I do not own Dragon Ball Z in any way. I make no profit from this story. I just wrote it for fun.

"Hmph! I can't believe he didn't apologize to me!"

Bra rummaged through the refridgerator. She didn't have to be at school for three hours, but she got up extra early in order to elude her father. After training the day before, she retreated to her room and refused to come out. She was adamant about not talking to him. She refused to leave even when her mother said that there was a big surprise in the living room. She knew that it was all just a trick. She didn't care what her father had for her. She didn't want to see him, talk to him or listen to him. How dare he call her pathetic after she tried so hard at something she hated all for him.

She sat down at the kitchen table and was wolfing down her cereal when she was joined by someone else.

Someone she didn't know.

The woman yawned, stretched and walked into the kitchen all at once. She was wearing one of her mother's nightshirts. Bra gaped at her. Who was this woman? She had never seen her before. It was very strange, and what was even stranger was that she had…

The woman's long brown tail waved gracefully behind her as she walked. Bra gasped slightly.

She couldn't be a saiyan , but..there it is!
Sala heard Bra's slight gasp as entered. She looked at her and smiled. "Hey! You must be Bra. Wow, you look exactly like your mother. You sure are weird lookin' for a saiyan princess. So, wadda ya got to eat around here?" Sala scanned the kitchen trying to figure out where the food was kept. Bra continued to gape, completely flabbergasted.

Sala's stomach growled. "C'mon, Princess, a little help? I'm starving!"

Bra continued to stare. Sala looked at her with growing frustration. It was a simple request after all. Just then Trunks stumbled into the kitchen, looking as if he had tossed and turned al night.

"Hey Sala." He said to the saiyan casually. Bra transferred her gaping to him.

Sala beamed at him. "Morning Trunks. Where do you keep the food in this place? Your sister isn't being any help at all."

Trunks looked at Bra and burst out laughing at her expression.

"You'll have to forgive her." Trunks stated as he opened the refrigerator for Sala then went about making some tea. "She isn’t used to the weird stuff that sometimes happens on this planet."

"Truuunks?" Bra asked as she watched Sala rummage through the fridge contentedly.

"Oh, sorry Bra." Trunks said, realizing that she must be confused. "This is Sala. She was Dad's best friend when he was a little kid. Way back when he still lived on Planet Vegeta! Cool hey?"

Sala stood up, arms laden with a pile of food. "I wouldn't call us best friends, " Sala disagreed. She smiled. "More like imposed playmates. Your Dad was such a spoiled little brat. I wouldn't keep company with him only that my father made me."

"Well, You don't mind keeping company with me now." Vegeta observed as he joined them in the kitchen, looking twice as disheveled as trunks. Complete with big circles under his eyes.

"Ya look like crap!" Sala teased.

"Shut up." Vegeta replied and took a chicken leg from Sala's food pile as he passed her. "How could you let someone destroy your spaceship, anyway?"

"How could you let someone cut off your tail?"

Vegeta glared at Sala, who glared right back. Trunks and Bra watched nervously. No one dare mention Vegeta's tail. That subject was always certain to put him on the warpath.

"Hmph." Vegeta grunted with a slight smile. Promptly Trunks and Bra heaved sighs of relief. Vegeta glanced down at Bra who scowled, 'hmph'd' disgustedly and then focused her attention onto her cereal bowl. Vegeta was quite shocked. Surprised that she was still angry. It had never taken her this long to forgive him before.

"So," Trunks began as he sat down, tea in hand next to his sister. "You're positive that there aren't any operatives on the planet."

"Not now. Not unless Morlick conjured them out of the air," Sala said dumping her pile of food on the table across from Trunks and Bra. She sat and ripped a piece of meat from a hambone with her teeth viciously. "Or he has clones or androids or something'" She stated as she chewed. She swallowed and licked her lips. "I rechecked my scouter anyway. But I know that Polkrif doesn't usually send reinforcements with half wits who continuously fail. Morlick had always been full of hot air. Besides, Morlick's theory was so implausible given the common knowledge on Prince Jerkface over there, Polkrif wouldn't bother funding field research. In fact, I suspect Morlick proceeded to this planet without permission." Sala chuckled, glancing at Vegeta and thorally satisfied with the displeasure on his face. "He was right, unfortunately for him, he's dead now and can't reap the benefits of his discovery."

Vegeta growled softly as he fixed himself a sandwich. "But who will attempt to reap the benefits in his stead?"

Sala was in the middle of chewing an entire bagel that she'd stuffed in her mouth. "Don wury" She stated then swallowed hard. "No one's gonna get the princess here. Not while I'm around."

"Hmph!" Vegeta scoffed unimpressed.

Bra went bug eyed. "What is going on here!" Bra wailed, wondering how in the hell this saiyan woman got here. Most of all she wondered how she became involved when she hadn't done anything.

"Apparently, some alien assassins are after you." Trunks responded.

"Trunks!" Vegeta yelled. That was hardly an explanation. The only thing that would do would scare Bra and make her scream like an idiot.

"ASSASINS!?!?!" Bra screamed. "WHY DO ALIEN ASSASINS WANT TO KILL ME?"

Vegeta sighed in frustration.

Sala cocked an eyebrow at her. "You tell me, princess."

"ARGH!" Bra growled and jumped up from the table.

"That's it! This is nuts! I'm going to school! And when I get home things had better be normal again!"

She got up to do just as she said.

"You're staying here today." Vegeta ordered with the majority of his attention focused on preparing his breakfast.

"Why?" Trunks and Bra demanded at the same time.

"Because I don't...." Vegeta faltered, not wanting to admit his excuse in front of Sala. "Just because!" He said stubbornly.

"I'm not going to listen to you!" Bra replied in anger. "I'm not going to let you run my life anymore!"

Vegeta dropped the knife he was holding roughly on the counter, turned and marched towards her. Scowling viciously. Bra dropped her backpack and ran to her room. Not wanting Vegeta to make her stay put. Vegeta stopped, scowl softening into a look of remorse. Knowing that he should apologize to her instead of scaring her.
"Nice one, Dad." Trunks chastised. Vegeta shot a glare at him, this was all his doing. Trunks was like his mother, he couldn't keep his big mouth shut. Then he returned to making his sandwich.

Sala sighed in satisfaction, taking no notice of the family argument that had just gone on while she ate. Very little remained in reminisce of the food she'd taken from the fridge.

"I'll talk to her." She chirped and bounded off before Vegeta could protest.

He shrugged and sat down at the table with his massive sandwich.

Trunks stared at him accusingly.

"What?" Vegeta demanded. Trunks merely shook his head.

Bra collapsed on her bed, face buried in her pillow. She hoped that it would stifle her sobs. Why did he have to be so mean to her?

Bra rose to her knees and looked at her hands. Tears fell on her up turned palms.

Bra gasped, trying not to bawl.

"It's not my fault." She sobbed.

Just then her door was flung open and in walked Sala. Surprised at the intrusion, Bra threw herself to her pillow again. She didn't want this saiyan woman to see her crying. She felt weak enough already.

"Nice room!" Sala said as she walked around, examining objects. She stopped by the dresser and looked at all the pictures Bra had displayed. All of them were family photos taken at various times throughout the young girl's life. And every one of them had Vegeta in it. There were a multitude of ones with just the two of them.

"Go away! I didn't ask for you to come in!" Bra yelled, her pillow muffling her objections.

"We need to talk." Sala said seriously and shut the door, then flopped down on the end of Bra's bed.

"Comfy!" Sala exclaimed. "What a spoiled little princess you are!"

"Hmph!" Bra scoffed. "I'm no princess!"

Sala laughed. "Are you kidding? Of course you are. Your father is prince Vegeta. And I know a daddy's girl when I see one, believe you me!"

"My father hates me." Bra mumbled.

Sala snickered. "Teenagers." She said shaking her head. "So he got mad at ya? Get over it, kid. Life isn't sunshine and lollipops all the time."

"I know that!" Bra spat. Getting more than just a little annoyed by Sala bothering her. Couldn't she just wallow in her own misery in peace?

"Your Dad is just worried about you, that's all." Sala continued gently. " He told me that he was just trying to provoke you yesterday into using your power. He admitted it was a harsh method, and I can tell that he's sorry."

Bra turned her head from her pillow. "I want to hear that from him."

"I know." Sala said gently then chuckled. "But he's Prince Vegeta, you could die waiting for an apology form him. He's just too damned arrogant."

"He's not that arrogant." Bra argued.

Sala chuckled, "See? told ya, daddy's girl."

Bra sat up wiping the rest of tears from her red eyes. Sala looked at her sympathetically.

"He doesn't get mad at you much, does he?"

"Lately he's been getting mad at me all of the time." Bra replied. "It was different when I was little. He never got mad at me. No matter what I did, I was immune to his rage." Bra smiled at the thought of her father melting whenever she went near him, then it faded into a frown. "But it seems that now he's developed an immunity to me."

Sala sat up with her. "Worry does that to him. It's a family trait, his mo….." Sala stopped herself in mid-sentence. "Don't take it personally. He still adores you, I can tell."

Bra smiled, then turned a curious face towards Sala. "Where did you come from, Sala?" Bra asked. "Dad said that there were no more saiyans besides Goku and him."

Sala nodded. "He was right in believing that, great pains were taken to hide me from him."

"Y..you were a childhood friend of his?" Bra asked. "He told me once that he had no friends when he was small."

Sala smiled warmly, but her eyes revealed her sadness. "Our separation is a painful memory, for us both." Sala pulled her knees up to her chest, "It all happened the day your Grandfather refused to give your father to Frieza….."

"Where's Bra?" Bulma mumbled as she stumbled into the kitchen. Her housecoat was undone and hanging from one shoulder. Her eyes had bigger black circles under them than Vegeta's and her hair was a tangled, frizzy mess.

"Sala is talking to her." Trunks replied. "Dad pissed her off again."

Vegeta glared at Trunks, not wanting to hear Bulma scream at him. This was one morning it just wouldn't amuse him at all.

"Are you sure that's wise, Vegeta?" Bulma stated calmly, much to Trunks' relief. He didn't want his father pounding on him for getting him in trouble. "You said last night in bed that you didn't..."

"I remember what I said." Vegeta replied, very calmly. Very un-Vegeta like. Trunks couldn't help but gape.

Bulma joined her husband and first-born at the table. "You don't trust her, " Bulma stated in a whisper. "Yet you allow her to be alone with our daughter?" She continued, slightly agitated.

"Why don't you trust her? Her story seems plausible enough. Considering all the other stuff that's happened in the past around here." Trunks whispered. Eyeing the doorway in case Sala came back.

Vegeta shook his head. "She's lying about something." He took a long sip of his orange juice, pondering his belief. He set the empty glass down on the table and rotated it absentmindedly between his fingers. "Of that I'm positive."

"Th..that's just awful!" Bra exclaimed, trying to hold back her tears. Sala had just finished explaining the particulars of the massacre a the palace.(detailed in "The Prince")

"The Ginyu force took your father to one of Frieza's bases. They came back to his bedroom, retrieved me and took me to another."

"Why didn't they kill you?" Bra wondered. "Why would they steal both of you when they had only come for my Dad?"

"I had heard the reasoning was that the Ginyu force were supposed to bring your father unharmed. But Your father was a force to be reckoned with, even as a small boy. They ended up with damaged goods. So, they took me too as an apology of sorts."

"But how could you have not known of each-other's survival. A secret like that couldn't be easy to keep." Bra pointed out. Sala smiled sadly.

"Frieza didn't want me. He said that a female was too dangerous to have around. If we ever mated , our child could very well have surpassed Frieza's power. Frieza was prepared to kill me. Fortunately, his father, King Cold had come for a visit and was looking for a new pet. I was spared, but there were countless times I wish I had've been killed. Life at King Cold's was unbearable."

Bra looked to the ground, having had her fill of horrible stories for one afternoon..

"When did you escape?" Bra wondered.

"About thirty years ago, when Frieza and his father were finally killed by your brother." Sala laughed. "Now, that's an interesting story! I never would've thought time travel was possible."

"So, what does all this have to do with me?" Bra asked, not wanting to change the conversation just yet.

Sala chuckled. "You're very important Bra. Your father told me of your special ability. If you master it then the people after you will have something to be afraid of for sure!"

"Afraid of me?"

Sala nodded. "Apparently these people, the Fortiens they're called, have prophesied that the only person who could stop their leader from obtaining dominance over the universe is a saiyan Princess." Sala smiled mockingly. "The idea is ludicrous. Especially since before yesterday they thought the closest thing to a saiyan princess was me. At King cold's I was protected from them. But as soon as I escaped, they started hunting me down."

Bra stared at her wide eyed.

"I spent thirty years fighting and running. Somehow, Polkrif's field researcher, Morlick, stumbled across your father and you. They're hunting you now, because you're a true Saiyan Princess. My title was only honorary, bestowed upon me by your grandfather."

Bra was flabbergasted and terrified and it plainly showed on her face. Sala smiled in reassurance. "But don't worry. They're no matches for a super saiyan. And I doubt that Vegeta would allow them to kill his little girl. There are no sure facts that Morlick even told anyone else about you. It's common knowledge that Prince Vegeta died by the hands of Frieza. I doubt that Morlick was able to prove the contrary before your father offed him."

Bra hummed in agreement , reassured, and looked at her bedcovers. She often asked her father this question. It was a question to which she usually got an impatient and almost angry response to.

"What was planet Vegeta like?" Bra asked. "Do you miss it?"

Sala smiled warmly. "It was my home. I miss it in that sense. But as for what it was like, I can honestly say that I don't remember much. It's the same with your father, I think." Sala sighed and let her feet drop back to the floor. "It must have been so hard for him, being alone. It was hard for me."

"Yeah," Bra agreed. "Most people don't understand the way he is. Even Goku, I mean Kakarrot, isn't a normal saiyan."

Sala smirked fondly. "Neither is your father."

"So what do we do?" Trunks asked his father as Bulma cleared the table. "Just sit around and see if any assassins show up on the doorstep?"

"More or less." Sala answered as she entered with a now happy Bra. "You're exaggerating just a tiny bit there, Trunks. My scouter will pick up any enemy ships well before they enter earth's atmosphere."

Bulma heaved a sigh of utter relief as she poured tea for everyone.

Bra walked right over to her father and hugged him.

"I'm sorry Bra." He said, feeling that he did not deserve her affection at all.

" You're forgiven." Bra said and squeezed him tighter, then went to the fringe to get a drink.

"Let's just consider the worst case scenario." Trunks suggested. "An assassin does come to the earth looking for Bra. What then?"

"What else?" Sala shrugged. "We fight. We fight until all threats to Bra, this planet and the universe have been destroyed."

"That seems easier said than done." Trunks grumbled.

Sala hmph'd. "Well, you'd know better than I. Being a super saiyan and all."

Trunks took a sip of his tea. Finally satisfied with Sala's answer.

Sala was about to strike up a conversation with Bulma when Trunks interrupted yet a gain. "What if they attack a town or city before we can get to them."

Sala huffed. Getting annoyed with Trunks' persistence in talking about the negative.

"If they were Frieza's operatives then that would be a concern. But these men are not, they're after Bra and that's it. They'll follow us because they will not leave without killing her."

"So, that means that they won't be leaving at all." Vegeta stated, arms crossed over his chest in determination. "Now drop it Brat! This is a fine time you've picked to become practical."

Trunks scowled at Vegeta then got up. "I gotta go to work now. Call if anything happens."

Vegeta growled frustrated after his son.

Bra looked around the table hesitantly. "So, if Sala's scouter will pick them up well before they'll actually get here then can I go to school. You'll know where I am."

"No." Vegeta stated.

"Why not?" Bra exclaimed.

"Because ...." Vegeta thought for a moment, needing an excuse. "We have training to do."

"What?" Bra demanded incredulously.

"You heard me. I don't want you wandering around with that unpredictable power any longer. So go get changed and meet me in the gravity chamber in five minutes."

Bra turned to her mother. "Mom...."

"This is none of your mother's business!" Vegeta yelled. "Now go do as you're told."

"Hmph!" Bra scoffed and crossed her arms over her chest in anger.

Vegeta stared hard at her. "Do I have to carry you out again?"

Bra got up and stormed away. "Whatever! The sooner I can control it the sooner I can quit for good!" She yelled behind her. Vegeta gritted his teeth to prevent himself from yelling something nasty back.

Sala smirked at her friend. "Well, so much for being forgiven."