He knew the boy had been a bio-mechanoid

I have never seen Dragonball GT, so lets just assume this is an alternate timeline where it never happened.  I'll try to keep ages and names right, but since this is my story I can do pretty much what ever I want.  Mwa ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ( gomen ).

Disclaimer:  I don't own anyone or anything.  Akira Tomaryia owns all things Dragonball, as far as I know.

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Pan woke up on the floor, stretched into a fairly uncomfortable crescent shape.  Damn, she hadn't even made it over to the bed.  She had been training really hard thru the early morning hours (too hard) trying to exhaust herself.  Trying to get the face of that boy out of her mind.  "I guess it worked," she mumbled to herself as she tried to raise her face off of the carpet, which would undoubtedly have left a very flattering impression on her forehead.  "Kuso…ouch… maybe I'll just lie here a bit longer".

The first rays of sunrise were streaming in thru the open window, onto the strands of dark hair that covered her face.  She was still exhausted, but the bed would be a better place to go back to sleep.  She tried to move her head to keep the sun light out of her eyes, and immediately whimpered when she realized how stiff her neck was and how badly it ached.  Probably due to all those spinning kicks last night, followed shortly after by her sleeping on the floor in such an awkward position.  She paused and thoughtfully rubbed her neck, "or maybe it was when that boy had grabbed me".  She hadn't felt the pain then, but she had been in shock after all.  She closed her eyes again only to see his calm features and pale gray eyes flash before her, and she jerked the eyes open.  She winced at the sudden clenching in her gut, and she curled herself up into a ball, her soar arms holding her knees up to her chest.  Guilt washed over her as it finally hit her, what she had done.  She had taken a life.  Her father had told her that it was the most painful thing he had ever had to deal with after a battle.  Not the physical pain, but the emotional pain.  Dende, no wonder he hated to fight.  This was horrible.  Not only had she taken a life, but it wasn't even a megalomanical tyrant threatening to take over the world or kill her family.  It was a boy on the roof of a ninth story building. 

She willed herself to crawl over to her bed and rolled herself into the center of the mattress, dragging the sheets up to her chest as she did.  She closed her eyes again and forced herself to try and remember what had happened.  Bra and Marron had taken her to a party in a building downtown.  It was several top floor apartments that were overflowing with college kids, smoke and body heat.  She remembers having had at least 3 shots of…something.  She had turned 21 a month ago, but she hadn't wanted to go out drinking with the girls until her mom had gone on her business trip to San Francisco and her dad pulled another all-nighter at the University.  They most defiantly would not have approved.  She remembered that she had fled from the onslaught of smoke, noise and heat up to the roof of the building.  A couple had been …ahem… making out in the roof access hallway, but it was so cold outside that roof was totally vacant.  So she sat out on the ledge and watched the cars swerve and speed on the dark street below.  Then she heard a very light footstep behind her, and spun around, her feet planting in the gravel next to the ledge.  It was a boy.  He looked about her age, but it was too dark to tell, even with her sensitive eyes.  And he said nothing, just stared at her.  She remembered she couldn't sense his Ki, probably because it was too low, or maybe because she was a bit tipsy, or both.  She remembered it in slow motion, like an instant replay on T.V.  She had just started to say, "It sure is cold outsi-", and his right hand had flown up and clasped her around her slender neck, choking off the last word.  It caught her by surprise, how strong his grip was.  If she had tried to pull back it would most likely have broken her neck. Then she had reached up to grab the arm that held her, but her arm was caught in the left hand of the still silent attacker.  Now she was scared. 

He pulled her off of the ledge, towards him, not letting her feet touch the ground and twisted his waist flinging her several feet towards the doorway, maybe expecting her to run, or cower.  But what she did then surprised even her.  When she felt the cold air rush into her burning lungs, and felt her arm twist painfully in his grasp as he tossed her behind him, she had immediately begun to focus her mind on the unforeseen encounter she was now forced to deal with.  She had fallen onto one knee and was up on her feet in a fighting stance before he had even turned to face her.  And then she saw his eyes in the light of the open doorway.  His eyes were a dull gray, without emotion, without life.  She sensed an odd energy coming from him.  And somehow she knew he was going to kill her. 

Or at least he was going to try.  Deep inside of her the will to fight and survive detonated any self-control she still had a firm grasp on.  Her power level flared suddenly, and the wave of burning life energy impacted the dark form of the boy, throwing him away from her…and over the side.  She could still clearly see his disheveled black hair, impassive features and dead eyes in the white light of her aura, falling away from her before she could think to do anything.

She started shaking and squeezed her eyes harder, pushing out tears that had not been there the night before.  She had fought in martial arts contests, destroyed robots, and even gotten into brawls with Goten and Trunks.  But she had never killed someone before. 

When Bra and Marron had sensed her Ki level rise, they had rushed up to the roof to find her standing in the same spot, still in shock.  She didn't move from the spot until she had told them what had happened.  They had screamed, held her, comforted her, told her it wasn't her fault.  She didn't believe them.  The police and some guys in white vans had appeared within minutes of the "accident", putting up a barricade on the street below, blocking any view of carnage with tarps and floodlights and taking statements from party guests.  Guessing that it was probably an accident, the officer had just taken her name and address down and told her that someone would drive by to speak to her the next day.  She had no argument, as she was defiantly not in the mood to answer questions.  The girls had stayed with her until 3am, when she had finally told them to go home and get some rest.  They looked as upset as she felt.  As soon as they were gone she had started to work out, trying to think of anything but what had happened only a few hours before.  She pumped iron until she couldn't raise her arms, she kicked her dads punching bag until a roundhouse kick finally broke the chain and sent it air express into the wall on the opposite side of the room. Great, now there was still a large indentation in the far wall to explain to her dad. 

"Oh no" she moaned.  Her dad.  How could she face him?  He would know, he could always tell when something was not right with her.  And she knew how he would feel.  Like it was his fault.  Like he should have trained her to have more control.  Like HE had killed someone else.  She couldn't stand to hurt him like that.  Her pain was her own, at least for now.  He would find out when the girls told the others, or when the police came by, but she didn't want to tell him.  Or did she? 

Then she heard the door slam, and the soft steps leading up to the front door.  The police?  No, it was her dads Ki.  She swallowed hard and sat up in bed, wiping her eyes on the sleeve of the sweatshirt she was still wearing.  She felt him pause near the front door, then next to the punching bag, and then in the hall next to her open door.  She tried to adopt a façade of being calm and well rested, but she could tell immediately that it hadn't worked because she heard Son Gohan gasp as he peaked at his obviously tired and tear-streaked daughter from behind the slightly ajar door. 

"Hi d..ad" she said as calmly as possible, but she heard her voice crack, and she felt her mental barrier crack as well.  She could tell by how he looked at her that he knew something. Damnit.  She looked away and started to sob again.  Before she could say or do anything else he was sitting on the foot of the bed, his arms around her, her head on his shoulder, her arms squeezing him like she had to keep him from falling off a building.  And then the dam broke and she let the tears flow freely.

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Someplace in a windowless room not so far away, a tall thin man in a black suit sat quietly at a small wooden table overflowing with files, pictures, schematic drawings and a copy of all the information the police had collected the previous evening. His face was calm, but his fingers teased the edge of a notebook, belying his nervousness.

He knew the bio-mechanoid had been there, and had fallen to the street nine stories below. The pail pink "blood" and deep impact crater in the concrete where he had hit testified to the fact… although luckily it had been too dark for any of the witnesses to see him/it get up and walk away after he fell.  "Now that would be hard to explain in a police report," the agent said to himself in a soft southern drawl.

           

The agency had covered the area quickly, to keep prying eyes away.  And the hole had been filled in less than an hour after the incident.  He groaned and leaned back in the chair.  The bio-mechanoid had still not been located, and that was still his top priority.  But now there was a new twist to deal with.  The man pushed his almost white-blonde hair out of his ice blue eyes.  Normally it would be neatly combed out of his eyes, but he was too tired and concerned with other things to care.  That girl, Son Pan, had pushed the bio-mechanoid off the roof.  Even for a strong human male, this would have been nearly impossible.  His superiors had been convinced he/it had jumped or fell, but he knew better.

His face tightened as he realized he might have to break a promise to a friend so soon after making it.  He wasn't ready to reveal the existence of Saiyans on earth to anyone who didn't already know, but he might have to… eventually.

Once he had realized who the girl was, he immediately had told the police officer in charge to send her home, realizing she was in no condition to be interrogated.  She appeared to have been coping with whatever had happened, but his instincts told him she wasn't ready to discuss it with anyone, let alone someone she didn't know or trust.   

But now she had better be ready now.  Time was of the essence. 

He got up and very neatly placed the contents of the desk into a filing cabinet drawer, locked it, silently pushed in the chair, and exited the room closing the door firmly behind him.