After much debate on what piece to clean up and post first, I picked this one cause it's close to my heart. Inspired by a mix of my own childhood and stupidoomdoodles awesome head canons about Bra Briefs. Feedback would be super appreciated and help encourage me to get over my shyness of posting more of my writing.

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Bright azure eyes glanced nervously from the folded paper clutched in her tiny hands back to the teacher as Bra Briefs waited in a small line of her classmates to show the teacher her completed assignment. The little girl frowned as she peered at the girl in front of her. That girl's project looked nothing like hers. That girl had followed the teachers instructions and made the perfect little card, carefully cut into the shape of a heart out of red construction paper with the words from the white board meticulously copied out to perfection. Bra glanced back down at the card in her hands. For starters it was not heart shaped, nor was it red, and it most certainly did not have the teacher's dictated message of 'To the best dad ever! Happy Father's Day!' written on it. When it was the other girl's turn to go up and show the teacher the card she'd made, Bra cringed as the teacher cooed over how wonderful the card looked. Then it was her turn. Taking a deep breath, she marched up to the teacher and held up her card. The teacher looked at it stunned for a moment.

Bra's card was a simple normal rectangular shaped card. It was a deep blue paper that was heavier than the thin red cardstock the other children had used, and the message written on it was definitely not what the teacher had written on the board.

"Why Bra... how... creative." The teacher said trying to hold her smile as she stared puzzled at what was written on the card. "But dear, you were meant to make a father's day card like the example I showed you earlier."

Bra Briefs bit back the part of her that wished to inform the teacher that the statement written on all the other children's cards, as per instructions, was false seeing as not everyone's father could be the 'best dad ever' simultaneously. Besides, Bra already knew her father was indeed the best, and that she didn't need a card to tell him that. However, her mother had told her to respect her teachers, even if sometimes they were wrong. So mustering her sweetest tone possible, the little girl smiled up at her instructor.

"I just thought that my daddy would like this card better, Mrs. Davis." Bra said in the most sugary sweet voice, her big blue eyes staring pleadingly up at the teacher, searching for some sort of approval.

"That's lovely dear." Mrs. Davis replied with a curt nod, before doing something that the little Briefs girl never saw coming. The teacher grabbed a spare piece of red construction paper and handed it to the confused little girl. "Here dear" She said in a tone equally as sweet as the little girl's had been, "Why don't we try again?" And with that Bra watched in horror as her card was carelessly tossed in the trash bin next to the teacher's desk.

At a speed faster than the eyes of the teacher or any of her classmates could follow, Bra had snatched up the card she had made. The girl's eyes welled up wet with tears as she inspected the now bent corner of her card. The teacher braced herself for the oncoming wailing, but it never came. Using her sleeve to dry her eyes, Bra glared up at her teacher with a look that made the woman's skin crawl before storming back off to her desk with both her original card and the new construction paper the teacher had given her.

Stunned, Mrs. Davis watched as the usually sweet little girl went about making a new card with frightening precision and speed, and not a trace of enjoyment in her actions. Bra cut a perfect little heart shape with furiously snipping scissors. The whole class watched in slight horrified fascination as Bra's crayon practically screamed in protest with how hard she was scrapping it against the paper as she wrote the message from the board without glancing once to make sure she'd copied it correctly. The stickers and glitter glue were applied with such force that each seemed like a sharp little punch to the card's gut. Silence fell over the class as Bra pulled back to examine her work. Then without a word, the little girl marched back up to the teacher, new card in hand.

"Here's your stupid card." Bra hissed with a venom that no five year old little girl should possibly be capable of as she placed the new card on the teacher's desk.

"Oh." Was all the woman could mutter as she stared dazed at the little card before her. It was perfect. Had she not just witnessed the malice with which it had been made she never would have known that it was anything but a heartfelt token of a delightful little girl's love for her daddy.

Meanwhile, Bra had stormed back to her desk, to collect her things into her tiny satchel, including her now tarnished original card. The little girl picked up her bag and swiftly walked towards the classroom door. While it was still early for class to be dismissed, Bra had decided she was done with school today. She'd wait for her mommy to come pick her up outside.

"Have a nice day Mrs. Davis." The little girl said, not bothering to sound at all sincere.

...

That afternoon's meeting had been going so dreadful that Bulma Briefs was almost happy to be interrupted by a phone call from her daughter's school. Almost being the key word here.

"I'm sorry Gentlemen, but it appears I need to go pick up my daughter from school a bit early. Can we perhaps reschedule for another day to finish this?" Bulma asked with a less than hopeful grin. She knew that the potential client was as good as lost already.

Bulma wasn't sure what she'd expected to find when she got to the school. It had not been an uncommon occurrence during Trunks' early school days to have to pick him up from the principal's office. Generally she'd also find Chichi there to pick up an equally suspended Goten, the pair of demi-saiyans having been caught once again sparring on school property. But Bra? Surely the girl hadn't gotten in a fight at school had she? The school secretary had simply said that the girl wished to be picked up early and was refusing to return to her class.

When Bulma arrived at the school she found Bra sitting on the front steps outside the main office. Her school bag was clutched tight to her chest and she was wearing a tiny scowl that clearly stated she was her father's daughter.

"Hey there baby, why such a sore look?" Bulma asked calmly as she bent down to look her daughter in the eye.

"I wanna go home." Was all Bra would say on the matter, hugging her bag tighter.

"Alright, kiddo." Bulma sighed. "Mommy just needs to talk to your teacher for a moment. Kay?" Bra nodded quietly, though her mother hadn't missed how tense the girl had gotten at the mention of her teacher.

...

It was possibly the quietest ride home Bulma had ever had with Bra in the car. The five year old spent the whole ride glaring daggers at the little red paper heart Bulma had set on the dashboard after her talk with the teacher. While Bulma had nodded and agreed with the teacher that the card was lovely, she had inwardly scoffed at the reaction she knew the card would with no doubt incite from her husband. Unfortunately, she couldn't simply inform the clueless woman that unlike all the other kids in her class, Bra would be taking the dreadfully cliché card home to a proud and stubborn prince of an alien warrior race who most certainly did not celebrate trivial human things like father's day. So instead, Bulma had politely thanked the teacher for her time, taken the little heart shaped card, and promised to talk to Bra about how she couldn't just leave class like that again.

"So Bra," Bulma asked with a tired glance towards her daughter as they pulled up to Capsule Corp. "You going to give your dad the card you made for him?"

"It's ruined." Bra sniffed as her eyes welled up with tears again.

"Can mommy see it?" Bulma asked, nodding towards the satchel Bra clung to like one of her favourite teddy bears. With a slight wobble of her lower lip Bra opened the bag and pulled out the little blue card, handing it to her mother.

"Here, we'll just bend the corner back a bit. I bet your dad won't even notice the difference." Bulma said with a sly wink as she carefully smoothed out the card. "See? All better!"

"You sure he won't notice?" Bra asked suspiciously as she carefully inspected the card. Bulma bit her lip as she silently swore if Vegeta made any comment on the crumpled state of the card she would find a way to make the smack over the head she'd give him actually hurt.

"Of course, honey." Bulma said with a smile as she offered the card back to her daughter and gently wiped her little tear stained cheeks. "Now why don't you go put away your things and get cleaned up for dinner. Your father should be done training soon."

"Thank you mommy!" Bra chirped with a little grin before undoing her seatbelt and hopping out of the back seat of the car, cheerfully humming to herself as she skipped up the driveway, the repaired card clutched tightly in her hands.

...

Later that evening, after having finished a long conference call that was meant to try and patch up the failure of the day's earlier meeting, Bulma had snuck into the kitchen to pour herself a cup of coffee. While she had not seen when it had traded hands, she couldn't help but smile when she noted that Bra's card was now proudly displayed on the fridge door.

Her smile only grew as she recalled the first time she'd put a drawing Trunks had made when he was little on the fridge. Given that back in those days, the kitchen had been one of the few rooms Vegeta regularly frequented other than the GR, she had decided that the traditional human display of a proud parent was the most likely way to get the crayon family portrait noticed by the hot headed prince. She giggled as she recalled how annoyed Vegeta had been when he'd found the picture tacked up there. While Trunks' artistic skills had been lacking at the tender age of three, the fact that next to the blue haired scribble labeled 'mommy' was a crayon rendition of the GR labeled 'daddy' had not been lost on Vegeta. It had clearly been an efficient enough jab on her part in the argument that he ought to spend more time with his son, as Vegeta had spent the next morning giving Trunks his first lesson on how to throw a proper punch. Admittedly, it had not been what she'd been hoping for when she implied that Vegeta should get to know his three year old son better, but it had at least been a step forward from ignoring their son's existence completely.

Lost in thought, Bulma leaned back against the counter and gently blew the steam from her mug before taking a small sip. Had someone told her then that given another decade of living on Earth, her wild Saiyan Prince would be the one pinning their daughter's work to the fridge door, she would have laughed. Though she supposed it wasn't all that surprising, given how from the day she'd been born, Bra had always been her daddy's little princess.

"She's every bit as conniving as you are." Vegeta said as he walked into the kitchen, "She got Trunks to teach how to write that just so she could surprise me."

"What's it say?" Bulma asked curiously. She had noticed earlier while bending the card back into shape that the writing on it wasn't in English, but hadn't wanted to ask Bra while she was so upset. From the proud smirk on her husband's lips as he read out the alien language she knew her daughter had done well in choosing the right words for her father's day card.

"It roughly means 'I carry your bloodline with honor'." Vegeta translated for her. Bulma held back a giggle at how adorably formal and Saiyan the statement of Bra's affection sounded. It was no wonder Vegeta looked so proud. No silly red hearts or glitter glue would have measured up to the gift Bra had given him- her pride.

END

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