Chapter 3

Pan rummaged through the shrink-wrapped packages until she found a decent looking piece of red meat. If she wasn't mistaken, Trunks had a weakness for a good piece of cow, especially back ribs. Pan didn't mind, she was partial to back ribs, but considering tonight was a gratitude dinner for Trunks, the houseguest got the last say in dinner selection.

Satisfied, Pan placed it in her shopping cart with her other selections: lettuce, mandarin oranges and walnuts for her famous quick-toss spring salad; cream cheese, crab meat and portabella mushrooms for an unrivalled stuffed mushroom appetizer; asparagus and baby red potatoes as side dishes; and a bottle of Australian red that put just a slight dent in this week's grocery budget. At least you get your money's worth.

Pan peered down at her grocery list and lifted the pen behind her ear to cross off 'back ribs'.

"Ten down. One more to go." Dessert.

On any other occasion, Pan would surprise Trunks with a homemade cake or brownies or even cookies. Pan loves and has a talent for baking. She likes to think that the domestic trait was passed down from grandmother Chi Chi, skipping both Gohan and Goten, who can't bake or cook if their life depended on it. No one ever complained about Pan's baking and cooking.

However, this week has been short of a nightmare. Pan has been working overtime every night for the past week with the finance department to ensure the following year's budget presentation was perfect. The audience at this presentation, scheduled to take place tomorrow morning, is one of Capsule Corporation's biggest sponsors, which means failure was not an option. Talk about stress at the beginning of a career.

Added to a full day, Pan barely had time to finish unpacking the various boxes scattered throughout her apartment. Each night, she went home exhausted, nearly tripping over her own two feet. Unpacking was the last thing she wanted to do. All the essentials were unpacked but she has no idea where her baking box was located, living room or spare bedroom.

Thus, for tonight, Pan's plan was to purchase pre-made grocery dessert for the third time in her life. The first two times were for school events that didn't really count.

Pan stopped in front of the cake cooler and examined the daily choices. Strawberry shortcake, cookies and cream cheesecake, lemon meringue pie and black forest cake. Thinking of the oreo ice cream in her freezer at home, Pan chose the cookies and cream cheesecake.

Crossing off the final item on the list, Pan strolled to the front entrances where the check-out counters were located. Relieved that there was barely a line, Pan quickly unloaded her groceries on the counter belt. A flash of familiar colour had her tilting her head to examine the Japan Weekly cover on the magazine display.

Sure enough, Bra was featured on the front page holding hands with a mysterious new man. Their heads were angled toward each other, as if sharing a secret or a private joke. The headline read, "Heiress Brief with another new mysterious man. What happened to Akira? Or was it Akita?"

Pan had to laugh silently and gave Bra the thumbs up. The girl started dating in her teen years, and being Princess of the Brief kingdom ensured that each step she took captured on the covers of every gossip and business magazine in Japan. Of course, Bra lives for excitement and loves being in the spotlight. Trivial things like being splashed across the cover of Japan Weekly or Satan City Gossip only boosts her ego. Plus, she moves through men like tissue, too fast sometimes that even Pan has a hard time keeping up. Bra is definitely the best of both Bulma and Vegeta.

"Good afternoon ma'am." Pan quickly tore her concentration from the magazine when the cashier greeted her with a smile.

"Good afternoon," Pan responded almost automatically.

Once all items were bagged and paid, Pan exited the corner grocery and started on her two-block walk home.

She was so grateful to her parents for the apartment. Not only did it put her right in the middle of the city, it was a five-minute walk from Capsule Corps, near plenty of amenities and a public park, and still managed to offer lots of privacy. Though, Pan suspected that Trunks told her parents the news of her being hired beforehand so they could find the perfect apartment. Nonetheless, she loves her new home and her parents, more so.

As Pan neared the apartment complex building, she shifted her grocery bags to one hand to scan her key and open the main doors. She waved to the doorman, who returned the wave, as she strolled by the lobby to push the button for the elevator. An elevator car appeared immediately and took her straight up to the 12th floor.

Once Pan was safely inside her apartment, doors securely locked, she dropped off the grocery bags on the kitchen counter while she continued to her bedroom to change into something more comfortable. On her way back to the kitchen, Pan detoured around the boxes in her living room to insert a CD in the stereo. Nothing beats working to music even when you're not quite listening to it. Once the apron was pulled on, sleeves rolled up and hair pins re-secured, Pan got right to work.

An hour later, Pan paused to survey her handiwork. The table was set with the red wine, two wine glasses and a bowl of fresh sunflowers in the middle, the salad was chilling in the refrigerator, and the stuffed mushrooms were kept warm in the oven while the asparagus and potatoes were just about ready. Most importantly, the back ribs were simmering, and best kept at it for another 15 minutes.

With a quick eye for attention, Pan glanced over at the clock hanging between the kitchen and living room, and winced. It was already ten past seven. She told Trunks 7:30 p.m. and he was rarely late.

Satisfied that nothing was going to explode or spill over, Pan quickly threw off the apron and placed it back on the wall hook before dashing into her bedroom. Stripping along the way and leaving a trial of clothes, she jumped into the shower and came back out just as quick. Rummaging through her drawers, Pan picked out a pair of well-worn jeans and a Satan University t-shirt. She did a quick survey in the dresser mirror while brushing out the tangles in her hair.

Even though it was only dinner with Trunks, who is practically family, Pan didn't like to present herself as anything less than well-groomed and ready. Even with family, sitting down to dinner with dishevelled hair and an unpleasant greasy odour was not polite.

The bell rang just as Pan was replacing her brush back on the dresser. Striding out through the kitchen, she turned off the stove for the asparagus and potatoes before getting the door. She undid the deadbolt and opened the doors to her guest.

"Hey," Trunks greeted with a smile.

"Hey yourself," Pan replied. "Are those for me?" She gestured to the pot of soil in Trunks' hand while stepping aside for him to enter.

"Nope. They're for Goten," Trunks joked, closing the door behind him. "Of course they're for you. Who else would they be for? I figured you haven't gotten too much life out of your apartment yet, so an orchid could make the place a little livelier." Trunks handed the plant to Pan's outstretched arms. He removed his blazer and carelessly draped it over the loveseat before closely scrutinizing the living room. Or rather the condition of the living room.

"Pan, what have you been doing? You moved in nearly four weeks ago, and you still have more than half the boxes scattered all over your living room."

Pan walked by Trunks with a shrug, to carefully place the orchid plant on the dining table next to the sunflowers.

"I didn't have all that much time. Between unpacking and shopping for furniture, I was kind of working overtime for you. I got sidetracked. I've got it handled."

Trunks shook his head as he followed Pan to the kitchen. "If you have it handled, the living room wouldn't be looking like it is right now." He should have known. Pan isn't exactly the most organized person in the world.

Trunks abruptly broke off in mid-thought when his sensitive sense of smell caught the sweet aroma from the kitchen. He sniffed a few more times for good measure.

"Is that what I think it is?"

Pan laughed at the eagerness in Trunks' voice. Food never failed to cause a Saiyan, especially a hungry Saiyan, to run off track. She removed the salad bowl from the refrigerator, added the salad fork she readied on the counter, and grabbed the stuffed mushrooms from the oven. She placed both at the center of the dinning table and gestured Trunks to take his seat as she took hers.

Surprise flickered across Trunks' face as he took his seat. "You didn't have to go through all this trouble."

"It wasn't. Really. Though I did feel somewhat obligated to fancy things up as I did invite the humble Prince to my residence for dinner."

Trunks snorted at the comment. Pan was the last person on Earth that gave any care to his Saiyan-jin royalty status. If anything, she was the one to throw it back in his face when he flaunted it. Trunks poured both of them a half glass of wine while Pan served the salad.

"How's the single 'I-am-on-my-own' life going?"

"Good. Really good. I am definitely enjoying it," Pan replied between mouthfuls. "I like having the extra space to myself, indulging on chocolate whenever I feel like it without Dad or Mom nagging at me, not being interrupted. But I find it too quiet sometimes."

"That's where house parties come in. Though, you won't be able to have one for a while." Trunks waved his fork in the general direction of the living room. Leaning back in his chair, he sampled one of the mushrooms.

"I am getting to it, Uncle."

"Don't you dare call me Uncle," Trunks exclaimed pointing the fork with a half-eaten mushroom at Pan.

"Why not?" Pan retorted. "Technically, you are. Your parents are from my grandparents' generation. You're with my dad and Uncle Goten. That makes you Uncle Trunks and Bra, Auntie Bra." She laughed at her companion's sour expression.

"That just makes me old," Trunks complained. "You know, these mushrooms are really good."

"You haven't seen anything yet."

Pan got up for the kitchen. Removing all the pots from the stove, she started arranging main course. Trunks, chewing on the last mushroom, watched Pan move around fluidly and with purpose several feet from him.

"You've always been a tomboy since you were young, and even though I know you can cook exceptionally well, it is weird seeing you move around the kitchen with so much ease."

"Are you telling me that I am not suited to be a domestic?" Pan asked with a rise of her eyebrow when she returned to the dining table.

"Not in a million years. And I'll eat my own shoes if you tell me that you have a secret childhood dream of becoming a domestic."

"People do change, with time."

Conversation through dinner was never sparse. The two friends debated over the recent political campaign and who they were going to vote for, gossiped about Bra's new boyfriend and secret behind-the-door relationships of people at Capsule Corps, and updated each other on their respective families.

An hour later, dinner was cleared, and cake and coffee was served.

"So the other day when I was walking home from the bookstore a few blocks away, this guy came barrelling towards me on his skateboard. Thank goodness with my reflexes, I avoided the collision. I can't say the same for the poor guy. He got really close with the sidewalk. Being the Good Samaritan and a Son, I helped him up. Next thing I know, he was reciting his phone number to me while blood was running from his nose and forehead. I don't think I've ever experienced such a spontaneous pick-up." Pan laughed at her own story, not noticing Trunks frown.

"Did you give him your number?"

"I though about it, but I couldn't tell if he was cute or not underneath all the blood and sidewalk grim, and he looked a little young. I apologized and told him I was not interested. How often do you hear pick-up stories like that?" Polishing off the remainder of her cake, Pan finally looked up and stared at Trunks.

"Are you alright?"

Trunks mentally shook himself then gave Pan a smile. "I am fine. Had cake between my teeth," Trunks paused. "Even though this neighbourhood is fairly safe and the residents are normal middle-class working people, you still need to be careful. You are a single woman living on her own."

"You forgot single most powerful woman in the universe living on her own," Pan reached across the table to lightly pat his hands. "You worry too much, Trunks. No one slips under my radar."

"On second though, I think I'm more worried about the other party." They both laughed at Trunks' implication.

When it was time to clear the table, Trunks leaned over to take Pan's dessert plate out of her hands. "I'll do the dishes. It's the least I could do after an extraordinary meal."

Pan smiled. She hated washing dishes. "Sure, suit yourself." She refilled her and Trunks' coffee, was about to lounge in the living room when she changed her mind. She swivelled around to lean back on the kitchen island, watching Trunks at the sink. Raising the cup for a long sip, Pan realized that curiosity was getting the best of her.

"I've always wondered something about you."

"Shoot."

"When I was younger and hung out with Bra at your place all the time, not that we don't anymore, the two of us would spy on you whenever you bought a new girl. We had this point-system thing going where we would rate your girlfriends based on appearance, attitude and smarts. Most of them had the first but nothing else. Then we would place each one accordingly on the list of Trunks' Conquers."

Halfway through the ramble, Trunks turned around and gave Pan the most bewildered look. "You two used to spy on me? With my girlfriends? Where?"

"Oh, don't be such a spoilsport. We didn't spy on you in the bedroom, if that's what you meant. Usually we peeked down from Bra's window or from the foyer railings when you came home. It was completely innocent. Two very bored innocent little girls."

"O-kay." Trunks was speechless. He would never have guessed.

"The thing is, the girls didn't last very long. None of them did. You never settled down. Despite the tabloids titling you a careless and thoughtless playboy, I know you're not. You're 36 and still unattached. Why is it?"

A few seconds of silence stretched to a full minute while Trunks finished up the dishes with his back to Pan, silent and a little tensed. She thought he was uncomfortable sharing his love life with her. After all, he never did before and she never asked. Pan was about to tell him to drop it when he spoke up.

"Would you settle for second best because it was available? I can't. I won't. The woman I love would be beautiful, confident, funny, intelligent, and strong-willed with a sense of humour. She is my equal." With a sigh, Trunks slowly turned around with eyes downcast and whispered, "She just doesn't know it yet."

Pan didn't know how to respond. She was both shocked and surprised at Trunks' confession. It felt awfully romantic but lonely. She never knew her friend felt this way. Suddenly, Trunks' last sentence struck Pan's attention.

"Wait a second, 'she just doesn't know it yet'? You mean, you're in love? Like, right now? When? With who? How?"

Trunks lifted his head at Pan's questions. Much to her relief, the loneliness she heard in his voice a moment ago was replaced by his normal friendliness and a touch of tease. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

"If you don't tell me, I'll just hassle Bra."

"Who doesn't know."

"Goten."

"He doesn't either."

Pan started to sulk. Somebody had to know, because she wanted to know. It wasn't hard to see the frustrated state Pan was getting into. This was when a smart person called it quits.

Trunks downed the rest of his coffee then retracted back to the kitchen to rinse.

"We should probably call it a night. We've got that big financial budget presentation tomorrow. You do not want to be late for that.

"I know your team has been working very diligently the past week on the project, and I appreciate it. I know exactly how much overtime you've put in, and I appreciate that too. I know I hired the right person," Trunks complimented. He picked up his blazer from the loveseat, twisted it around to put it on.

"So do I get a raise?"

"Haha," Opening the door and stepping over the threshold, Trunks turned around to pat Pan on the head. "Good night, Panny."

"Good night, Trunks." She rose up on her toes to give Trunks a light kiss on his cheek, like always, smiles exchanged. Pan watched him from the doorway until he disappeared inside an elevator before locking up.

A glance at the clock revealed 9:30 p.m. Just enough time for a few more chapters of the latest romance suspense.