Disclaimer: Not mine.

Let it out

Marron rushed up the steps of the small church, finger-combing her wayward curls as she went. Stopping at the entrance, she took a moment to steel herself and shake the droplets of spring rain from the shoulders of her coat before she eased open the heavy door and slipped inside. The tiny, windowless vestibule was cool and dark, and she found herself squinting and blinking until her eyes became adjusted to the light change. Her gaze was drawn to a small lamp that sat on a flat-topped podium, its low-wattage bulb throwing a ray of dim light on an elegant white register. She neatly signed her name and replaced the pen into its holder.

The sound of perfectly harmonized voices suddenly filled the air. Marron followed the beautiful singing into the interior of the church. She halted just inside the doorway, a huge lump rising in her throat at the sight of the crowded room. These people were friends to Braun and Bura. All these people loved and cared about her brother and his wife. All of them had come to remember.

Feeling trembly all of a sudden, Marron slid into an empty spot at the very back of the church. She scrambled in her purse for a tissue, and when she couldn't find one, the woman next to her offered one along with a small smile. Marron nodded her thanks.

She relaxed against the back of the pew, closed her eyes and let the music of the choir flow all around her and through her chaotic mind. She'd made it. She'd actually arrived in Mahogany in time for the memorial service. And it was a small miracle that she had. Of course, now there was a seventy-two gold speeding ticket that had to be paid. But, despite that, she said a quick prayer of thanks that she hadn't missed the service.

Trunks watched Marron from his seat at the front of the church. The minister had offered for him to sit in the very front pew – the usual place for family members – but Trunks had know n that he would have been there all alone and opted to position himself opposite the choir. He'd used the excuse that he needed to be within easy reach of the dais when it was his turn to speak. From this vantage point in front of the church, he could see the comings and goings of the attendees.

He's seen Braun's sister arrive – thirty minutes into the service. Her curly blonde hair had caught his attention has soon as she'd stepped over the threshold of the sanctuary. She hadn't come up front to the family pew, but had taken a seat at the back.

The minister of the church stood to speak, but Trunks only half heard the words. Marron looked tired, he observed. Dark circles under her deep-set eyes gave her a haunting look. He'd only met the woman twice – he'd never forget either encounter – but seeing her again brought to his mind the same observation that there was something lonely, something isolated about her solemn nature. He remembered both times he'd met her, there had been something about her that had kept her in his thoughts for days and weeks after the experience. He'd found himself puzzling over what it was that so intrigued him about her, until finally he'd become angry with himself for wasting time on the woman and put her out of his mind. Hell, he ultimately concluded, why throw away perfectly good brain power on someone who didn't even like him?

Her eyelids slowly rose and the haunting look turned into a mixture of something tragic and ethereal all at the same time. He found the combination lovely, almost... seductive.

You're sick, Trunks, he told himself. The woman's grieving, for kami's sake. But he continued to study her as she gazed up at the large stained-glass image above the altar.

He'd been told that she was on assignment in the Coconut Islands and assumed that she'd been contacted about the accident, but Trunks couldn't help worrying during the past forty-eight hours out whether or not she'd be able to fly across an ocean and then the country to arrive in time. Well, he was glad to see that attending her brother's memorial service meant a little more to her than her precious career.

Now, that's not fair, a silent inner voice scolded. And he knew it was true. Marron Chestnut might be a career woman, but that didn't mean she wasn't a decent human being. She must have loved her brother just as much as he had loved his sister, Bura. His nerves were frayed, his emotions in turmoil over this loss, and that was the only excuse he had to explain his mean and petty assessment of Marron's late arrival.

When Trunks noticed that Dende had gone silent, he turned his gaze to the man to see the minister motion him forward, Trunks felt his face flame with embarrassment. If he'd been paying attention instead of focusing his thoughts on Marron Chestnut, he'd have been prepared to speak rather than being taken off guard. He rose, tugged on the hem of his jacket and made his way to the dais.

Seeing Trunks Vegeta cross the altar area, Marron almost groaned out loud. If he made some kind of wisecrack about Braun and Bura, she'd just scream. Both times Marron had met Bura's brother, the man had infuriated her with his jeering and critical remarks. Nothing was safe from his black humor.

Marron remembered that Trunks had made asinine comments about Bura and Braun's relationship at the wedding. Her own career had been fodder for his jokes that same day. He'd even used Ron's christening, an event that should have been serious and sacred, and he'd turned the day into material for his dark satire. That was also the day that Trunks had embarrassed her beyond rational thought –

"Today is a day of celebration..."

His voice broke into her dark musings, and she was so startled by his choice of words that her chin tipped upward and her eyes became glued to his face. She made a conscious effort to keep her mouth shut from dropping open. If this was his idea of a joke... She didn't finish the thought when she realized that she wasn't the only one surprised by his statement, for the room grew utterly quiet and still as everyone waited for him to continue.

"Bura and Braun didn't want us to mourn their passing," he said. "They didn't want us, their family and friends, to gather together for a sad and somber affair. They didn't want a funeral."

Marron watched Trunks inhale deeply, and she could tell that it took a great deal of control and effort for him to pull the corners of his mouth into a tiny smile.

"Bura and Braun," he continued, "didn't want us to feel miserable or brokenhearted by their passing. Of course... we will." His tone quivered slightly as he added the aside. "But my sister and her husband wanted us –" He faltered, cleared his throat, and when he began again, his words were stronger, more vibrant. "It was their wish that we celebrate today by recounting our memories of them."

Marron closed her eyes. His words were beautiful, she had to admit. And the whole idea of celebrating her brother and sister-in-law through memories was beautiful too.

"Bura and Braun loved each and every one of us," Trunks said. "They knew we would all have a need to grieve for them. But it was important to them that we do it as joyously and... cheerfully as possible."

Sitting there in the back of the church, Marron let herself become wrapped in the warm, comforting cocoon of Trunks' tone. She'd forgotten how deep, how rich... how memorable his voice was. The acoustics in the high-ceilinged church amplified the melodic pitch of his narrative. His words were inflected with an intense resonance that seemed to smooth across her mind, across her skin as if it were warm, liquid velvet.

"We've enjoyed some beautiful music sung the choir," he said. "These songs were some of Braun and Bura's very favorites." This time his smile was fond and didn't have to be forced. "I know that from now on until the end of my life I will remember them both whenever I hear these melodies." He looked toward the front pews. "Several of Bura's friends have asked to speak. They have biblical readings and poetry they want to share. And some of Braun's friends and co-workers would like to relate some of their thoughts."

As soon as the first person stepped up to the dais to speak, the weird feeling began. Marron listened to the lyrical psalms, the beautiful poetry, but the thoughts and feelings these people expressed started to form a strange emptiness inside her. She was surprised by the number of people who rose to speak, and soon Marron realized that this wasn't part of the planned service. These men and women didn't want to wait until after the memorial service to express the love they felt for Braun and Bura. These people wanted to be included in this most intimate memorial tribute.

One by one, friends of Bura and Braun verbalized their fondest memories of the deceased couple. Some of these memories were sad, some funny, some ironic, but all were poignant. And with each remembrance, Marron found herself learning something new about her brother and his wife. With each remembrance, Marron discovered how little she knew about Braun and Bura.

Her chin quivered as the huge, black void insider her yawned wide. The small church didn't seem big enough to hold her and the emptiness she felt. Suddenly the room seemed as though it were closing in on her. She felt the need to flee. But at the same time, she wanted to stay. As the affectionate, soul-stirring reminiscences flowed, Marron wanted so badly to pluck them from the air and clutch them to her, have them as her very own. But that was impossible.

She pressed her fingers against her lips, trying to hold back the lonely sobs that threatened to choke her. No, she couldn't have these memories. They belong to other people – people who knew Braun and Bura. Her mind whirled with sadness and confusion as yet another story about her brother was recounted, and he ever-widening hollowness swelled until she thought she'd fall into its black, bottomless depths.

Instinct screamed at her; if she couldn't snatch up some of these wonderful memories to fill this emptiness expanding inside her, then she needed to somehow avoid them. Hide from them. Run from them.

Her gaze darted around the room, and as she saw that there was actually a small line of people now forming at the front of the church, she fought the urge to press her hands over her ears. Again, instinct screamed for her to flee. Gathering her purse, Marron surrendered to impulse and escaped.

I got sick right after my beach trip xp So it took a while longer to get well and go back to normal life.

artemis road - I wasn't telling you off o.o It's hard to convey feelings when they're just words without actions hehe I was thinking more in a 'wait and see' tone.

blue tinkerbell, wine and roses, MJAmore - there can never be enough t/m stories for us XD

sp - what a scary thought. I think Marron singing Peacock to Trunks would either give me nightmares or send me into giggle fits.