Note:

I'm back! After five years, I logged onto my account and reread this story, and LORDT. Some of you were too nice. I now realize the amount of typo's there were, and it was a tad rushed. BUT I was 16. So anyways, I felt the idea of my story was good, so I'm going to pick up where I left off and salvage the story. I have revised and edited the old chapters, deleted some of them as well. Suppose the story still really isn't that great but it's just for fun! If you don't like it, kindly just don't read it. (:

If Vegeta had met with his long lost Saiyan friend, instead of Bulma. How they met, and how their love developed.

Fire. Screams. Crying. Explosions. A beautiful face. Dark. I had the same dream ever since I was a little girl. I tried to piece it together, and figure out its meaning. But I never succeeded.

I opened my eyes to my sunlit bedroom.

The light gleamed through the sliding doors that led to my personal beach on my little island that my house rested on. I got up and pulled my long black hair out of my ponytail and let it fall down my fair back. I went to the bathroom and showered and put on some shorts and a tank top I looked into the mirror, into my pale grey eyes resting under long and full lashes. Under my eyes were high cheek bones. And under those were full pouted lips.

Nothing like my parents.

I worked as a model in the city. I had worked hard and become successful. It was a rough job despite what most may think. It wasn't for the weak hearted. Vanity was everything in this industry, and people were brutally honest.

But it payed me well.

My mother had gotten me into beauty pageants as a small child. She said I'd be perfect for it. My father had always called me a little doll. Victory after victory I became well known. Before we knew it, we had job offers from modeling agencies from all around the world. After I graduated high school four years ago, I made it my career.

My door bell rang and I went to answer it. At the door Chi-Chi stood. She was frantic.

"Zia, I don't know what to do!" she sobbed.

Zia was an unusual name, my parents never told me where the name had come from.

"What's wrong?"I asked concerned.

"They've got Gohan. They've got my baby!" she cried as she fell into my arms.

"Who? Who's got him?" I asked as I led her to my table.

She wiped a tear from her eye. I had never seen her so scared.

"Goku's brother. Some Saiyan warrior. He wants Goku to join him or fight him. He wants to destroy earth. He took Gohan as hostage." She said in a hurry.

My eyebrows settled. Poor Gohan. He was only four and he must have felt so alone. So frightened. I didn't know what to do. I could only comfort my friend as she cried for her child.

"Chi-Chi, I'm sure Goku will get him back. He always gets through the roughest and toughest. Doesn't he?" I reminded her.

She wiped another tear. She looked up at me with her worried pale face.

"He does. He's on his way now. I just hope they both turn out okay. I can't lose them Zia. I just can't." she said.

I put my hand on hers and weakly smiled.

"They'll be okay. I promise." I said quietly.

...

Later on TV, a news reporter was at the scene of where Raditz and Goku were engaged in combat. I looked to the couch next to me where Chi-Chi slept. I looked back to the TV and noticed Piccolo had joined Goku.

I woke Chi-Chi to watch.

She rubbed her dark eyes and slowly turned to the TV. Goku had pinned Raditz from behind and was yelling something at Piccolo.

"What is he doing?!" She yelled.

The doorbell rang. I went to answer it and it was Yamcha.

"Hey babe, I came to check on ya. I haven't heard from you all day. I-" He stopped and looked towards my TV.

On the screen I saw Piccolo fire a beam into Raditz that went straight into Goku.

Chi-chi screamed and fell to her knees.

My mouth hung open and my heart raced. Yamcha stepped forward.

"What a blast!" The reporter said in shock. Smoke started to clear. Raditz was dead. Goku was dying. Gohan ran to him and was saying something to his father. None of it was audible from the TV.

And then Goku was gone.