Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ The Cousin ❯ Taking to the Air ( Chapter 4 )

Disclaimer: I do not own or claim to own Dragon Ball Z or any of its characters. This fiction is purely for enjoyment and I do not make a profit off of it. All original plots and characters © ErieDragon 2002.

Author's Note: I had trouble proofreading my last chapter, because I had ice cream before bed and then my dad gave me melatonin, so my eyes were like lead weights but I was so doped on caffeine that I was spasming. After that insane run-on sentence, I'm going to inform everybody that I may either 1. be making my chapters shorter or 2. extending the deadline. I'm just getting very pressed for time, although school is coming to an end soon. I really need reviews to keep me going, so far it's only my dedicated pal Vegeta's Gyal's encouragement that fuels me (and a few other awesome people who will be mentioned at the end ;). If this chapter comes out late, all you can do is blame yourselves..

Chapter 4

Taking to the Air

~*~

Ona decided to fly back rather than sit on the verge of death in a car with that crazy woman. She thought about her brief conversation with Goku and sighed, coming to a stop to float in midair above the forest. Train. That's all she should focus on is to train. Her own prince would teach her, a powerful boy from the future would test her, and all she had to do was work. Fair.

After less than an hour of lazy flying, she descended on the Capsule Corp. compound. The GR was on, but as soon as Ona came low enough, the simulation was turned off and Vegeta stepped out, eyeing her.

"How did it go?" He asked in a low, menacing tone. Ona merely sighed and walked towards the ship's open door.

"Fine. He weaseled it out of me," she replied, flopping on the tile floor of the gravity room. She propped herself up on her elbows and watched him come in, a quizzical expression on his face. "I can't believe I had to go alone. Your insane girlfriend almost KILLED me!" Ona scolded, covering her eyes in annoyance. A shocked expression crossed Vegeta's face.

"MY GIRLFRIEND?!" He hollered, grabbing Ona by the collar of her robe. Her eyes widened as she was brought face-to-face with the fuming prince. "I HATE the woman JUST AS MUCH AS YOU DO, AND MORE! Don't ever suggest that AGAIN!" Vegeta practically screamed in her face, causing the teenager to wince. She glared back at him with equal ferocity, hoping to mask the fright in her expression. His scowl softened slightly and he released her, sending the appalled Ona into a heap on the floor of the GR. Vegeta turned and walked off, muttering something about grabbing a bite to eat.

~*~

"Vegeta." A pause. "VEGETA!" His eyes snapped open, seeing a frustrated blue face above him. Shocked, he leaped to his feet in an automatic fighting stance, glaring menacingly at the woman before him.

Bulma put her hands on her hips, watching Vegeta pant like a rabid animal. He soon calmed down, realizing that he wasn't being attacked.

"What the HELL do you WANT?!" He cried, recovering enough to wipe sweat from his brow. Bulma chuckled.

"Aren't you spastic. Where's Ona? She took off from Goku's, and I haven't seen her since. She left her robe here and took some of my clothes," Bulma informed him, raising an eyebrow quizzically. Vegeta's eyes widened in surprise.

"She's gone?" He asked, a concerned tone entering his voice briefly. He soon recovered and crossed his arms, regaining his snobby composure. "I don't care. It's not my problem." Bulma snorted.

"Yeah. Okay. Just thought you might care to know that a good portion of the Southern Capital is missing," she said, shrugging and walking out of the room. Suddenly, a hand landed on her shoulder and spun her around.

"WHAT?!" Vegeta cried into her face, her hair flying in the wind. She chuckled.

"You heard me. The media is blaming an "alien who shoots rockets from its hands!"" Bulma informed him, turning and walking down the stairs. Vegeta stared ahead absent-mindedly, his cheek twitching.

"Then what do you propose we do?" Bulma stopped her descent and turned, smirking.

"Perhaps you can talk some sense into her."

~*~

You idiot. Brat, where ARE you?! Vegeta snarled to himself, flying in no particular direction. Energy signatures were popping up in tiny specks all around him, and he couldn't lock on Ona's own power. He sighed, slowing down and glancing in every direction. Suddenly, his keen Saiyan eyesight caught glimpse of a small, white speck. Energy radiated from it...

"There you are!" Vegeta cried, taking off towards it.

Ona scowled, firing absently into the countryside. Various cliffs exploded, sending heaps of rock and debris sailing through the air. This wasn't nearly as exciting as destroying cities, but she realized that the deaths of innocent people might just send one of the other Saiyans currently residing on the planet over the edge. So, instead, she hacked Bulma's computer and eventually broadcasted a warning to her intended site of destruction. The place was completely evacuated when Ona arrived on a bloodlust.

She floated in the air, one hand supporting her chin as she shot pathetic blasts into the ocean. Tidal waves sopped the small desert island, which resided just off the main coast. Tanjua was still at Capsule Corp., where Ona had instructed him to stay. The San's worried expression was no consolation for her actions, and she eventually circled to the ground and landed on a heap of upturned dirt. Ona still wasn't sure why she had taken on such foolish actions, but she didn't particularly care at this point. Her Prince had given her a verbal beating that was good enough to render their deal off. If she couldn't get training from him, she'd have to train herself. Yeah, randomly destroying civilization was training. Her mother would have totally agreed with that. Ona shrugged this thought off, returning to the bleakness that she had taught herself through meditation and mind manipulation.

Suddenly, a large, powerful hand gripped her shoulder. Ona jumped in surprise, but was smashed father into the earth by the authoritative weight, a squeak barely escaping her jammed lips.

"What. The. HELL?!" Vegeta hollered, pulling her up by the shoulder and slamming her into a nearby boulder. Ona sunk to the ground, rubbing the back of her head as she attempted to regain her frame of mind.

Who.. wha? Where? How..? She quickly recovered from her mental disbandment and stood up, dusting off her rump. She'd be sore for days. Ona glared at him and strode across the dirt, coming right up to his chest. Vegeta's eyebrows shot up in surprise, but he didn't budge an inch. Arms crossed, he glared right back at her.

"What do you want?!" Ona demanded, grimacing as she stared thickly at him.

"To find out what in hell you think you're doing!" He responded. Suddenly, she went toppling sideways as the back of a powerful hand slammed into her cheek. Rubbing her face, Ona glared at him with fire in her eyes. Without saying a word, she walked right back over to Vegeta and shot him an evil look once more.

She has almost as much guts as that obnoxious woman, he thought to himself as Ona cast him a nasty stare. Suddenly, his face was jerked sideways as her hand collided with his cheekbone. Vegeta's head snapped back, his eyes wide in pure anger, his fists clenching, his body trembling from rage. Ona took a step back, watching the expression on his face.

Oops, she thought as she began to back away slowly, turning on her heels and running. She was instantly brought down by a massive force, which impacted her body into the cracked, sandy earth. Ona attempted to recover, but was quickly hauled up by her collar once more. She merely grinned in a moronic, ready-to-pass-out fashion, then collapsed as a hand collided with her head.

~*~

"She's waking up!" An excited, high pitch voice squealed. Ona gradually opened her eyes, peering around. Total deja vu; the world around her was blurry, and only focused to reveal a mass of blue hair. She opened her eyes fully, trying to jump back in shock, but soon discovered she was restrained.

"Wh-wh-where am I?" Ona inquired in a hoarse, groggy voice. Bulma smiled and offered her a drink of water, which the famished Saiyan gladly accepted.

"Well, Vegeta brought you back here. You got pounded pretty bad.. What happened?" She asked, returning the empty glass to a small table. Ona snarled at her naivety.

"VEGETA'S what happened!" She cried, then squirmed in pain at the sudden movement. Ona collapsed against her bed and sighed, rubbing her forehead.

"Whoa, don't move. What do you mean?" Bulma inquired, lifting a small ice pack and placing it on her head. Ona squeezed her eyes in pain at the contact, but made no further sound.

"He came and pummeled me," she replied, her voice cracking at a mere whisper. The aqua-haired woman's eyebrows shot up in surprise, and she sat down on a small stool just beside the bed. They were in Ona's guest room once more, but there were fewer IVs this time.

"What do you mean?!" Bulma cried, sitting back in her seat. Ona sighed.

"He beat the shit out of me, that's what. I have a headache, can you leave please?" She requested, turning on her side so Bulma was merely faced with her back. The blue-haired woman shook her head and stood up, leaving the room. She turned down the hall, and saw a wisp of black hair disappearing down the hall. Bulma snickered and walked into the kitchen, where Vegeta was now eating nonchalantly. Faker.

"What did you do to her?" She asked, descending down the stairs. Vegeta's head whipped up in surprise, then aimed back towards his food.

"What are you talking about, woman?" He responded gruffly, stuffing a piece of burnt toast into his mouth. Bulma snickered.

"Don't play stupid with me. One of the strongest fighters in the world doesn't leave the house one day on a rampage and get the crap beaten out of them," she said, sneering. Vegeta growled back.

"Shutup, woman." With that, he ditched whatever food he had left and stormed out the door. Bulma sat back and sighed, massaging her temples. She was beginning to realize sticking two powerful, arrogant Saiyans in one household was not done for a reason.

Vegeta immediately took off, powering his energy below him to rise high into the sky. He followed the city with his eyes, searching for a decent place to catch a meal. Why had Ona gone off like that? He didn't care for rationalities, barely pausing to consider the fact he had smashed her into the wall of the GR. Vegeta's blood boiled as he soared into downtown, spotting a nice cafe. He was fuming from the incidents at Capsule Corp., and the addition of Ona being horribly bedridden thanks to him was not adding to his sanity any.

~*~

Ona paced, glancing at her watch and back. Second time, and he was late again. But, it was exactly a month, so any time during the day was "on time." Training had been completely unsuccessful, and she was almost looking forward to getting the shit beaten out of her. A good portion of the last month had dragged past, where she had left Capsule Corp. for the most part. She shuddered, thinking about the evil look she had received from Vegeta when she took off. It had been the middle of the night, and he was outside on the roof stargazing, as usual.

"Where are you off to in such a damn hurry?" He asked snidely. Ona smirked back with equal enthusiasm.

"None of your business," she replied, powering up and hightailing it before he could even dream of catching up with her.

Ona was lost in her thoughts as a large, metal mass appeared in the air above her. It descended, the thrusting engines kicking up enough dust to overt the concentrated Saiyan's attention. Her stomach churned, filling with butterflies at her upcoming fate. That sword in itself was enough, and at this point, she wasn't the bravest. Ona jumped back, allowing the ship room to land. It went against her Saiyan pride to refuse a fight, so she would just have to deal with the blow as it came.

The machine settled on the ground, sending up flocks of dust and sand as three legs landed lightly on the desert's cracked, barren surface. The glass window slid up, revealing a positively glowing, thickly tanned face. Trunks leaped from the vehicle, landing gracefully on one foot.

"Well, hello! I made it!" He said, seeming to be talking to himself for the latter part of his greeting. Ona merely raised an eyebrow and approached him, noticing his eye scanning her properly-clothed body with disappointment.

"This is all I could find," she said, anticipating his question before he had a chance to ask it. Trunks shrugged and grinned shyly, leaning against his capsule.

"Are you ready this time?" He asked, cocking a lavender eyebrow. Ona snickered nervously.

"Yeah.." She stood up, getting into a feeble fighting stance. Trunks did the same, and grinned. He lunged instantly, bombarding her with a series of lightning fast blows. Ona only managed to dodge a few before a massive punch connected with her shoulder. She swung sideways, the pure force disrupting her force of gravity.

Trunks did a quick-footed, half-step backwards as she recovered, recomposing herself. He smirked and pulled off his jacket, tossing the purple-vest/sword combo onto the ground behind him. Ona raised an eyebrow as she leaned, her shoulder hanging unnaturally at her side. She reached over and dug her fingers into the joint, issuing a jerk. It was followed by a loud POP!, causing Trunks' eyes to widen in surprise. Ona snickered and raised her fists into a more confident stance, her bare feet gripping the cracked wedges of dirt beneath her.

She launched a sudden attack, bringing her fist into Trunks' side. He leaped backwards, but too late; although she landed the blow, it didn't seem to cause him much consternation. Ona grimaced and reversed, regaining a good deal of distance between them. She put one hand in the air beside her as she focused her energy into it, her palm forming a small cup shape. Trunks stepped back up from his diminished position, watching with interest as her power began to rise significantly. A small breeze rippled the calm air, causing a defiant, wicked smirk to cross Ona's face as a lock of her opponent's purple hair blew into his face.

Wiping the distraction from his eye, Trunks realized how true this was when he saw a small ball of thick energy soaring towards him at an alarming rate. Her grin widened as the blast hit him head on, knocking the purple-haired boy into the ground at least twenty yards away. He got up instantly, of course, but depriving him of his foothold was enough for her. Ona stepped back, dropping her fighting stance and resting her arms at her sides. Trunks ran back, skidding to a halt in front of the over-confident, forest colored Saiyan. Her tail had freed itself from its resting spot about her petite waist, and was now waving lazily in the moderate breeze.

"What are you doing? This isn't over yet," Trunks demanded, his adrenaline barely getting going at this point. Ona raised one thick eyebrow and leaned back against a boulder.

"Of course it's over. You will most likely beat me, but I got a decent enough hit in that I can keep some dignity. That's important to a select few of us, you know," she responded sharply, burying her hands in her pockets. She wore casual pants, which looked like they belonged in a gi ensemble, excluding the convenient pockets and zippers. A light, breathable tank top hung from her lean, yet powerful frame. Ona smirked as Trunks issued her a shocked expression.

"What do you mean? You had something going on me," he added, attempting to rekindle her need to fight him.

"No. I didn't get a chance to train. That was merely a lucky shot," Ona replied, tapping her fingers impatiently, her arms crossed.

"What do you mean, you didn't get to train? I would think under my father's instruction, you'd be working your ass off every day of the week," Trunks retorted, smirking. She didn't appear amused.

"Something came up. I left Capsule Corp. a few weeks ago," Ona confided, referring to her outfit with one hand. "I managed to borrow this from the Sons." Trunks cocked one eyebrow.

"I see. Anything to do with Vegeta?" He pried, causing Ona to snort and turn, her arms crossed.

"Yeah, what of it? I can take care of myself, ya know," she said, lowering her eyes. Trunks shifted uncomfortably and picked up his vest, slinging the sword over his shoulder.

"I'm sure you can. What was that attack you used? Knocked the wind outta me," he asked, changing the subject. Ona raised an eyebrow.

"It doesn't really have a name. Just 'the birdie.' My pa.. someone taught it to me," she responded, leaning against the huge rock she had adopted as her chair.

"Ah.." Trunks tilted his head and peered at her, as if trying to place her face. It seemed oddly familiar, but had a hint of peculiarity. "Who are you, exactly?" He inquired, his face suddenly becoming domineering. Basically, he was insisting she answer truthfully and correctly, which she wasn't sure she could do. Ona snorted and tore her gaze from his, freeing herself from his officious expression.

"I don't know what you want me to say," she lied, digging her toe into the ground. Trunks smirked and leaned back, turning around to reach past the rock he was leaning against. He pushed the small, red button on the time machine's outer shell, which caused the whole thing to go up into a cloud of smoke. Trunks picked up the small capsule and grinned, setting it in his pocket. Ona watched with mild curiosity, and he soon turned back to face her.

"Who are your parents, then? That specific enough?" He questioned snidely, leaning with one hand tucked in his back pocket. "You're a pure Saiyan, I can tell that much. Half breeds don't show up in Saiya-jin space pods." Ona merely sighed and stared at the ground, which had suddenly become quite interesting. She'd already told too many people, one of which she was not on good terms with, the other she was not sure of. He really didn't have a reason for telling, and she had never gotten around to making him promise. Promise not to breathe a word of it, anyway. Maybe, if her luck ran well, he wouldn't be dimwitted enough to make her mad.

"That's extremely unimportant. The Gaijins are my parents.. Parents are those you've grown up with, correct?" Ona responded, grinning inwardly at her cleverness. Trunks merely sighed and shook his head.

"Not exactly. Vegeta's my father, but I didn't grow up with him," he confided. A weak, amber light had advanced onto the desert, bathing the taller man before her in a strange, rosy glow. His intense, lavender hair became inadvertently a deep red. Ona turned away and sighed. She had a secret of his that could mean the difference between his existence and naught; perhaps he had the same right? She greatly doubted it, for she had already committed her condemnation to two more than she should have.

"You wouldn't even know my parents, so what's the point? They're Saiyan, that much should be obvious," Ona said, hoping her clever word maneuver could outmatch his talent at math. Trunks smirked.

"How old are you?" He asked mysteriously, getting up and walking closer. She shifted, feeling uncomfortable at his approach.

"Uh.. Fifteen summers," Ona replied, digging her fingers into the rock she leaned on.

"Vegeta-sei was destroyed long before that. My father knew all the Saiyans who remained living, beside yourself.." Here Trunks paused, considering a small fact. If they didn't know her, perhaps they didn't know her parents either. Oh well, he thought. Hopefully she won't call my bluff. "And all of them were unlucky enough to show up on Earth. My mother took the liberty of telling me all her past adventures," he informed her, snickering at the last. Ona merely responded with a snort.

"I see. If you're anything like that knucklehead Kakarot, you'll use the process of elimination," she suggested, realizing her error at the last second. She slapped herself mentally and sighed, leaning back. Trunks merely grinned and assumed a thoughtful posture, gazing up at the deep orange sky. The sun was craning to dip below the cliff-dotted horizon, the night ready to descend upon them.

Trunks opened his mouth to respond, but Ona quickly snapped a silencing finger up and turned.

"It's way too late. I have to go, now," she said harshly, glancing around with unease at the rising night. Trunks took a few glances around, then nodded in understanding.

"One month?"

"One month." And with that, she took off, leaving Trunks in a daze that followed her bright, white trail.

~*~

"Where. Have. You. Been?!" Ona couldn't quite decipher whether this was a brutally loud scolding or a question, so she merely glared in response.

"Vegeta, calm down," came the voice of reason. Bulma pushed the prince out of her way, earning a shocked expression from both Saiyans. Somehow, she didn't get a retort from either of them.

"That's none of your damn business," Ona responded to Vegeta, crossing her arms and turning her head. He growled and stuck his nose out, turning his head as well. Bulma let out a defeated sigh and leaned against the wall, glaring at the two.

Ona had arrived at midnight, an action noticed in silence by Vegeta as he kept his nighttime vigil. She had slipped into the building, taking up residence in her guest room as if she had never left. She was loathe to return for this very reason, but she had lost all means of getting food, clothing, or even company besides her brief visit with Trunks. This constituted a very bored, lonely Saiyan, which tended to be a rather uncanny combination. But, of course, Ona's means of returning without a disturbance was shattered when Vegeta snatched her out of her room at six in the morning, and caused enough racket to bring everyone in the sleeping house outside. They stood in the hallway, where the early morning light was seeping across the walls, but the dim lamp-effect had driven Bulma to finally switch on the fluorescents. These seemed to bother Saiyans, but the strange light subdued them at the same time.

Vegeta fumed, establishing himself as such. First, she left after making a horribly rude mistake, then came back when she couldn't stand up to me, then left again! When she couldn't be any more confusing and stupid, she returns, AGAIN!? This is getting horribly repetitive! Vegeta snarled to himself, glaring at the stone-faced Ona. She responded in a similar manner, crossing her arms and suddenly spinning on her heels. The teenager stomped down the stairs, Vegeta cocking an eyebrow as the glass door opened and slammed. Bulma watched him, then followed a similar, but slightly quieter trans.

"Ona?" She asked quietly, peering through the still early morning light. Bulma squinted against the fluorescent rising sun, peering around the edge of Capsule Corp.'s whitewashed outer wall. Leaning against it was a positively furious looking figure, arms crossed, black-green hair in a flurry. She had her eyes closed, her face plastered towards the horizon. Bulma was about to approach her before she heard a deep, quiet growl. Sitting at Ona's side was her enormous dog, its slit-like, coal black eyes cold and unforgiving. His ears were flat against his head, and his tail was pinned protectively around his mistress' closest leg. She had one hand resting on the large animal's furry head, from which a long, black mane hung. Tanjua was not one to mess around with, this right was obviously reserved to Ona and only Ona. The beast would even snarl if Vegeta came close while the San was around. Apparently, the creature was native to Ona's previous resident planet, but had become attached to her. Bulma shrugged and looked at the large, protective dog, not yet gaining the attention of his master.

"What do you want." Ona said, more than asked. She turned, opening one dark, onyx-emerald eye. Bulma stopped herself from jumping back in shock at the expression's intensity.

"Don't mind Vegeta. But I am curious where you've been... No one holds a grudge here," she assured her, looking at the San for permission to come closer. Tanjua merely stood up and paced a few steps away, then collapsed in a heap beneath a tree. Bulma leaned against the building next to Ona, earning a heavy sigh.

"I don't care about Vegeta. I don't care what anyone else thinks about me, but if you must know," the Saiyan paused, tilting her head back and clunking her forehead against the wall. "I was trying to live on my own again. I know how Vegeta must feel, being pampered here. I wanted to leave, see the rest of this planet, try to survive on my own and try to assure myself I could." Ona turned away, looking back towards the horizon. Her eyes were especially shiny, possibly due to extra lubricant or the fact she was staring directly into the sun. She tore her gaze away in a futile attempt to rip her pathetic utterances from her memory.

Bulma shook her head and turned, walking across the soft, dewy grass. She opened the double glass doors and wiped her feet in a professional manner on the throw rug, then slowly closed it behind her. She thought about Ona's words carefully, slightly wounded at the suggestion of the Saiyans being "pampered." The blue-haired woman began to meticulously cook breakfast, knowing full well that her herculean efforts would go unappreciated. She soon began to believe that Ona merely wanted to be alone, as Vegeta often did. Often? Always was more like it.

~*~

Ona would train in silence. She sat in the small, white-fenced yard, her eyes closed and her arms crossed. She had her legs folded indian-style, and her breathing was completely silent and controlled. It was already getting dark, and she had been meditating all day; her tail sat like a dead snake behind her, the cool evening air dissipating into a much more bitter, night brought breeze. She had almost fully abandoned her revealing robes, for the cloth had begun to rot.

Ona had completely subdued her mind for over twelve hours. At least another two weeks had passed since she returned to Capsule Corp., and Vegeta had not bothered her since. She had almost begun to miss the day to day debates and battles, for the weakling Yamcha just was not a decent enough opponent. She avoided all relationships, involving her or others. Apparently, the blubbery blue haired woman and her equally annoying boyfriend were fighting. According to Vegeta, this was nothing new.

The teenager was suddenly pulled out of her day of meditation by a heavy, muscular hand on her shoulder. Looking up in shock, she saw the menacing face of the prince. Ona leapt to her feet, fists instantly up in a combative position to either side of her head. Vegeta merely scowled.

"Go inside. It's a full moon tonight," he said, his voice full of warning. Ona raised an eyebrow, her hands falling to either side of her.

The full moon? So? She thought, attempting to comprehend his words' underlying message. Vegeta gave her a sidelong glance, and chuckled warily.

"So I guess you don't know, then. Saiyans, well, with your tail, you transform. With the help of the full moon. Just get inside and I'll tell you later," he commanded, pointing to the back door. Ona merely stood up, and, feeling it in her best interests, went indoors. She was more curious than ever, but decided to wait until the still hostile prince followed suit.

Ona sat at the table, fingering a placemat as Bulma cooked some new foul-smelling concoction. It reeked of too much nutmeg and too little actual meat, but as long as it was food, Ona didn't mind one bit. She never had been one to be picky about food, despite the encouragement the Prince's harsh criticism invoked.

~*~

Late. What a surprise. Ona rolled her eyes.

This is the third time I've gone over this. The same familiar sound of the time machine drifted to her ears, drawing her attention away from the ground and into the air. It almost made her feel good, the routine, seeing one of the few who knew her. She sighed and shook off the thought, glancing back at the "Capsule Corp." logo. Man, what a fit Vegeta would have if he found out about him and Bulma.. Ona laughed to herself as the vehicle's three legs landed squarely on the already worn-out desert surface.

"Hello again!" Trunks said cheerily, his voice half drowned by the ship's glass dome closing. Ona merely nodded in acknowledgement and sighed, sitting back against her rock. The purple-haired boy glanced at her sideways, adjusting his jacket as he approached her. Tanjua had decided against coming on this trip, on the reason that there were just "too many rabbits on the premises to sleep tonight."

"What crawled down your pants and died?" He asked, sneering. Ona growled in retort and stood up, crossing her arms.

"Your father is an asshole." Suddenly, Trunks burst out laughing, causing a mystified expression to cross Ona's face. "What's so funny?!" She demanded, her black-emerald eyes daring him to chuckle further.

"It took you this long to figure it out?" Trunks snorted again, hiding his laughter with one hand. Ona growled, turning on her heel and looking up. Yet again, the sun was low in the sky, and night was already descending. "What did he do?"

"Well.. nothing, except tell me the.. legend of the Oozarus," she replied, watching the half moon become more pronounced in the darkening sky. Trunks raised an eyebrow, earning an irritated grunt from the female Saiyan.

"Nevermind. Anyhow, just how long do we have until these "androids" appear?" Ona asked, swiftly changing the subject. Trunks sighed solemnly.

"Two years and nine months exactly. Are you going to fight them too?" He replied. Ona snorted, then shrugged her shoulders. Trunks grinned, remembering the words of advice from his mother; "no response from a Saiyan is better than a bad one." He got up and set down his sword and vest, recapsulating his time machine in a cloud of smoke.

For him, each of these meetings were sequential; the time machine required a lot of energy to travel, so he had to do it all at once. He was already noticing the changes in Ona's appearance and demeanor, in both positive and negative ways.

She had come to accept the people on Earth, but wasn't about to join them. Trunks' mother had been very curious about what all this rapid travel business was about, and eventually weaseled the fact he was going to visit a girl out of him. It hadn't totally shocked her, until the lavender-haired teenager had told her that Ona was a Saiyan, she was being trained by Vegeta, and wouldn't tell a soul who she really was. This had shocked Bulma half out of her mind, for she had no recollection of anyone by the name of Ona. Nor any Saiyans beside Vegeta and Goku. Or any of it, for that matter.

The Sun had completely sunk behind the tall, jagged cliffs. Ona sat on the ground, leaning against her favorite rock and gazing absent-mindedly at the sparkly stars above.

"They are each giant suns, but are so far away they only glitter like lost children," she said quietly. Trunks sat down close by, facing her but staring off into space as well. Ona snorted quietly and tucked her head, shifting her gaze to the sun beaten ground. "She was wise."

Ona regretted the statement as soon as she said it. Instantly, Trunks' curiosity was perked, and he turned to her.

"Who was wise?"

"No one!" She cried, jumping to her feet. The change had occurred so quickly, it took the man a few seconds to comprehend.

She's angry, he finally realized. "Okay. Forget I asked.." Suddenly, in the middle of his apology, Trunks' watch began to beep maniacally. He sighed, glancing at the green display screen.

"Gotta run," he announced, then glanced up at her furious expression. "One month..?" Ona merely snorted in acknowledgement and powered up, trotting a few light steps before pushing off into the sky. Trunks followed her with his eyes until her slight form disappeared in the blackness of the night, and he sighed deeply. Why did the power cell have to give out NOW?!?!

~*~

Ona stared up at the ceiling, her hands tucked behind her head for extra support. Her feather pillow had flattened out the night before from one dream or another, and tonight, the added tension of screaming in the background didn't help one bit. She rolled over, groaning and pulling the sheets over her head in an attempt to block out the argument occurring only a few rooms away.

The Saiyan jerked up at the sound of a soft knock at her door. This was the last straw. She leaped up, chucking her flat feather down pillow into the wall so hard it actually left a dent. Her window was wide open, letting the cool evening air into her room, also known as the suffocating box she was condemned to. Ona growled, eyeing the door as she slowly opened it. The sounds of arguing intensified, Bulma's high pitched voice resonating off the hallway's walls.

In the doorway stood a stocky, very annoyed looking Saiyan. He had his arms crossed, and his usually perfect, upright hair was in a tuss. He was dressed in large boxers which were obviously not his, wearing no shirt over his refined, scar-covered chest. Ona sighed and leaned against the wall.

"What do you want?" She asked, glaring at him. Vegeta snorted and shifted his gaze to the source of their disturbance.

"They're keeping me up, and..." he paused, then turned back to her, his glare intensifying. "I thought you might want to get some rage out with me." Ona snickered and nodded, pulling up her flannel pajama bottoms and readjusting her revealing white tank top. Vegeta merely rolled his eyes and padded down the hallway, disappearing around the corner at the bottom. Ona chased after him, tumbling headfirst down the stairs, where she dusted off and hurtled out the back door.

~*~

Author's Note: Man, that was hella hard to finish. I hope you all appreciate it, I may have to extend the due dates.. *sigh* This is getting more and more difficult, but hopefully the story will spice up! I know, this was totally boring, I agree.

Dedications: Vegeta's Gyal - As always. :) Need I say more?

Mizu Megami - Man, its good to know I'm not TOTALLY evil.. Hehe, yeah, I saw that later, but you know me.. To darn lazy to fix it ;P

Kioko - LOL! Man, I know how that goes. I didn't think it was THAT riveting, but thank you! Trust me, it isn't that weird.. I almost got in bed with Vegeta once! XD

Schedule: Next chapter due Tuesday, May 21.

Stuff to Check Out: Have an awesome fic? Want it posted? Check out the archives at www.freewebz.com/eriedragon/, and email me (or IM me) with your hosting request!

~Majin Niña~