Precious Metal (A DBZ Fic)

Chapter One: Danger From Below

        "These boots...are 30,000 fucking Zeni...let's get 'em!" Roana's minty eyes sparkled with delight as she floated gracefully upwards in the mall aisle and plucked a pair of knee-high deep wine stiletto boots from a high shelf. She barely dodged a handbag that was swung violently at her head upon her landing.

       "Ahh! What the hell?!"

       "Give me those boots, you weird alien space freak!!!"

       A short woman with brown curls and a powder blue dress shook her fist and swung wildly again. Roana dodged each swipe with ease, asking snidely

       "Why do you even want these? I don't think they're in your size, and something tells me you'd topple right over. That inflated head of yours looks like it weighs a ton!"

       Roana grinned in satisfaction as the woman dissolved into an adult tantrum, spewing unintelligible curses at Roana's back as she ran off to try on one or two more dresses pay for the heaping pile of merchandise she had waiting for her at the register and rejoin the rest of her group. She quickly changed in the dressing room, pulling on different articles of clothing and tossing them into 'keep' and 'nope' piles. One in particular looked so good she decided to wear it out. It was a tight black mini skirt that hugged her thighs and didn't ride up uncomfortably, paired with a yellow and black striped halter crop top that reminded her of her own fighting gear. This could be the Earth casual equivalent of her own clothes, she decided. A pair of flat black knee-high boots with yellow stars stamped into the ankles and under the soles, and some elbow-length fingerless gloves settled the matter for her. She took her long, straight deep red hair out of its high ponytail and combed her fingers through it before tying it back up, making sure to keep one long bang loose on either side. She tucked the pendant her mother had given her away under the shirt and set off to finally check out, paying for everything with a sleek black credit card.

       Her time-traveling grown nephew, Trunks, was watching from the store's entrance in absolute abject horror as a group of women descended upon a newly opened box of sweaters in a way that was quite reminiscent to Roana of a school of crazed Merro fish, or Earth piranha, she supposed would be the best equivalent.

       "Hey Aunt Roana!" He called when he noticed her approach. "How on Earth did you make it out of there alive?"

Roana deadpanned as she saw the woman who attacked her in the shoe section mercilessly wailing on the group in an attempt to reach the sweaters herself, going head to head with her friend Goku's wife ChiChi, who was a different force of nature all her own. Many a woman fell under purse lady's assault. What, did that crazy stranger keep bricks in her purse for this very occasion?

"Let's just say it's a good thing we can fly. I had to hover over a few spots just to get to the register. And wouldn't you know it but barely any of them even noticed me! They are.... quite focused."

"I'll say. They make my mom look downright relaxed!"

Roana adjusted the bags on her arms, looked around then asked him, "Hey, where are Master Roshi and Krillin? Are they still waiting in line for that international beauty contest thing?

       Trunks deadpanned, looking suddenly bashful. "No... turns out the entire contest is tomorrow. On the way here they found that kiosk that tries to recruit beautiful women into modeling classes. I couldn't get them to budge after that. They said they'd meet us for lunch though. Speaking of which, we should get going."

       Roana's stomach decided to agree loudly and she flushed a deep crimson and giggled nervously as a few of the heads around them turned. Saiyan appetites were no joking matter, halfblooded or no. Even the people on her home planet had been shocked by the way she, her father, and her brother could put away a meal.