A/N: Hello there. I have found myself interested in this pairing mainly because few people want to touch it, let alone anyone in the M section. (This will be a first, so I hope I don't screw it up.) Dr. Briefs and Mrs. Briefs always seem to have a happy, perfect relationship, but I have always been interested in how exactly they came to find one another. What has been a bit of a challenge for this first chapter is basically coming up with their personalities: We have had a basis in the series, but only after they have experienced success and life. That being said, this is my version of a possible Dr. Briefs and Mrs. Brief get-together.
Some notes: Mrs. Briefs never has a given name, but in an interview with Akira Toriyama he said if he had to give her a name it would be "Pansy," so that is the name I have given her. Dr. Briefs first name will never be mentioned in order to maintain some essence of the canon story. This story will eventually live up to its "M" rating, so please be forewarned. Any time mature content is present, however, there will also be a warning at the beginning of the chapter.
Well, I do hope you enjoy. I would love feedback, since I have no idea if I am starting off in a good direction or if changes need to be made. Thank you.
Everyone thought he was the cutest thing. With his periwinkle hair and light blue eyes, he was the most adorable being for miles. Until he grew up. At the age of twenty-two, with several degrees and a doctorate under his belt, he was now considered less attractive than dirt. He wore glasses and a lab-coat, and did not often come away from his work unless he needed to eat or sleep. Most of his colleagues believed he was a mad scientist, always puttering about the lab, trying to create robots or some such silly nonsense. He had just started getting used to the idea of being alone with his contraptions when the university gave him an ultimatum: supervise a graduate school class or leave the school. Since he still needed the government grants for his research, and the school provided the labs and equipment, he had no choice. But why this course?
He had taken a few history courses, had a smidgen of field study, and now he was supervising the graduate archeological research team…Damn university just pretended to threaten to revoke his status so they could fill an unwanted position. The former supervisor had retired and no one else was willing to oversee a two-month archaeological excavation in the desert. It was not as though he was not interested in the research, but it would mean putting the majority of his own research on hold. Not to mention, he would have to interact with the graduate students, the majority of whom were older than he. He supposed it was partially his own fault for getting into this situation. It was almost his station in life to be a professional doormat. If he were any less aggressive, he would be a sponge. "Going with the flow" was sort of his style anyway, though it did give him grief now and then.
Especially now, when the temperature was well above forty degrees Celsius. He fanned himself with a manila folder, glad he had a tent to shade him. The students appeared to not be phased by the ridiculous amount of heat: they just slapped on the sunscreen and went to work. He was attempting to construct a few small "helper" robots, small enough to fit into a pocket but strong enough to carry groceries. Though, he almost considered salvaging parts in order to create a portable air conditioning unit, but decided against it. His designs had already won him a few awards, and a few models were being bid on by various companies. Most likely he would decline any offers, but it was nice to know his work was appreciated. If his robots became commercial, he wanted it to be by his hand. Too many robots nowadays were shoddily crafted by other robots, and that was a poor way to run a business.
"Dr. Briefs?" The voice brought him from his thoughts. Before him was a dirtied young man, hand shovel in pocket and water bottle in hand. He was the student supervisor: older than he was but very considerate about the title difference.
"Yes?" He tried to sound as focused as possible, though that was difficult when most of his energy was sapped from the damned heat.
"One of the students would like to go to the secondary site to start surveying the area for possible excavation. She said it might take a day or two. Problem is, my main research revolves around this area and I won't get another crack at the site for another year once our time here is up. I was wondering if you wouldn't mind supervising her while she does her surveying. I can handle everyone else here, promise." Ah, time to be stepped upon once again. In this particular instance, however, he felt it might be best to give in. The student supervisor had been very helpful, had basically done his job for him, so he might as well return the favor.
"Alright. I'll supervise her while she surveys. By the way, which student is she?"
"Pansy Soto." Oh no.
***
If there were one student he would rather never have contact with, it was Pansy Soto. She was blonde-haired, blue-eyed, and all kinds of ditzy. Well, at least that's how she acted a lot of the time. She was a year his junior and had received her Zoology Bachelor's with top marks. From what he understood, archaeology was more of a diversion than anything else. She did not seem to know what she would do with her life, and was completely content with staying in school until she figured it out. That did not mean, however, that she would slack in any of her courses. Which meant he was stuck with the camping equipment strapped to the transport sled, trudging along in sand that sank up to his ankles with every step. And she was not even breaking a sweat.
They had been walking for about two hours and still had yet to reach the site. That was when the wind started to pick up. At first it was tolerable, welcomed even, but it soon began to fling dirt into their eyes.
"Um, I hate to tell you this, doctor, but I think there may be a sandstorm coming in," Pansy said casually. "Actually, I think it's here now." He sighed and turned into the wind. Sure enough, a large wall of sand was steadily creeping toward them. How was she so calm?
"We need shelter! Where is shelter?" He began having a moderate panic attack and barely noticed when he and the sled were being led towards a rocky cliff face. The next thing he knew, he and all their equipment was scattered about the floor of a small cave. His body was so tense he could not move. But he didn't have to. Pansy went to work pulling out a tarp from the equipment and using some sort of sealant to secure it to the rock, providing a shield from the sand and wind. The bottom few inches were left unsealed, but she placed the sled on top of it to keep it from flapping about.
"You're safe now, you can move." That shocked him out of his attack and forced him to inhale deeply. Excitement was not befitting a man such as him.
"Er, thank you. Sorry about that. I am not used to the elements. Mostly, I just work in a lab. So, how long do you think the storm will last?" he asked apprehensively.
"I don't know. It was not on our radar this morning, so it could be a few minutes, or it could be a few days. There is no way of knowing what a freak storm will do. But, we have enough food and water for three days, and by that point the others will have started looking for us. So, I don't think we're going to die, just might be a bit cramped for awhile." He had not noticed it before, but she had the oddest accent. Everything she was saying made sense, but her accent made it all sound so ditzy. He found himself staring a little. Though, there were certainly other reasons to stare.
She wore short jean shorts, the bottoms of which barely covered her buttocks, as well as a tight white tank-top and a loose plaid shirt. He never considered himself to be any sort of pervert, but with breasts as on-display as those were he had little choice but to admire them. Fortunately, she seemed not to notice. She was busy setting up the rest of the equipment to make the cave as comfortable as was possible.
"Hey, what are these?" She turned to him and held out his incomplete "helper" robots.
"Ah, don't touch those!" He quickly grabbed them away, checking them over for any possible damage. "You could have destroyed months of hard work. Give me that case." He pointed to the case she had unceremoniously dumped on the ground and then removed the robots from. It would be a miracle if none of them had sand lodged in their circuit boards. Surprisingly, Pansy made no comment about the situation. It appeared she took everything in and decided nothing was worth her time. Either that, or she had not paid attention. That was one of main reasons he detested working with her: once she was focused on her own thing, she paid no mind to anything else around her and often caused unintentional problems.
Once he had the case in hand, he moved to the far side of the small cave and pulled out the delicate robotics tools. The circuitry appeared undamaged, though he would have to wait until the robotic frame was finished before being entirely sure. Well, no time like the present to get working on the frames. He grabbed a lantern from the pile of equipment and got to work.
***
It had to have been a few hours before he poked his head up from his work. At that point his stomach made a loud growl in response to the scent of food. Looking over he saw Pansy making up some of the prepackaged meals on the portable stove. The freeze-dried meals tasted akin to cardboard, but at this point he would eat anything.
"You ready to eat?" Pansy asked innocently, a naïve smile upon her face. He nodded and placed down his work very carefully before moving next to the stove. She poured what appeared to be stew into a bowl and handed it to him. He wolfed it down and held the bowl out for seconds. "My, aren't you hungry, Doctor? Oh dear! Look at your hands! They're covered in blood!" He looked down and, sure enough, his hands were covered in blood.
He raised his shoulders and took the ladle from her, serving himself seconds. "It happens. The robotic frames for my robots have to be custom cut, and with so many small parts cut happen all the time. I'll be fine." Before he could place a spoonful of stew in his mouth the bowl was taken from him.
"No, you're hurt! We may be in the desert, but infection can still set in. Here, let me clean and bandage those for you." Without letting him respond, she pulled him over to the pile of equipment and began wiping his hands with alcohol pads. Each time the astringent liquid passed over a cut, he hissed. "Oh, sorry! I'll try to be more careful." It was strange, but he felt oddly comforted by the way she held his hand and gingerly wiped away the blood and disinfected the wounds. Her skin was soft and smooth, gentle warmth emanating from them. She seemed very motherly to him just then.
When she had finished bandaging them, she gave each hand a kiss and smiled widely. "There! All better! Now, please be more careful with your robots. It's not good for you to be injuring yourself." He nodded and gave her a hesitant smile. Something about her intrigued him. She was very one-dimensional in all outward appearances, and yet she displayed a level of concern that could not have come from a one-dimensional being. Perhaps he should peel back her cover and reexamine what he found inside.
A/N: I hope you enjoyed. This story will take awhile to progress, so any feedback would be appreciated. Thank you so much. :)