Disclaimer: I don't own DB/Z/GT. If I did then GT would never have existed and I'd be a heck of a lot richer.
AN: Hey, welcome to my first story on ff.net, ever. Don't I feel special.
Ok, I don't like GT. I don't like Vegeta's haircut or the stupid monsters or anybody's fashion sense. It's just all screwed up. Maybe I'm biased 'cause I haven't really seen it yet, but from what I've read/researched (is that what you'd call it) online I find it brainless, dim-witted, dense, and a complete desecration of the original Dragonball/Z series. So in this little one shot thingy, it doesn't exist.
Oh, and I've never been to Japan. I know little to nothing about Japanese culture. So bear with me on the Americanisms. I can't really help it.
And my grammar is not perfect. I don't expect it to be, and I enjoy using sentence fragments. But if anyone wants to offer to proofread for me then I would much appreciate it.
That's all, enjoy.
She was frustrated. Frustrated and pissed. And mad and upset and a whole host of other angry feelings. And underneath all that was even a bit of insecurity. Which was why her flight pattern to the afternoon sparring session was slightly irregular. Well, not slightly. She almost broke the sound barrier, but remembered what had happened when Goten and Trunks had done the same thing and upset a few people on a cruise. So she got to her training session a little early.
Pan landed on the grounds of C.C. and immediately entered the gravity chamber and started hitting her teacher. It was ok, she knew he could take it. But after 5 minutes he got a bit mad. It wasn't normal for her to explode like that.
"Brat, stop." Authority, wisdom and arrogance rang so clearly in his voice. "You are acting like a deranged maniac, and it is not helping you improve."
Pan looked up. She had long ago learnt to decipher Vegeta-ese, and knew that was his way of worrying about her actions.
"Do you really want to know? What I mean is that this might take a while out of our time."
"Brat, why did you think that I asked?" Irritation in his voice. He was the Saiyan Prince and should not have to repeat himself to a lowly third-classed female.
"Ok, but it's gonna take a while."
Her voice went from angry to subdued and depressed in a millisecond as she began her story.
"I was at school when it happened. No, we were at school when it happened. High school, the pointlessness that neither of us understands and yet must suffer. I honestly don't understand why my dad enjoys studying so much. But that's another story. Along with why two 15-year olds are already in their senior year. And you already know how our saiyan genes make us intelligent for a reason that even your wife can't figure out.
"We were standing in the cafeteria, lining up for the slop that they so willingly call food. She was talking about dragging me to the mall later that afternoon. And I was thinking about hacking into the mall and/or school building systems to 'accidentally' set off the sprinklers to get me out of my daily torture. So she was talking and I was half-listening when some guy tripped and spilled food on her shoes. Imagine, brick-red gunk that they assume to call chili and rice spilled all over her white patent leather platforms. I can still see it happening, sort of like in those movies where everything goes in slow motion.
"Bra looked up and saw who it was. Danny. He's always picked on both of us for our age and the fact that we were in high school. Not that it was any more than taunting, and I've always beat people up that threaten her when neither you nor Trunks are around. Saiyan instinct to protect my princess or something. But this time she didn't need protecting. She went super right there in the middle of the cafeteria. I'm guessing it was the stress of the day; she'd just broken up with that loser boyfriend of hers and it is her 'time of the month.' But honestly. Just because somebody spilled food on her shoes.
Vegeta at this point scoffed a little, remembering his own wife when she got visited by her 'Auntie Flo' once a month. Now that was an experience he would rather not live through every single freakin' month.
"She did it. Bright blonde hair and teal-green eyed change right in front of everyone. I instantly grasped the situation, and teleported to my house. You remember when she and I went as the gold fighter and Cell for Halloween that one year? I got that mask from my house and teleported it back to her.
"We managed to convince everyone that she had just pulled out the mask to scare Danny into maybe being a bit nicer. Luckily nobody had caught my disappearing act because of the attention on Bra. And I guess the rest of the day was just shock to me, I finished up the school day and came here. End of story."
It was at that point that both Vegeta and Pan sensed Bra arrive home and happily bounce into the kitchen where her brother and mother who were discussing something to do with business over ChiChi's excellent cookies.
Pan looked up at her martial arts teacher and trainer, tears of self-loathing and pain in her eyes. They were tears that she would never shed in front of others or even herself.
"So that's the story. I guess it's just that I thought I would be the first female super saiyan." Her tone changed to anger as her eyes hardened "I mean, has Bra ever trained a day in her life? Has she given up so much time and sweated blood in this gravity room? Does she even know how to make a ki blast?"
Pain took over once again as she conceded, "I'm sorry, that was totally uncalled for. But I can say one thing. Even though we both know that I would never harm a hair on her head."
Pan took a deep breath as she sighed and stared out the window.
"I understand now why you wanted to kill my grandfather so much."
AN: (again) so how was it? I have an idea of how I would make it into a full blown story, so do tell if you want it continued or if it's good as a one-shot. Which means you'll have to push that little button that says 'review' on it down there in the bottom left hand corner.
J