Kakkarot. Although he didn't show it, inside he beamed with pride at her very Saiyan like approach to handling her current situation.

He could just about see the wheels turning in her little mind.

Bra looked up at her father inquisitively, waiting for his response, which came in a slight nod of his head.

"Tomorrow you will learn to fly, be here at 6:45."

"Yosh!" Bra exclaimed.

Together they exited the domed building. Bra was in seventh heaven. She skipped the entire way back to the house and up the stairs to her room. She began her bath, tossing in three Barbie dolls and a half a dozen or so X-Men into the watermelon scented bubble water.

While in the bathtub, the doorbell rang and within a matter of seconds the aroma of freshly baked pizza filled Bra's delicate demi-saiyan nose.

"Woohoo! Momma got us Little Ceaser's pizza!" she sung as she waved her wet Rouge and Storm action figures through the air. "I'm gonna learn to fly just like you, Storm."

The blue haired child finished her bath and dressed then went downstairs for some dinner.

'I can't wait until the morning, Pappa's gonna teach me to fly,' she happily thought as piled her plate high with pizza and sat at the table with her mother, father, brother, and Goten. She gave her lavender haired brother and his goofy best friend dirty looks as she munched away on her dinner and plotted the demise of her despicable brother.

Where do we go

Where do we go now

Where do we go

Sweet child 'o mine

TO BE CONTINUED…

Chapter 3…Bra Pancakes

Twinkling stars faded as night skies change from indigo to lilac to more elaborate shades of pastels. The rising sun crested over distant hills and soon the blue jays and the robin's song filled the air with beautiful melodies.

However, a certain six-year-old Saiyan no Hime was oblivious to the beautiful song of Dende's creatures. She had awoken earlier that day, five a.m. to be exact. She was extremely anxious for the flight lessons with her father. So, rising over an hour earlier than she'd originally planned to, the little princess just went ahead with her morning and dressed.

'What to wear, what to wear,' She pondered while staring into to the closet. She settled on a fuscia shirt with the words -Girrrl Power!- in glittering silver letters across the front and a pair of denim shorts. In the bathroom, she quickly brushed her teeth with her purple Scooby-Doo toothbrush and then meticulously plaited her hair at the nape of her neck in one long braid.

Breakfast consisted of four bowls of cereal and one tall glass of orange juice. It was now five thirty and Bra still had over an hour to kill until her Pappa would be ready for her.

'I guess I could do my stretches and practice my katas until Pappa is ready.'

She marched out to the gravity chamber and to her surprise it was already on. She looked through the small porthole to see her father inside. Sweat dripped from his muscular body as he vigorously exercised at four hundred times Chikyuu's normal gravity. Ki blasts ricocheted of the walls, while battle simulation droids seemed intent on killing him, but her father merely destroyed each robot and deflected every blast as if it were simply child's play.

She watched his entire workout completely flabbergasted. She always knew her Pappa was strong, but Dende, she had absolutely no idea he was that strong. My father, the hero. The thought drifted through her mind as she stared at him in a daze.

'I want to be strong just like you, otousan, just like you,' she thought. Bra left the window and set out to do as originally planned, the stretches and katas.

Unbeknownst to her Vegeta was aware of his daughter's presence the entire time. As six forty-five neared, Vegeta completed his workout and took the opportunity to observe his little princess in action.

"Good morning Pappa," she beamed as Vegeta finally exited the gravity chamber.

He acknowledged her, yet didn't with one of his typical 'hmpfs'. "I'm ready Pappa, I've already warmed up."

Vegeta lifted his daughter into his arms. "Hold on," he commanded in a raspy voice.

Bra wrapped her arms around her father's neck tightly and like a rocket, the Saiyan prince blasted into morning sky.

They flew like this for two hours, circling Chikyuu more than once. Bra felt fully at ease with their altitude and velocity. She was honestly having the time of her life. Actually, anytime she'd win over Vegeta's affections was blissful, being that Vegeta was not exactly the doting father. He did love his family; he just rarely openly displayed these emotions.

Bra shifted in his grip so that she could see the ground below as they flew.

'Ready, Bra?' he whispered into her mind.

"Nani!?!"

'Speak to me with your mind Bra-chan.'

'Like this, Pappa,' she replied as she intensely concentrated, her face screwy and contorted as she tried.

'Hai, now pay attention. Focus your Ki, push it beneath you, and use it to propel yourself forward. Are you ready?'

'Hai.'

Vegeta blasted up into the atmosphere. The air became colder and thinner, Bra found it difficult to breath.

'Summon your Ki shield, it will protect you against the elements.'

She did as she was told. A faint pink aura engulfed the child. Bra felt immediately better. Then Vegeta dropped her, he simply let her go and Bra plummeted to the world below.

She panicked. She was freefalling towards the ground and her father was nowhere to be seen. Terror gripped the child; below she saw rock formations and trees becoming closer and closer and closer. The grotesque image of a 'Bra Pancake' teased her mind into a fearful frenzy. Two hundred feet. Her Saiyan instincts began to react. One hundred feet. She ignited her Ki shield. Fifty feet. She forced her Ki Beneath. Twenty-five feet. Nothing. Ten feet, nine feet, eight feet, seven feet…a scream tore from her vocal cords, primal in sound, etched with horror. Six feet, then five feet, followed by four feet…then nothing.

Nothing?

No excruciating pain, no sound of crunching bones, no aches…nothing. She opened her eyes which she had had squeezed shut and exhaled a breath that she had not realized she had been holding been holding until now.

'I knew Pappa wouldn't let me die. Arigatou, Pappa. Arigatou for catching me.'

"Thank yourself brat, I did not catch you," spoke her father aloud as he fazed into her sights.

Then the reality of what had just transgressed hit her with the force of a kamehameha. "I did it!" she exclaimed, looking down to see that she was indeed hovering three feet above the ground on her own accord.

"My father used the same technique to teach me to fly," Vegeta confided to her.

Bra nodded, this was the first time she'd ever heard him speak to her of her long dead grandfather.

"It took your brother eight tries before he was able to fly and they tell me that that idiot Kakarrott's son, Goten, was a super Saiyan before he could fly."

Big blue eyes looked up into obsidian eyes. "Pappa," she spoke. "Do you think that I can be a super Saiyan too?"

Vegeta was reminded of his firstborn, how he had reached the legendary status before even leaving grade school. He recalled that day in the gravity room, what had he said…oh, yes, something along the lines of a super Saiyan bargain sale.

"Trunks was a super Saiyan by eight standard years of age," Vegeta stated, attempting to once again, bait the child.

"Well I'm six. That would be so cool if I could do it too, huh Pappa?"

"It's not going to happen while you sit there daydreaming about it," Vegeta roughly enlightened her.

"Show me Pappa, teach me," implored his daughter.

Vegeta focused on his energy, tapping deep into the reservoirs of his incredible power. He flared his Ki, onyx eyes turned teal, black spikes became golden. His iridescent power crackled around him, making the tiny aqua hairs on the back of the child's neck stand on end. She was in complete awe at his immense power. He stood like a golden warrior against the backdrop of the desert cliffs.

'It's beautiful, Pappa,' she thought to him, lifting a small to feel his bare arm. To the touch, he was warm and charged full of electricity as if he plugged into some huge electrical outlet.

Determined, Bra tapped into her own Ki, attempting to emulate her father's form. She strained, concentrating on her power. Her aura blazed to pink then fuscia. She forced herself as hard as she possibly could. But, nothing. She fell to her hands and knees panting, she was exhausted.

Vegeta lifted Bra into his arms, protectively holding her weary body against his. Now words were exchanged as he carried her sleeping form all the way home to Capsule Corporation. Once there, he deposited the slumbering child onto her flowered canopy bed.

"Not tired…" she murmured. "Going to train with you, Pappa."

"Rest now," he sternly told her. "Tomorrow and every day there after, you will train with me from six to eight. Then you will spend the rest of the day training in solitude. You will keep this routine until fall classes began. Then we will see."

"Arigatou, Pappa," she spoke softly as fatigue claimed the demi-saiyan child.

.

.

Where do we go, where do we go now, Sweet Child of Mine.

.

TO BE CONTINUED…

Agent Scuba Pan & Chapter 4…Super The Crispy Critter

Bra Briefs routine over the next six weeks was the same. Each day she awoke to dress, eat, train with her otousan, train alone, eat, bathe and sleep. Only to repeat the monotonous cycle all over again the following day, the only variation she felt was the increase in her power level, which had made enormous leaps and bounds since the day she'd originally sought her father's help. And those huge increases in her Ki made every moment of her agonizing workouts significant. Each and every drop of blood, bead of sweat, and every shed tear was well worth it.

Her company was much missed by her grandparents, mother and most of all her best friend in the whole wide world Son Pan. Son Pan was the only child of Gohan and Videl and the granddaughter of her father's biggest rival, Goku. Bra and Pan had always been close, like sisters and for Bra to up and shut Pan out of her life without a single word as to why was quite unbearable for the spunky little hybrid. No ill remarks or silly squabbles had taken place, so Pan decided she'd hunt her friend down and make her talk to her.

The stunning raven-haired seven year old left her home early that morning in hopes of catching up with the M.I.A. Bra. She arrived at the Capsule Corp. compound shortly before 9 a.m. For some unknown reason she felt timid. She lacked the conviction to even raise her small finger to ring the doorbell.

'What if she's mad at me. What if she doesn't want to be friends anymore. Bra's the only other kid out there like me,' Pan sadly thought.

Throwing her fears out the window she raised her finger to ring the bell, but as she was about to make contact with the buzzer she was overcome by an odd Ki. It was familiar, yet not. This energy signature almost felt like her friend, only it was a hundred times stronger than anything she'd ever experienced emanating from Bra. The Ki was now moving. Pan stealthily made her way to the side of the mansion and saw Bra leap from her bedroom balcony and take flight.

'NANI!?! What in the home for infinite losers! Bra's flying, masaka!'

Lowering her Ki, Pan jumped into the air to follow Bra. She pursued the chibi princess relentlessly as Bra flew over mountains and oceans. Suddenly Bra halted. Pan panicked, they were over the sea and there was nowhere to hide to avoid detection. Her brain kicked into overdrive, she mustn't be seen by Bra.

'I got it!' Pan thought as she extinguished her energy and allowed herself to soundlessly fall into the water. Ten feet below the surface, she could make out Bra's silhouette in the distance. Glad that she hadn't been spotted, she rejoiced in her own cleverness. She held her breath, waiting for Bra to continue on, but she remained floating motionless. Pan lungs began to ache; she released the air that she'd been holding. The cluster of bubbles rose to the water's surface. Pan continued to observe Bra's outline. The salt water was beginning to sting her eyes; she briefly closed her eyes in attempts to counter the irritation, but when she opened her eyes, Bra was no longer there.

'WooHoo, I'm so awesome! She didn't seen me.'

She began to swim to water's surface; she was almost there when she abruptly felt the collar of her shirt being roughly yanked upwards from behind. She tried to turn to attack the unfortunate shark or whatever sea monster had crossed her path. Flaring her Ki, Pan and the would be aquatic assailant ascended from the blue waters rising fifty feet into the morning sky.

Pan reached behind to grab her aggressor, and was very surprised to grab a wrist and not some slippery appendage. In return, a hand clamped over her wrist and flung her petite body upwards towards the sun. Dazed and confused, Pan slammed on her air brakes to right herself only to find that she was now face to face with an extremely angry Bra.

Bra pointed her finger painfully into her friend's wet chest. "You were spying on me!" She accused.

"I…I didn't mean to, it just happened. I haven't seen you since forever," she nervously began, "and I miss playing with you and…. um…I came by early this morning and then I saw you flying…Omikami! Bra what else have you been hiding from me?"

Bra's anger melted away. How could she honestly stay angry with her best friend, especially when her intentions were so pure?

The corners of Bra's lips began to turn up into beautiful smile. "I missed you too Panny, I really wanted to tell you but Pappa said I should train alone."

"Vegeta-san is training you?" Pan asked in shock.

"Only in the mornings. Hey, come on I'll show you my secret training spot. You can spar with me too, I could really use a punching bag."

Pan gave Bra the you're-so-dead-glare and growled at the comment. "Don't be so sure of yourself Bra. How do you know it's not gonna be the other way around?"

Bra just rolled her eyes. "Because I'm the Saiyan no Hime, that's why, now come on Pan and quit being so mad."

Pan laughed it off, she'd truly missed Bra's company and this was the first time ever she'd had the opportunity to spar with some one close to her own age.

They landed in a sandy clearing on the small island. It was approximately two miles in diameter. It had a huge beach at the base of tall sea cliff. Atop the massive rock face was a tropical paradise. Lush green landscape of exotic trees and plants decorated the little isle.

"This place is so cool," Pan stated.

"Ya, ya, ya. Whatever. We can play here later."

Bra put her game face on and eased into her attack stance. Pan did the same. They circled each other measuring one other's Ki. Bra was the first to attack. She phased into Pan's arm's reach and cold cocked her older friend dead in the jaw. Pan was forced back several feet and was able to stop herself just inches before she hit cliff.

"Ouch, Bra-chan," Pan whined as she rubbed her bruised jaw.

"Stop being a baby, Panny. Don't hold back, okay?"

Pan nodded. She flew at Bra with combination of kicks and punches. Bra deflected every one. Pan then decided to take this fight to air. Both girls hovered high in the sky above the island, which appeared to be only a tiny speck in the blue ocean.

Pan lunged at Bra again, sending a flurry of blows her way. Bra was able to block the punches however the unexpected kick to the kidney did make contact. Bra winced in pain, glaring daggers in Pan's direction. She charged at Pan, flying at full speed. Pan crossed her arms in front of her, prepared for Bra brutal assault. Fist raised, Bra faked Pan out by phasing out of view, only to show up behind her with a retaliatory knee to Pan's kidney.

The chibi demi-saiyan girls battled well into the afternoon in the intense fighting match. Throughout the sparring session Bra was surprisingly able to keep the upper hand against Pan, which didn't go over very well with Pan. The raven-haired child summoned her Ki, with both palms open at her side she began.

"Ka-me-ha-me-HA!"

She released the blast at Bra. Images of Bra crispy critters flashed in her mind. The Kamehameha was entirely too big to deflect, she had only one option…her father's Big Bang Attack. Sure, she'd seen both her father and brother perform the blast several times, however she'd never tried it herself. It was the only choice, either that or Bra crispy critters and frankly Bra had no desire to hear her mother rant about burnt blue hair.

Concentrating, she beckoned her Ki to her fingertips. She performed the intricate hand gestures, and then released the Big Bang Attack against Son Pan's Kamehameha. Pan had no chance. Bra's attack merely absorbed the Son trademark move and kept on going, knocking little Panny fifty feet out of the air, down to the island's sandy beach below where she landed rear end first with a loud thump.

Bra flew to the island below where Pan was rising to her feet and rubbing her sore booty.

"Ouch, Bra-chan, that's gonna leave a bruise," Pan moaned.

"Well you're crazy to think that I would've let you Kamehameha my favorite shirt," she said matter-of-factly as she rubbed the fading fuscia top with the words -Girrrl Power!- in glittering silver letters.

"You're a nut, Bra," Pan giggled.

"C'mon let's go to my house and eat, you can spend the night, okay?"

"I'd like that Bra no Hime," laughed Pan.

"Hey, I'm a princess for real! My Pappa says so."

"My Daddy calls me an angel but I don't make you call me that."

"Shut up Pan, I am a real princess! Pappa is the Prince of Vegeta-sei and of all the Saiyans, you can ask him when we get home."

Pan face went to a look of slight fear as she raised her hands in front of her. "Uh…nope. Your daddy scares me."

"He's not that bad, Panny."

"Oh, yes he is. Are you sure that you don't wanna spend the night at my house instead?"

"Not a chance," Bra grabbed Pan's arm and the girls flew in the direction of Capsule Corp.

TO BE CONTINUED…

Chapter 5…Molten Lava

The aroma of freshly baked garlic bread completely filled the residence, mingled with the delicious smell of homemade lasagna, the home could easily be confused with that of a fine dining Italian bistro. Full of pride, she admired the masterpiece she'd just created, otherwise known as dinner. It consisted of seventeen lasagnas, twelve loaves of garlic bread, and fourteen bags of ready-made salad.

Drawn like a moth to a flame, the Saiyan no Ouji drifted into his residence, with only one thought on his mind…food. "Woman!" Vegeta called out, searching for his absent wife.

Bulma sauntered out of the kitchen, slightly disheveled, but still stunning nonetheless. Tossing aside the stained apron, she met her husband's firm gaze, "You'd think, that just once you'd might be able to address by my name."

Ignoring her remark, he walked up to the table intent on beginning his meal; when her willowy hand caught his strong forearm, "Don't even think about, Saiyan." Tugging his arm, she pulled her ravenous alien mate away from the feast. "You reek of sweat and you're filthy."

"As if you'd have me any other way." Using his Saiyan speed, he pinned her against the wall, palm on either side, denying her escape.

"What are you doing?" she laughed.

"What does it look like woman, I'm paying homage to the chef. Is that not what is written across your apron," his raspy voice replied into her ear.

"Oh," she giggled. "You mean 'Kiss The Cook', I wear that whenever I cook, you've never minded it before."

"You've never cooked before, woman." She looked at him puzzled by his response as he nuzzled her neck. "You more often than not massacre or burn, not cook."

"Hey!" she exclaimed, attempting to slap him, but he effortlessly caught the palm before it connected. With her other hand she tried once again to strike the condescending prince, but failed miserably as he caught that hand as well. Easily, he pulled her against his chiseled body, claiming the soft lips of the cook.

*~*~*

At breakneck speeds, the chibi best friends flew to Bra's home, Capsule Corp. Bra and Pan burst through the front entrance, overwhelmed by the perfume of the perfectly cooked dinner.

"Wow, mom! This looks good, where'd ya order it from?" asked Bra, as her mouthed watered at the banquet style meal.

"I cooked it myself! Oh my Kami, look at you two. Bra, you're filthy and Pan…Pan! You're jaw is…is purple. Explanation, now!" questioned a very concerned Bulma.

Putting forth her best dramatic performance, Bra began, "Mom, we were just playing and Pan fell." Of course, it wasn't entirely a lie, ne? Pan did fall right on Bra's fist. "Mom, Pan's gonna spend the night."

She exhaled intensely, running her slender fingers through her short aqua locks, "That's fine, just call Videl and Gohan…And girls, you smell like the sun. Don't even think about going near my table until you're both bathed," turning to look at her husband she spoke, "P-U, that's includes you as well."

The comment received a growl from the Saiyan no Ouji causing the girls to giggle. The chibi onnas ran upstairs to separate bathrooms to do as were told by Bulma. Shortly thereafter, Vegeta traipsed to his own master bath to wash away the days' worth of perspiration and grime.

*~*~*~

Videl arrived early the following Saturday morning to pick up Pan. Apparently, Videl needed to go shopping for Gohan's upcoming birthday and this was the only inconspicuous time that she was able to manage to do so. Bra and Pan said their good-byes, promising not to go so long again without getting together to play Barbie's, pretend, or the ever popular 'My Ki's bigger than yours' game.

With Pan gone, Bra was finally able to go out to the gravity room with her father and train with him, as she had done religiously for the past six weeks. She raised her small hand to knock on the door, but before even having the chance to do so, the machine turned off and the door slid open, exposing an exceptionally smug Saiyan Prince. He stepped aside, permiting his only daughter entrance into the one of a kind training facility. She finds a spot near the room's center to begin her warm-up stretches, but no sooner had she begun Vegeta decided to converse with the chibi onna.

"You're late," He chastised her in his most intimidating voice.

"I'm sorry Pappa, but Videl-san just picked Pan-chan up," she said defensively.

"Speaking of that circus clown's grand spawn, I distinctly recall telling you to train alone." Arms crossed over his broad chest, he icily glared at Bra, waiting for her reply.

"Pappa, she followed me. I didn't even know it unti-"

He cut her off mid sentence, "Quit wasting my time with your excuses! You should have known she was there. I'm disappointed with you brat. Your disobedience and lack of initiative to train are unacceptable; maybe it was a mistake to train you. Considering your bloodline, your Ki rating is rather weak. Perhaps your mother's dam might be willing to guide you in the art of baking and gossip. You've squandered enough of my valuable time. Leave, I no longer wish to teach you."

Tears brimmed in her clear azure eyes, spilling down her cheeks in a waterfall of pain and hurt. Her chest tightened, preparing for the onslaught of forthcoming sobs. "Don't say that Daddy. Give me another chance, I promise to do better…I'm not weak."

Fixing his cold gaze upon the blue-haired child, he pointed at the exit, growling between clenched teeth, one single word, "Out."

"Daddy, you don't mean it. Let me stay…please," she whimpered.

"Do not presume to know what I mean," he began as he walked towards the room's control panel. "Be stubborn if you choose, but know this brat..." He turned on the gravity; slowly he turned the dial, upping the gravitational level to his norm. "Your mother's senzu supply is depleted," he informs her as he replaces his scowl with a devious smirk.

Bra's feet felt glued to the floor with the enormous pressure that the 200 g's were putting on her small form. She grimaces from the pain that the gravity's stress is forces upon her unaccustomed body. Vegeta circles the girl, continuing his taunts, "You are unworthy to call yourself a princess, your human blood taints you. It's disgusting." Then came the final verbal blow. Adding even more insult to injury, he sneered one word, "Weakling," and turned his back on the weeping child.

Each word struck like a slap in the face. Each word held more power than any Ki blast imaginable. Each word cut like a knife. Is this how he saw her? Is this how he truthfully felt. Her Pappa must hate her. Those malicious and vindictive words could only be uttered out of extreme dislike. 'He hates me. I've failed him,' she thought. Never in her short seven years of life had she ever been spoken to so cruelly. Grief turned to anger that began to cloud her contemplation. 'I'm not weak! I'll show him! I'll show him!"

Anger. Blood boiling anger. Gut wrenching resentment. Steaming fury. Complete unadulterated vehement rage. It overpowered all other emotions, making known it's presence in aura of blazing crimson Ki. It felt so different, so alien, so Saiyan. A well. A well of unfathomable power…wanting, seeking, needing a release. So simple, so easy.

Tap the well. Drink it's power. Feel it's power. Coursing through veins like molten lava. Angry, hot molten lava. requiring, fixating, craving its release, its eruption. Blinded by rage. White, hot rage. Showing itself in aura. Transforming red Ki to white hot blinding aura. Hot like the sun. Then she snapped. Burning hot like the sun…Letting it go, she freed it all. Unleashing hell upon her betrayer, her father, in one massive blast of energy. Hot energy, burning hot like the sun…and golden too.

An explosion sounded. She flared her Ki to protect herself. It was necessary to avoid injury from the flying shrapnel of the collapsing gravity room. She concentrated her entire being on that life saving energy shield, only letting it go after the dust settled.

She looked around at the remnants of the gravity chamber. Through the fire and smoke she saw the figure of her father rising from his knees to stand proud and tall. She ran the small stretch to stand at the man's side.

"Are you alright Pappa? Did I hurt you?" He scoffs at the child's questions, as if such a minor detonation could actually harm the legendary. "Your gravity room. I'm sorry Pappa. I don't know what happened. I just snapped. I didn't mean to-"

"You didn't mean to what," Vegeta interrupted. "You didn't mean to go Super Saiyan and blow up my training room because I called you some names," he smirked.

Bra's soot covered face suddenly took on the look of sheer shock. "Super Saiyan?" she asked in disbelief.

"Hai. Super Saiyan."

"Pappa, you tricked me again, you really didn't mean those nasty things" Bra accused.

"What do you think?" he asked his young daughter, pride evident in his raspy voice.

The front door of Capsule Corp swung open and out ran a very concerned Bulma. She ran to her family carefully inspecting them both for injuries. "Are you hurt, Bra, Vegeta? Are you okay?" she asked panic stricken.

"We're fine, onna."

Not convinced she continued her thorough inspection of the pair before questioning again, "Are you sure you're alright, I brought senzu."

"Daddy!" she squealed. Recalling her father earlier unpleasant words, Bra punched Vegeta in the arm.

"Bulma, all is well, but I will require a new gravity room," he spoke somewhat soothingly, meeting his wife's cerulean gaze.

"Whatever, Vegeta. Bra could've been hurt and you know, these don't grow on trees. Gravity room cost a great deal of money to make. You know what mister, I'm sick and tired of building new gravity rooms for you to destroy. I do have a business to run," she fussed at him.

"Come on Bra, let's go get some ice cream." He lifted the child into his arms and leapt into the sky towards the local ice-cream parlor.

Bulma called the C.C. cleanup crew to take care of the gravity room fiasco. She oversaw the employees, wondering how that darn prince managed to annihilate it this time.

"Mom!" called the frantic voice of her eldest child. She turned to see Trunks touching down, sword in hand, still clad in his custom navy blue tailored Armani suit. In the blink of eye, he phased into her immediate presence, concern written across his handsome face.

Reaching out, she placed a comforting had on his shoulder, giving it a good squeeze. "Everything's all right, Trunks. Your father just decided to blow up his gravity room again." She informed him bitterly.

He regarded her reply skeptically, "That's strange."

"Why?"

"Because, the powerful Ki I felt was not father's. Unless he's learned some new secret technique to disguise hi energy," he stated thoughtfully.

"Nope. When I heard the explosion, I came outside. Just your father and sister stood near the rubble," she commented matter-of-factly.

"Where'd he go, I'd like to ask him about it."

"You barely missed him. He left with Bra, said something about ice-cream."

"You're telling me he obliterated his gravity room and then on his own free will he happily took Bra out for ice-cream?" Trunks asked, very perplexed.

"Yeah, that's about right. Don't worry yourself over it, Trunks. I've come to learn that trying to analyze Vegeta only results in headaches." She looked at her wristwatch, and then returned her gaze to Trunks. "Aren't you supposed to be at a shareholders meeting right now?"

"Err…right." He kissed his mother good-bye on the cheek muttering quickly something along the lines of, "alrighttalktoyougottagoIloveyoumom." He leapt into the air, returning to back to his prestigious V.P. job at Capsule Corporation, mentally noting that he must speak with his father after work.

.

Sweet child of mine, sweet love of mine…

.

TO BE CONTINUED…

Chapter Six…National Geographic Presents…

The scent of jasmine blossoms clung to the gentle breeze that meandered itself through the courtyard of West Capitol Community College. She sat alone in the thick grass, patiently waiting for classes to end. Eyes closed, chin lifted towards the sun, she lazily absorbed the warm sunshine while focusing on the Ki of her unwary mark.

The bell sounded, announcing the conclusion of the afternoon classes. Students of every age, race, and creed poured from the doors of the higher learning facility. She rose to her feet, dusting the grass from the backside of her flowered short set. She finger combed her aqua pigtails then carefully smoothed her outfit. To the unsuspecting bystander, she was merely an adorable little azure-eyed cherub and that was just how she liked it.

Bra slung the Hello Kitty sack over her shoulder and skipped in the direction of the familiar Ki. Down the halls she went, the mighty hunter seeking the unsuspecting prey. She paid no heed to comments made by those she passed. "Aw, what a cute child," or "Isn't she sweet, look at her blue pigtails."

'Fools,' she thought as she continued skipping, beaming ear to ear. She inhaled deeply, scenting the air. He was near. His all too recognizable musk lingered in the emptying corridors. She trailed his scent and focused on his energy signature. On she went, right down this hallway and left down that. Then she saw him. He was leaning against a wall, speaking with a modestly attractive brunette.

Unnoticed, she stood by eavesdropping on the two. "Come on, Paris. Dinner and a movie, tonight, just the two of us." He took her hand in his, giving her that big, goofy smile.

'Oh no she doesn't,' thought chibi Bra. 'He's mine tonight.' She screwed her face up and ran down the hallway to young man.

"Goten!" she cried out. She ran to him, wrapping her arms around his waist. "I was so scared!"

"B-chan? What are you doing here?" he asked puzzled. He kneeled down to the child's height.

Unleashing the bogus tears, a trait bequeathed to all little girls, she let them fill her eyes, then wailed, "You forgot about me! You were suppose to meet me out front after class, remember," she faux sobbed, "then you weren't there and then the stranger tried to give me candy and…" she covered her face with her hands to hide the forming smirk.

"Oh, Bra-chan, you're mistaken…but, let's just get you home." He comfortingly wiped the alligator tears away. "Sorry Paris, I need to get Trunks' lil' sister home. Can I call you later?" he asked, while cradling Bra against his chest.

"I would say yes, but you'd probably forget about that, too!" She told him venomously. Turning on her heel, she walked away from the pair, nose high in the air.

"Paris, wait! It's not what you think," he called after her, but she simply ignored him, turning the corner out of sight.

He exhaled deeply, shaking his head. "C'mon Bra. I'm sure Bulma's worried sick over you."

"No she's not. I'm allowed to play wherever I want to, as long as I'm home by dinner," she smiled her sweetest smile at the dumbstruck demi-saiyan.

"I don't understand Bra." She took Goten's hand, leading him to the exit.

"Well Goten, I need your help dealing with a little problem of mine…Trunks."

"You mean to tell me that I just lost my shot with the hottest girl on campus because of you."

"She was ugly, forget about her. Let me tell you what I need you to do."

"I tell you B-chan, between you and your brother, both of you constantly keep me in trouble. C'mon let's get you home already."

They exited the hall of the college campus and continued their walk until they were at a safe, discreet position to take to the sky.

"Okay, Bra, do you want me to carry you or do you want to get on my back," he asked her.

She screwed her face up, contemplating her answer. "I told you! I want you to help me trick Trunks!"

"Huh?" he asked, not sure if he'd heard the child correctly.

Irritated by having to repeat herself, she said, making sure to enunciate each and every syllable, "You-Have-To-Help-Me-Trick-Trunks."

"Bra, did you come out here making up stories about babysitting and strangers with candy so that you could get me to help you prank my best friend?"

The child crossed her arms over her chest, staring the youngest Son son straight in the eye and answered, "Duh. And you have to help me because Pappa is the Prince of all Saiyans. That means I'm the Princess of all Saiyans and you're a Saiyan so you have to do what I say!"

Goten's anger melted away into amusement at the girl's audacity to order him to do such a thing. Nonetheless, he found it all quite entertaining and decided to humor his best friend's kid sister. "I can't do it B-chan," he informed her matter-of-factly. "I'd like to, but I can't. You see, my loyalty belongs to Prince Trunks and well…what you're asking me to do is to commit treason against my Prince."

Bra's face flushed with wrath. Removing the Hello Kitty sack from over her shoulder, she unzipped it and removed a small portable DVD player with monitor. Goten watched as she expertly turned on the electronic gadget and started what appeared to be a home movie…

A small black cat winding itself through the ankles of brown loafer clad feet was all that could be seen. However in the background a conversation could be heard taking place.

"It's very simple to operate, Bra, just push the red record and point the camcorder. You can make your own movies or video whatever your heart desires."

The camcorder panned up to see the chibi aqua haired demi-saiyan Princess. "Smile Bra, you're on camera." Of course, the little ham beamed away at the camera while posing like a little primadonna.

"Arigatou, Grandpa," she squealed. She kissed her mother's father on his cheek. Dr. Briefs handed his granddaughter the gift that she happily accepted. "Okay, Grandpa. It's your turn to smile big." The ends of mustache turned upwards, one could only assume he was smiling since his facial hair covered his mouth.

"Have fun with your new toy, sweetheart. I should ought to head back to work now." He scooped up the black feline and returned to hole himself up in his private laboratory until sleep or hunger called him back to the light of day.

Camcorder in hand, she zoomed down the stairs to show her mother the new plaything her grandfather had given to her. Nearing the kitchen, she could hear her mother's loud giddy laughter. She lifted the eyepiece to her face and snuck to the entrance. She peeked inside the room to see Bulma, her mother, sitting in a barstool, snacking on Haagan Daz Coffee flavored ice cream from the pint while chatting away on the telephone.

"Oh my Kami, ChiChi, I have no idea what on Dende's green Chikyuu possessed him to do such a thing. He's just lucky Vegeta didn't find out about it." Laughter again could heard as she listened to her friend's reply. "True, true. It wasn't permanent. I still can't believe it though. That temporary henna tattoo covered the entire left cheek of his ass, ChiChi. A giant red heart with wings that spelled Bulma Forever. And to top it all off, it had doves, doilies, flowers and little stars. It looked like someone dumped a box of Lucky Charms cereal down his pants. He's definitely the son of Goku. Only a Son child would be able to fathom that up. That Goten is such a gooberhead!"…

Bra closed the portable DVD player, looked at Goten with folded arms and smirk in place. Her demeanor was worthy of the daughter of Vegeta.

"You know, Pappa really loves Momma…a lot. He acts like he doesn't sometimes, but I know different," she enlightened him. "Oh and don't even think about breaking my toy, I have more copies at home," she added for good measure.

Goten's jaw hit the floor. He looked disbelievingly at the child. This sweet, picture perfect, blue-eyed angel was blackmailing him.

As if addressing a two-year-old, Goten spoke, "Bra, it's not a nice thing to blackmail people," he told her trying to persuade her to alter her decision. This merely caused her to roll her eyes. Although she was a child, she did not being talked to like one. It was one of her biggest pet peeves. She was the daughter of a warrior prince and a super genius and thus, she acted as such.

"Pappa looks very kawaii when he goes super Saiyan level three, I love the hair. But, super Saiyan level four looks even more kawaii. He's even stronger than Gotenks in SSJ4 form."

Goten's overactive imagination began to play tricks on him. He envisioned a super Saiyan level four Vegeta pummeling the life out of him from here to the home for infinite losers. "You're just the idiot brat of a third class circus clown and harpy wench," he imagined Vegeta sneering. "You're not even good enough to breathe the same air as my woman, much less ink her name on your flesh."

Goten shuddered at the horrific reverie, which could very possibly turn into reality. If Bra indeed intended to inform Vegeta-sama of his indiscretions from six years prior when he was simply a hormone enraged fourteen-year-old then his life might as well be forfeit. Vegeta would kill him.

Left with no other feasible options, he gritted unwillingly through clenched teeth, "Fine Bra no Hime, you win. Tell me what her majesty wishes this humble servant to do."

"Nobody likes a smart ass, GO-TEN!" she snapped. "I'll tell you all about it on our way to the mall, I need to pick up a few things. Oh and fix that ugly mug of yours, keep on making that face and it's going to stay like that."

The princess and her reluctant subject walked down the street to Satan City's super deluxe tri level shopping mall.

TO BE CONTINUED…

Disclaimer: Not mine, nope, not mine at all. I do not own DBZ or Guns 'n' Roses, Sweet Child of Mine…*sniff, sniff*…

Chapter 7…Priceless

The art of shopping is by far one the most instinctual acts to a woman, young and old alike, closely followed by conversing for hours about nothing on Alexander Graham Bell's greatest invention ever, the telephone. This second nature could even be categorized as sport, for one must hunt those rare bargains and hard to come by items. Only a seasoned shopper could spend hours on end searching for that must have relic, knowing that one of a kind item must be purchased by any means possible, albeit cash, check, charge or the ever popular layaway. The thrill of the chase, to feel the adrenaline works its power, to feel the one's heart quicken to purchase the very last discontinued special item that just so happens to be marked down 75%. Yes, the joys of shopping.

The angelic aqua haired cherub rested her chin on the counter as she impatiently waited for the middle-aged clerk to total her purchases. Size three black Doc Martens boots…seventy-five zeni, children's size eight, stone washed, boot cut Levis…nineteen zeni, and one red adult size extra small shirt reading 'Girls Kick Ass'…eleven zeni.

Dende, could this cashier be any slower. There was a schedule to keep here, places to go, people to see, subjects to blackmail, and tails to kick. At this rate it'll take ten years to leave this shop.

The clerk "Cheryl" was apparently "in training"; at least that's what her nametag said. The woman fumbled with the purchases, she restarted the sale over thrice, looking up to coyly smile at Goten between mistakes.

"These are such grown-up clothes for a little girl like yourself," Cheryl, the clerk, told the pigtail wearing demi saiyan princess. Bra reacted to the comment by simply rolling her eyes and drumming her impatient petite fingers against the counter.

Clueless Cashier Cheryl did not pick up on Bra's edgy borderline hostile aura, so once again she attempted to converse with Bra. "You know," chided Clueless Cashier Cheryl, "there's a lot of germs on that counter, you really shouldn't rest your face there, hon."

The woman's incestuous chatter was starting to rattle the child's nerves. Why couldn't she just do her minimum wage job and sell her the outfit and be quiet. As if, she'd truly be concerned if she caught some stupid microorganism bacteria from the counter.

"Did you hear me honey, you shouldn't rest your head there," Clueless Cashier Cheryl disapprovingly expressed to Bra as she finally, correctly totaled the purchases.

Bra looked up at the sales clerk, speaking in a very annoyed tone, " 'Cheryl in training', look, I am a seven year old Saiyan/Chikyuu-jin hybrid. I don't get sick. I'll never have to worry about strep throat, measles, pneumonia, or the common cold and while you're rotting away, sitting in your own poop, at some government funded nursing home, I won't look a day over twenty one. So, why don't you stop pretending to care, shut you hole and sell me the clothes so I can get out of her!" The words smoothly left her mouth in one breath and were completed with a wickedly innocent smirk.

Goten stood by Bra's side the entire, mimicking his mother by pinching the bridge of his nose, hoping that this was not happening.

"Well, I never!" exclaimed berated Clueless Cashier Cheryl, while lifting her hand to her breast in complete astonishment.

"And you never will," informed Bra, she tossed two, hundred zeni bills across the germ infested counter to the clerk.

Clueless Cashier Cheryl in training turned to Goten and huffed, "She needs to learn some manners." This caused poor Goten to turn a bright shade of red. He muttered something under his breath, which sounded like a sorry and grabbed Bra and her purchases and left the store, while Bra giggled the entire time.

Once outside and several shops down, Goten gripped Bra's arm, scolding her, "B-chan, you need to behave yourself!"

Bra snatched her arm back, scowling at the youngest Son son, "She was being stupid!"

Once again, he pinched the bridge of his nose and took three deep, cleansing breaths, "That's besides the point. If you insist on being a princess, you need to act like one. Do you think that Princess Stephanie or Princess Diana would've acted like that? Or, what about Princess Jasmine from Aladdin or Ariel?" he tried reasoning with her.

"Goten, I'm a warrior princess. Do you think Jasmine or Ariel could throw a Ki blast or even a decent right hook," she said, glaring at him.

"But, B-chan, you can't manipulate Ki to even make a blast."

She levitated to his eye level, meeting his gaze with an expression that gave the phrase 'if looks could kill' a whole new meaning. "Sometimes, Goten, big things come in small packages."

He screwed his face at her comment, thinking on what she just admitted to him, or not. Reaching his hand behind his head, giving it a good scratch as she returned her feet to the floor. "Cryptic much, Bra. Now let's hear the decoded version."

She raised her index finger in the air, shaking it to and fro. "Just you wait, you'll see. But now it's time to do your princess's bidding. I need you to make sure that Trunks agrees to spar with you in exactly," she looked down at her watch, then back to Goten, "Mmm, in two hours at your usual sparring place, you know, that island. Wait for my signal after that and make sure Trunks finds me, but he can't know what were up to, agreed."

"I don't even know what were up to and what kind of signal are you talking about and how wil-"

"GOTEN!" she interrupted, ending his rambling, "You'll know when it happens, just follow my lead and when everything is over I'll get all the copies of Momma's phone call back to you and Pappa won't have to kill you, okay."

Goten looked at the scheming chibi princess skeptically. Sensing his unease, she lifted her fist in the air and extended her pinky finger to him, while beaming her sweetest most innocent smile. "Goten, I pinky swear. You can have every last copy back." He reluctantly accepted and hooked his pinky into hers and shook on it. "Now get out of her already," she commanded.

"Hai, Princess Bra," he chuckled as he left the super duper deluxe tri level mall, wondering what the heck he'd gotten himself into.

*~*~*~*~*~

Radiant blue eyes scanned over document after document, scribbling his John Hancock on those he deemed worthy and vetoing those he deemed not. The daily trials and tribulations of being Vice President of the most influential, sought after company in the entire world.

Trunks leaned back in his plush leather office chair, lifting his hands in the air as he stretched his tired arms. Yawning, he looked around the cramped confines of his corner, penthouse office casting his gaze out the huge ceiling to floor bay style windows. Cloudless blue skies painted his view, and at that exact moment in time he'd give anything to just be able to leap out the window and soar above the horizon like a falcon riding the wind, never looking back to the claustrophobic confines of his gilded cage.

A light rapping at the window startled him out of his reverie. On the other side of the glass prison floated Son Goten, his life long best friend and partner in crime. He ran his fingers through the lilac strands of hair that had fallen into his vision. Smiling, grateful for the company, he opened the window, granting Goten's entrance through the unlikely entryway.

"Hey stranger," joked Trunks as he stood, smoothing the front of his charcoal colored Armani slacks, "What brings you here?"

Making himself at home, Goten moseyed over to the refrigerator, which was discreetly hidden in the oak paneled wall. His ebony eyes roved over the various beverages, selecting sweetened iced tea, which he drank nonchalantly from the imported Czechoslovakian crystal pitcher. "I want to spar," he replied, setting the empty pitcher back into the icebox.

"I don't think that's a good idea, Goten, actually I think I should go take a nap or something. This nine to five work must be giving me cabin fever, because unless I'm hallucinating, I could've swore you inhaled all the sweet tea from my imported crystal carafe."

"Nope, no hallucinating, I'm guilty let's go," he walked back towards the window, motioning for Trunks to follow.

Trunks crossed his arms over his chest and planted his feet firmly on the floor, becoming slightly unnerved. "I hate to point out the obvious, GO-TEN, but I'm working."

"And," Goten smartly countered.

"I don't know what has gotten into you, but I'm about five seconds away from beating you bloody," he grinded through clenched teeth.

"As if you could, pencil pusher…" he paused, allowing the comment to sink in, "We're not ten anymore, Trunks and if you haven't noticed we Sons have always been stronger than you and yours."

Trunks stared at his friend in disbelief, what was his problem; he never acted this way, never. But if Goten craved a visit to the regeneration tank, then so be it, perhaps it might knock some sense into him.

Trunks removed his power tie and starched white shirt, tossing them both into his chair, leaving him in his slacks and white undershirt. He lunged at Goten, whom simply sidestepped his attempts and leapt backwards through the open. Trunks followed; hot on his heels as Goten flew towards the place Bra had commanded him to bring his unsuspecting compadre to. Goten's each and every thought was focused on sating his princess's wishes and getting all those damnable copies of that phone call. Trunks would forgive him, of that he was sure, but if Vegeta was to ever know then he might as well tuck his head between his knees and kiss his tail goodbye.

TO BE CONTINUED…

**Chones, pronounced choe-nez, is the Spanish slang for underwear**

Chapter 8…Children Live What They Learn

She's got a smile that it seems to me, reminds me of childhood memories where everything was as fresh as the bright blue sky. Now and then when I see her face she takes me away to that special place and if I stared too long I'd probably break down and cry. Sweet child o' mine, sweet love of mine.

In silence she donned the recent purchases in privacy of her bedroom. Blush walls and floral bedding accentuated the girlishness of the boudoir, along with the lace curtains and other frilly nonsensical knick-knacks, leaving no indication that it's adolescent resident could easily destroy the entire northern hemisphere with one misplaced temper tantrum.

Bra Briefs twisted this way and that, doing several small twirls before her image, admiring her reflection in the full-length mirror. The boot cut Levi jeans, the black leather lace up Doc Marten boots, and the red "girls kick ass" shirt, in her opinion made her look so much older than her meager seven years, at least eleven, she deduced.

She pulled the rubber bands from her aqua locks releasing the binding pigtails that had previously framed her cherub's face. Bra instead opted for one long plait, a braid, beginning from the nape of her neck and ending at the small of her back. Again, she modeled for the mirror, posing with fists raised, sneering at her reflection in her best intimidating manner, trying to duplicate her fathers ferocious battle stance, all the while psyching herself up for the battle to come.

A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts and a head full of upswept cornsilk hair popped into view through the cracked door. "Hi honeybun, come give Grandma some sugar," sung Chones Briefs in her natural giddy sing-song voice, to her only granddaughter as she entered the room, stepping over a menagerie of action figures and pricey Capsule Corporation gadgets.

"Grandma!" she squealed, "What are you doing here? I thought you and Grandpa were in Italy," Bra gleefully asked while skipping to her grandmother, nearly tackling her in a bear hug embrace.

"Oi, B-chan," she managed to get out whilst Bra lovingly squeezed the air from her lungs, turning her face a radiant hue of red, "I'm not as young as I use to be, gentler hon." Bra loosened the hug and beamed radiantly at Chones Briefs.

"I missed you so much, Grandma," Bra confessed, as the pair left the child's room, heading down the stairs, "your cooking too, you should move back in with us," she added.

Chones giggled at the child's confession, she very much enjoyed traveling the world and visiting exotic locations, but home is where the heart is and she missed her family terribly. "Well, you're in luck, I decided to cook tonight. How about some steak, rice and vegetables."

Bra grimaced at the vegetables part as they entered the huge kitchen, "Mmm, I love your steak, but do we have to have vegetables?" She turned big blue puppy eyes towards Mrs. Briefs in attempts to alter the evening's menu. This only caused another eruption of giggles from the aging blonde.

Mrs. Briefs began removing several packages of porterhouse steaks from the refrigerator and setting them on the counter, "When was the last time you ate your veggies young lady and ketchup doesn't count?" she questioned Bra, raising one eyebrow in a surprisingly serious manner. Bra shrugged her shoulders while picking at the plastic covering of one of the several steaks packages, she honestly could not recall the last time she ate her greens, and since ketchup was no longer in the vegetable group, she was actually rendered speechless. "Double helpings for you then."

"Grandma," she whined, the steak was now open and Bra began nibbling on the raw meat like it was candy, while Chones sifted through the icebox's contents. She hefted three large heads of cabbage, placing them on the counter with the other items.

"B-chan! What have I told you about that? You're going to spoil your appetite, Kami, you're worse than your father with snacking on uncooked meat," she chided the demi saiyan child, though making no advances to take the steak from her.

She laughed at her grandmother's attempt to discipline her. "I'll take that as a compliment, Grandma," and with that the child took her prize and of raw beef and beelined it for the front door.

Vegeta watched as his only daughter leapt into the air, taking flight to some unknown destination. Bra had learned to manipulate Ki, in his opinion, rather quickly, but then again he was an excellent sensei and she was after all, a princess of the royal house of Vegeta-sei and a super saiyan no less. How naturally his children found the legendary transformation completely baffled him. Memories of blood, sweat, tears, and humiliation at the hands of tyrannical foster parent, Freeza, surfaced in his thoughts along with the briefest tinge of envy at the effortlessness this new generation of saiyan brats realized their power to become the golden warrior of ancient Saiyan lore. If only he too had been graced with the knowledge to ascend at the same tender age as his offspring, then perhaps he might've been able to save his people and become the great king he was destined to be, but the past is in the past and no amount of want could undo this reality, but alas he could not fathom a life without his beloved mate nor his children and had fate granted him his destiny then he was sure it would have been an empty life. Truth be told, he was nothing without her, without them. He'd sacrifice himself a thousand times over to Cell or to Buu or to any other entity that so much as threatened them, for they were his heart, his soul, his very being although he'd be damned to ever speak these things aloud to another living soul, much less to her, to them. But she knew, she must know. However his less than pleasant reverie was interrupted as he heard his lovely mate yell his name from across the yard.

"Ve-Ge-Ta!" The three-syllable word tore from her lips and seemed to echo all around him. Bulma walked across the yard meeting him at the gravity room's entrance. "Your son," she growled through clenched teeth, hands on hips, "decided to play hooky this afternoon from work, again," emphasizing the word 'again'. Kami, she was beautiful when angered.

"He is your 'employee', deal with it," Vegeta informed Bulma in his holier than thou voice, looking down his nose at her. He watched her anger level rise, literally, flushing her cheeks ruby red and igniting a cold fire in her azure eyes. He lived to bait her into verbal sparring matches, her beauty increased tenfold when rage touched her emotions.

Vegeta turned his shirtless, chiseled back to her, to reenter the gravity training room. "Oh, no you don't," she grabbed his forearm and turned him to face her, which only happened because he allowed it to. "Find him," Bulma ordered, "or I'll start rationing out your evening fun." Bulma crossed her arms in triumph over her bosom; there was no way her insatiable husband would refuse.

He turned his ebony gaze upon his devious wife…his mate. So, she wants to fight dirty and hit below the belt, well then, two can play this game. "Woman, abstaining from you will not break me, I have other methods of channeling my energy, have you forgotten that I am Saiyan, a Prince no less. However, I find your threats empty. As if, you would deprive yourself our evening fun." He watched her expressions change from victor to defeated, like an open book, then watched the cogs turn in her mind as she improvised other means to have her desires met.

"Touché, I admit you got me there…But-I'm sure shadowboxing in the gravity room becomes monotonous after awhile." She circled around his sweat glistening body, stopping behind him to whisper in his ear, tickling it with her warm breath, "Wouldn't you rather have a live punching bag…I mean sparring partner instead," trying to appeal to his Saiyan nature. "Find our son, Vegeta," she gently began placing butterfly kisses along the back of his neck, tasting the salt of his skin.

"Persistent wench, continue this and you'll find yourself on the gravity room's floor as my sparring partner." Vegeta swiftly turned to face Bulma, plundering her mouth in a hard, long kiss. "Manipulative onna."

"As if you'd have me any other way," she breathlessly answered.

He closed his eyes in concentration, lifting his head towards the heavens, focusing on his son's Ki signature. "He is fighting with the youngest son of Kakkarot."

"Grrr, that little slacker, bring him here so I can deal with him and then…" Bulma's entire demeanor changed as she gave her husband one of her sultriest looks, "I'll deal with you." Vegeta smirked at the idea of christening the gravity room with his lusty mate as he blasted into the sky in search of Trunks, Capsule Corporation's very own Jr. Vice President.

~*~*~*~

The ongoing battle between Trunks Briefs and Son Goten commenced on the deserted isle. The pairs' fighting was becoming more intense with each thrown punch and volleyed energy blast. The lavender haired Adonis was swiftly gaining the upper hand while Goten's thoughts bounced between dodging attacks and pleasing his princess, for his life depended on having every last piece of blackmail footage in his possession so that it could properly disposed of.

Trunks' size thirteen black dress shoe slammed into Goten's chin via roundhouse, sending the younger of the two plummeting into the rock formation a hundred yards below. Goten began dislodging himself from the man sized crater but before he was even half way out Trunks hurtled another Ki blast right in his direction. Goten powered up to super saiyan and flared his Ki, turning the binding rock to dust. At this level, Trunks blast did no damage so he powered up to SSJ as well, throwing another blast at his lifelong best friend, aiming strait at the spot between his eyes. Goten deflected the blast, suddenly regretting his methods of luring Trunks away from the office, perhaps he had went a little too far. It seemed that his choice words to Trunks must have invoked some sort of vendetta chasing lunatic that would only be appeased by Son blood.

'Mental note,' Goten thought to himself, 'never inform the Vegeta family that the Son family is better than they are, well, at least not to their face.' Goten scanned the horizon, searching out for chibi Bra's sign, but he felt nothing.

Trunks right fist connected with Goten's jaw spraying Trunks' white undershirt with droplets of Goten's crimson blood. "Fight me, Sissy boy! You talk so much shit, your mouth might as well be an asshole, too bad you can't back any of it up!"

Goten retaliated with a flurry of punches and a powerful kick to Trunks' midsection. The force of the kick sent Trunks soaring backwards, only to be met with Goten's elbow to the back of his head as he phased in right behind him sending Trunks to the hard earth below. Trunks stood, fighting to regain his equilibrium, when he felt it. That odd Ki, it had returned. Why here? Why now? The unanswered questions would have to wait as he turned towards this new energy. A gold Ki shield was the only thing he saw as a black boot collided with his cheek, sending him plowing backwards into a tree, followed by a massive Ki blast, which disintegrated his tattered undershirt to nothing. Trunks forced the stars away from his eyes, rising to his feet in search of the license plate of that truck. Then he saw her as she descended from the heavens touching down right before him like a childlike goddess, a golden cherub. Her aura surrounded her entire petite frame in a golden halo of luminescence, one long platinum blonde braid floated around her form, serpent like, as if it were alive and spiked blonde bangs framed her glowing face and lusterless teal eyes. She was a Super Saiyan?

"So brother, do you still think I'm a weakling?" her tiny voice maliciously asked, as she took the steps necessary to close the small gap between them.

"Bra?" asked Trunks in utter shock, he had had no idea his kid sister was capable of these feats and was oblivious as to why she was so angry with him. Goten touched down besides his Princess, guilt written across his face as he avoided eye contact with his best friend.

Turning to her faithful vassal, she spoke, "You can go now. The package, as promised, is under your bed. Thanks for your help, Goten."

Trunks blanched with the realization that his sister and best friend were in cahoots and all this was some sort of mysterious ploy to get him here so that they could do only Kami knows what to him. What on Chikyuu did I do to deserve this? "Goten, you're a bastard and when I get my hands on you, you'll be a eunuch too," Trunks threatened his backstabbing friend.

Goten shuddered at the thought of castration by means of Trunks sword. Of course, he'd angered Trunks several times and several times he'd been forgiven and vice versa, but this time there was something etched in the tone of his voice that made him believe that this threat was not empty, that and the fact that one just does not jest about Bobbit-ing the family jewels. "I'm sorry, dude. I really am, but lil' B-chan made me do it," and with that Son Goten headed home at tops speeds to his room to retrieve and destroy the package before his mother got any bright ideas to clean his room.

"Bra, why don't you power down and explain to your big bro' what's bothering you," Trunks attempted to calmly rationalize with the child before urges to put her over his knee and spank some sense into her overwhelmed him. Bra answered by sweeping his feet out from under him in a lightning fast move and sticking her tongue out at him as he unceremoniously sat on the ground.

"You told me I was a weakling and I couldn't go with you and Goten to spar and I told Poppa on you and he said he would teach me how to make you eat your words and I've been working hard to be strong and you are so in trouble," she screamed at him, voice full of conviction. Trunks searched his thoughts for any memories that could have unknowingly caused her to feel so spurned. He would have never purposely said anything remotely close to what she was accusing him off, never. But, his thoughts did drift to an event several weeks prior. It could be the only incident she was referring to…

"Trunks, I want to go with you and Goten, please." She asked, looking up to him with big blue eyes, so much like his own.

"You can't, B. You need to stay here, you're not strong enough to come and you might get hurt. Maybe when you learn to fly, but not today." His tone was firm, though to a child it might sound sharp.

"I just want to watch," Bra pleaded.

"Not this time, it's my day off. Your not strong enough to come anyway, stay home, we'll do something together another day," he told her, leaving no room for argument as he left with Goten to their favorite sparring place.

"I'm not a weakling," she said aloud; hurt and crushed by her big brother's callous abandonment. And then in that instant a plan unfurled in her mind to prove him wrong and to make him eat his words…

He remembered.

Vegeta sat out of sight watching the exchange between his two children. Pride swelled in his chest at the raw power that chibi Bra possessed and at how coolly Trunks tried diffusing the ticking bomb known as Bra Briefs.

Trunks rose from his seat on the ground, while Bra crouched into battle stance. Striking like a venomous snake, she attacked him throwing a complicated series of kicks and punches. Also powering up to Super Saiyan, Trunks blocked the majority of the blows, then she withdrew, reemerging fifteen feet away. "B-chan," he spoke, barely above a whisper, "I had no idea. My intentions were never to hurt you, only to keep you safe. I'm sorry."

He took a step towards the pint size princess, arms open to embrace the distraught child, but with each step he advanced, she retreated, the gap between them never closing. "You lie," she said in the most intimidating voice she could muster, although it slightly wavered, "sometimes, sorry doesn't help."

Her energy crackled to life around her and within the blink of an eye she launched herself at the older demi saiyan, wanting nothing more than for him share in her pain, albeit physically, but the festering wound known as her pride demanded retribution for the ill spoken words that he so insensitively bestowed upon her. She attacked again right hook, left uppercut, and roundhouse. He blocked each deadly hit then blasted into the sky in attempts to slow the relentless child down. Bra followed aiming ki blast after ki blast, though Trunks was able to dodge each one successfully. The lethal game of cat and mouse afoot; they zoomed past clouds in an endless waltz. He sensed the miniscule drops in her Ki, she was finally beginning to fatigue. Taking advantage of this new revelation, he turned the tables by maximizing his power level and phasing in behind her. Trunks wrapped his powerful arms around her in an unbreakable grip.

"Bra…Bra," he spoke soothingly into her ear. "Calm down. I love you. I'm sorry." She thrashed about against him. "I apologize for upsetting you, I'll never hurt you again. I love you." Her struggles lessened and finally ceased. Trunks turned Bra to face him and was heartbroken to see the fresh tears spilling from her eyes.

"I just wanted to go with you and Goten," she sobbed, little breaths hitched in her throat, "I'm not weak, I'm strong, strong like you and Pappa."

"Yes, you're very strong. You almost kicked my butt there, Miss. Thang." He tickled her midsection and was rewarded with fit of laughter. "So, are you still mad at me, B-chan?" He asked smiling at her, in his best Son imitation. Bra scowled at him, then she replaced it with a grin, but still didn't reply. "C'mon, B, don't be mad…we can't have my new sparring partner angry with me now, ne?"

"Sparring partner?" she eyed him suspiciously.

"Hai, so what are your plans this weekend?" Trunks asked as they touched down.

"She spar's with me," came the raspy voice of their father from out of nowhere. "Be in the gravity room forty five minutes early tomorrow morning, your aim needs improvement. And you," Vegeta began, turning to Trunks, "have earned your mother's wrath as well, she requires your immediate presence."

"Kuso! I'm going to kill Goten," Trunks cursed under his breath, "Bra, whenever you want to spar, I'm here." He blasted off into the sky, heading home, in attempts to diffuse the second time bomb of the day, Bulma.

"Tell me about this package and how you persuaded Goten to help you," Vegeta asked his daughter.

"It was nothing Poppa, just a movie that Goten wanted really, really bad." she told him the half truth, then quickly changed the subject, "Guess what? Grandma's at home and she's grilling us steak for dinner," she beamed at her father. "It's probably done too. I'll race you home." Bra darted into the air, leaving behind a trail of energy and her father.

He watched Bra fly away in the direction of their home. His daughter, his princess, his pride & joy had overcome unfathomable obstacles in only a few short weeks proving herself worthy in every aspect possible. She was his little warrior princess, his destroyer of gravity rooms, his Super Saiyan, his sweet child... as he reflected on the past weeks she was probably eating all the barbeque and with that last thought the Saiyan Prince took to the skies, flying home as quickly as his Ki would allow.

Children Learn What They Live

If a child lives with criticism, she learns to condemn.
If a child lives with hostility, he learns to fight.
If a child lives with ridicule, she learns to be shy.
If a child lives with shame, he learns to feel guilty.
If a child lives with tolerance, she learns to be patient.
If a child lives with encouragement, he learns confidence.
If a child lives with praise, she learns to appreciate.
If a child lives with fairness, he learns justice.
If a child lives with security, she learns to have faith.
If a child lives with approval, he learns to like himself.
If a child lives with acceptance and friendship, she learns to find Love in the world.

Dorothy Law Nolte

~The End~

Author's notes: Let me know your opinion on this story, leave a review, I enjoy the feedback, Thanks! Also, I found myself trying my hand at a little art; visit my interpretation of Chibi Bra here…

http://www.mediaminer.org/fanart/view.php?id=23772

~Ember Maxximus