DISCLAIMER: I can't even afford a coffee nowadays, you expect me to own DBZ? Well I don't. *I wish I did, smh*

Chapter Three: The Weekend

It had been 3 months since Pan started working as 'Goten's secretary'. It wasn't a bad job: she had a decent salary and she got to spend time with one of her favorite people on earth. Her uncle was very good at his job, and much to her surprise, he kept everything in order. During the day, she was his secretary, running errands and organizing countless meetings. Once everyone else left for the day, Pan was back to being a business process consultant. She was a one-woman team, analyzing the use of resources and manpower, drafting plans for the future structure of Capsule Corps. On top of that, she had the task of convincing the impressionable shareholders who had sided with Idari.

She didn't run into him after the elevator incident. Business did as business does and got very busy, and neither had the time to be fooling around. Avoiding each other was key. Not only did it mean no arguments in the morning, but it also meant that they were less likely to acknowledge the shitshow that went down eight years before. But from her view across the hall she still saw him day in and out, trapped in his office. She wondered if he ever moved from his chair because he was so buried in work. It was enough to handle a company the size of Capsule Corps, and to work on dismantling corruption at the same time? Well it was crazy!

Not that she felt bad for him. Or anything.

Besides, it was the weekend—her first free weekend in weeks! As Pan headed home from her long day at work, she began to plan all the things she would do for the next three days. Her excitement was unparalleled, like a child awaiting gifts from Saint Nicholas. She had plans for a night out with the girls and she couldn't wait to hit the town. But as it would be, the minute she turned the keys, Pan knocked out on her bed and proceeded to sleep for the weeks she had missed.

She joined the living world at around 3 in the morning, her body one with her bed. The city outside was still bustling, with cars honking and people screaming. She scowled as a rowdy group on the curb got louder and louder. It sounded like a fight was about to start as the cries of drunken men reached her room. The window was closed, for Kami's sake! How did she hear it so clearly in her apartment? Covering her head with a pillow did nothing to lessen the disturbance, so she begrudgingly got out of her comfy bed. Oh, how she wished she could go back to her life in Canada! Region 27, she reminisced. Though she could sleep through the night with the incessant distractions, West City still needed some getting used to. It had been so long since she lived the big city life that everything was foreign to her. Even though she worked in the capital of her province back in Canada, she commuted from the suburbs, 30 minutes from the main office. Here, she was surrounded by the hustle and bustle of metropolitan life, which was draining to say the least.

Pan glanced at her phone- 16 missed calls. Bra was going to wring her neck later on. She had forgotten entirely about her promise to go hang out with Bra and Marron. Pan grimaced as she realized she still had the clothes on from earlier in the day. She hated wearing her outside clothes, especially on her bed. Gotta change those sheets later, she thought, making a mental note for herself.

She was a neat freak of sorts, living in her own organized chaos. Pan appreciated a clean room, even though her own remained in constant disarray. There was always a lamp on the floor, mismatched slippers and empty tissue boxes littered across—but her bed was her sanctuary.

It seemed out of place in the disheveled room. It was a queen bed frame fitted with a tall, plush mattress. Her comforters were pristine: always clean and fluffy, and always neatly arranged. She prided herself in keeping her bed in perfect condition. It was the only thing she could really control in her life. Her job was unpredictable, and her family was the definition of strange and the rest of her life was just as crazy as her apartment. Though Pan loved the life she made for herself, she couldn't help but wish for a little more simplicity.

She peeled off her work clothes and tossed it in the laundry bin in the corner of her room. She slipped on a robe and grabbing a fresh towel, she hopped into the shower and turned on the water. It would take a while before it was hot so Pan decided she would start her weekend with a little late night pampering. She was going to shave her legs, exfoliate her body and use her favorite smell goods! Pan was already giddy at the thought of slipping into fresh sheets with a freshly pampered self. She worked her ass off day and night—she deserved it!

Showers were the best place to think, but thinking was the last thing on her mind. Because if Pan let herself think, her mind would wander to a certain purple haired asshole she shared a workspace with. Stepping into the shower, she let the warm water cascade over her body. She began to work on her pamper session, grabbing her exfoliant and rubbing it all over her body

Pan never thought she would see Trunks again in her life. Well, not never, but for a good period of time—not 5 years! And definitely not while working for him! The very thought of Trunks made her blood boil! She scowled as she switched her products to shave her legs. Granted, she didn't always hate him. They were good friends at one point, best friends even. Growing up they were inseparable, despite their difference in age.

But what had changed?

What had driven the two so far apart? Her heart ached, her chest heavy with regret. Not a day passed by that she didn't remember what had happened, no matter how hard she tried to forget. Being back didn't help at all, it made is worse. {Obviously, Pan,} she thought. {Did you think it was going to be flowers and sprinkles?} The warm water made its way through her hair, slowly soothing her pains as it took away the suds and conditioner.

Could they ever be the same?

Stepping out of the shower, Pan wrapped herself in her towel and proceeded to work on her hair. She used to hate her curly hair growing up. It was disobedient and had a mind of its own. She constantly was made fun of at school. Kids were mean and loved pointing out differences in people. Pan was the crazy strong girl with the outrageous curls and terrible temper. Boys were scared of her and girls were cruel in their incessant jabs. Her grandfather wasn't the most observant person out there, but he knew when something was up with his granddaughter. It was he who had given her the orange bandana made from her gi to hold back her mane. You're a warrior, Pan. A Saiyan warrior. Always remember that. To embrace your qualities and to make your weaknesses your strengths: that's what makes a warrior great. And Saiyan warriors hold their beauty in a different way. Don't fall into the nonsense these girls are talking about—you're gorgeous no matter what. Hey, at least you don't have my hair. Now that would be tragic!

It was those words that carried her through her childhood. They gave her a new strength, a new determination. She was going to be the strongest warrior possible, and she wasn't going to let anyone get in the way of her goal.

Anyone but herself.

Funny how the demons inside are uglier than the ones you see outside.

She looked outside the window to see the sky beginning to open its eyes. The sun had not yet risen completely, but far into the horizon, one could see the faint outline of the star. In her bathroom, the clock's hands pointed to five- she used to train at this time years before. Lightly squeezing her arms, she sighed in disappointment. She had really let herself go. Why did she ever stop what she had loved so much?

Growing up, Pan hated how her father disapproved of her training. He used to be the strongest in their side of the universe, for Kami's sake! Everyone went on about the stories of his immense strength and power, but Pan saw none of it. If it was ever there, he had wasted it all. Her father was attached to his books and gave little care for anything else. As much as he would deny it, Gohan was the mirror image of his mother. Education was the most important thing for him. He entertained Pan in the idea of training her, but after a few years he refused to continue her lessons.

"Pan, it's a distraction! You need to stop sneaking out to train! How will you ever pass your exams if you don't study?!" Gohan shouted.

The 12-year-old rolled her eyes, her father didn't want her to be a weakling like Trunks, right? "Dad, what do you mean, of course I'll study! I always study. But you gotta let me train, you just gotta! It's not fair! What if something bad happens like all the stuff Grandpa told me about? How are we gonna fight against it?" she argued stubbornly.

Gohan felt his hand collide with her face before he could stop himself. A seed of remorse had already planted itself in his heart. The force of his blow left his hand stinging, and he could see his daughter's face begin to flush red. He didn't need her to cry out to know he had hurt her.

Pan clutched her cheek, tears quickly forming in her eyes. Did- did her father just slap her?

"Pan, I will not hear that excuse." He warned, regaining his composure. "We are fine. There is nothing to be afraid of. You want to waste your time training for some imaginary threat—fine by me. But when you realize your mistake, it'll be too late." He warned, turning to leave the room. The door slammed shut and with it the echo of her father's words.

Too late indeed. Pan had begun to shut off her heart and her willingness to fight her father was diminishing.

It was Vegeta who saw the girl's potential. He insisted that he was bored and needed a punching bag, but everyone knew it was for the soft spot in his heart for Pan. He would never admit it, but amongst them all, she had the most Saiyan spirit. He trained her every day for years alongside his own children, refining her talent and honing her abilities. She became the finest fighting machine, a product of his own making, and Pan was eternally grateful for her sensei.

Maybe he deserved a visit.

She rummaged through her closet to find the one thing she was looking for—her workout gear. She admired her physique in the full-length mirror that stood in her room. She still looked good. The black sleeveless spandex top fit just as she remembered. Granted, she had a little more pudge than she used to, but she appreciated the curves she had gained. The black leggings accentuated every muscle. Her calves were as toned as ever, that part of her never changed. Her body was ready for a good sparring session, no matter how out of practice she was. It was late enough for her to catch the next bus to Capsule Corps, but it was still dark enough outside for her to sneak out unnoticed. Standing at the edge of her balcony with a bag in hand, Pan breathed in the cool morning air. Her nerves tingled with excitement as her ki radiated through her body, centering itself at the soles of her feet. It pushed her up hesitantly, testing the now unfamiliar waters. It had been so long since she had last flown anywhere. Her years in Canada had forced her into adopting a more mundane lifestyle. But now she was home, she was free; she could train, she could fly.

And so she did.

…

Pan arrived at Capsule Corps a few minutes later, landing in the secluded garden towards the back of the compound. Knowing her sensei, he probably sensed her ki and was anticipating her arrival. She made her way through the lush greenery to the large metal dome that buzzed with fervor. She was right—he still trained at the same time. Grabbing an apple from a nearby tree, she wiped it off on her shirt and bit into it as she walked up to the gravity room. The panel on the side of the flashed yellow, signaling that the gravity simulator was engaged. Pressing the red button at the bottom of the panel, Pan temporarily disabled the gravity. She could hear the obscene string of curses from within. It caused her heart to swell with happiness—she was finally going to train with her sensei after all these years! The doors opened to reveal the said disgruntled man. Behind him, Pan could see the obliterated training bots littered across the floor. She chuckled inwardly: Bulma must have had a hard time keeping up with an adequate amount of training supplies for the Saiyan prince. She looked up at him with the characteristic Son grin plastered on her face.

"I'm ba—" she started, quickly cut off by the annoyed man in front of her.

"Useless brat, save the sweet talk for someone who gives a shit. You, gravity room, now." He growled, stomping into the white expanse. Vegeta didn't need to turn around to still see the stupid grin on her face and Pan didn't need to see his face to know he was smiling too.

Pan knew she was out of shape, but she didn't know she was this bad. It had been almost 2 hours of non-stop sparring and she was ready to drop. Her legs were wobbly, her breathing ragged. Sweat dripped all over her body and she was sure that if her gear was in any other color, it would all show. Vegeta, on the other hand, looked as bored as ever. He hadn't even worked up a sweat, much to no one's surprise. To be honest, the fact that she couldn't keep up with him slightly disappointed him. His protégée had let herself go, and for what? He couldn't understand certain people, and Pan was one of them.

She had such faith in humanity that she couldn't realize it was taking her away from herself. He barely recognized the woman before him. She could hardly breathe, and her face was as red as the fruit they called 'tomato' on this mudball. He sighed, turning down the gravity from 300 G to a calm 5 G. Almost immediately, Pan's lungs gave out, a trapped breath escaping her that she had not known she was holding in. The pressure of the gravity was gone, but it was replaced by another—guilt. She knew she had disappointed Vegeta. Heck, she disappointed herself! She never would have thought two hours of sparring would tire her out that easily! She watched as the room slowly normalized to Earth's gravity. Vegeta pressed the button to release the doors that connected to the main house. Outside in the hallway were two cleaning bots, one to provide a towel for the prince and the other to repair the mess he left behind.

He turned to the demi Saiyan and placed a hand on her shoulder "Oi, get your lazy ass up and get the hell out of my GR," he ordered. Pan rolled her eyes. She wasn't about to throw in the towel—she knew she had more in her. She had to. .

"No," she said breathlessly, "No, seriously Vegeta: I'm fine. L-Let's just go for another round, I can do it, I'm not gonna give up!"

Vegeta sighed. There was something about that brat that annoyed him to no end. She was like a stubborn insect that wouldn't go away no matter how hard you tried to repel it. Her fighting spirit, her Saiyan spirit: she never gave in when she fought. He respected her greatly for that alone. She fought hard, no matter how great the obstacle. If only she applied that mentality outside of training; she'd be better off than she was now. Shaking his head, he extended his hand out to her. "Listen you insufferable nitwit, you're wasting my time. Now get up right this instant before I blast your ass into the next dimension!"

She glared at him with a ferocity that chilled his blood. Pan hated when people saw her as a weakling. But she had to be honest with herself: Vegeta was right. As much as she hated to admit it, she could feel her body giving in to the stress of her efforts. It had been 4 years since she last trained and to start off at 300 G—the pressure she would endure in her warm ups before—was too much. Reluctantly, she took his hand and got up from the cold flooring. The stench of sweat overwhelmed her senses: she really did need that shower.

By the time she'd washed up and gotten ready, the sun had risen and the city had begun to awake. Pan frowned. They had only trained for an hour—it felt like it was so much more! She made her way down the stairs, unraveling the towel turban. The smell of breakfast greeted her from the top of the stairs. Her stomach growled in reply, coaxing her to hurry to the kitchen.

"Mmmh, eggs, bacon, french toast—and is that fresh mango I smell?" she said, tousling her curls with her towel. "Vegeta, you really outdid yourself! Your favorite student has only been gone a few years you know—"

To her surprise—if Vegeta cooking wasn't a surprise enough—the man of the hour was not her dear sensei, but his son. She froze in her tracks, her dripping hair long forgotten. Why her heart was pounding, she couldn't say. She seemed to forget all her words in that very moment. It wasn't until he broke the silence, his words careful with a hint of sarcasm.

"Good morning sunshine."

Why he woke up in his parents' house, he couldn't say. He usually avoided that place like hellfire. Bulla was one to harass him about his recent tabloid scandal and his mother wasn't afraid to put in her two *very cruel* cents. His father would barely acknowledge him unless it was for a quick spar. It wasn't like he didn't deserve it. He had dropped off the face of the earth for a whole year before anyone had heard from him. When he came back drunk and disheveled, his mother had cried for three days straight. She forced him to clean up his act and reassume his position at Capsule Corps. His days were spent at work and his nights were accompanied by bottles of liquor.

Last night was different. He had left work at around two in the morning. He had been working nonstop for a week and it was the first day he had left after 3 days holed up in the office. Tired could not even describe the fatigue that infiltrated every part of his body. Still, he decided to take his car and drive his way home. Without thinking, he found himself at his parents' house. Too exhausted to make his way to his apartment, he decided to take a nap in his old bedroom to leave before anyone realized he was there. His little nap turned into a full night's rest and he woke up the next morning to his mother throwing a towel and soap at him

"You stink!" she had told him, pinching her nose as she entered his old room. And he did—he had a shower at work, but he barely had time to shower before the executives came in. He had been slacking, he knew it was disgusting. But it was his first free weekend in months. If it wasn't his regular workload, it was working on his project with Goten. He was thoroughly overworked, and it had taken a toll on him.

It was during his shower that he felt a familiar ki rise in the building. Pan. He could tell she was sparring with his father—how typical of her. It brought back old memories, those he tried to repress. It reminded him of days to which he could never return to, where things were easier, lighter; more innocent.

He knew he would run into her. She would have to take a shower and it was already morning so she couldn't fly out in the open. Knowing her training habits, she would go down for breakfast with his father and his mother would join in later with a cup of coffee. But today, he would be there. And he didn't know how she would take it.

His mother had told him to make breakfast in exchange for 'stinking up her house'. Now Trunks had planned to leave as soon as possible, but he knew his mother would never let it down. And plus—he wouldn't dare let his mother cook for him. So he went down to the kitchen and started to prepare breakfast. The fridge was well stocked, as always. He grabbed the eggs and began to make his 'famous scrambled eggs' which were only famous because they tasted better than anything Bulma could whip up. By the time he finished cooking, most of the house was awake and getting ready.

He heard her before he saw her.

Trunks looked up at the sound of her voice. It was playful, lighthearted—but the joy that filled the air wasn't meant for him. His heart ached with this realization. Maybe once before, but not now. It would never be for him. When she finally reached the kitchen, her face was pale, writ with pain and confusion. Her dark curls, heavy with water, began to leave a puddle on the floor, the towel in her hand long forgotten. A heavy silence settled in the room as they stared at one another, unable to react. He decided it was best for him to break the ice, choosing his words with caution. It was easier to be 'playful yet offensive' than to let his heart speak the words he had longed to say.

'Sunshine'.

Her cheeks flushed at the mention of her former nickname. Sunshine. It had once been endearing but now it was like a smack in the face. Working together had done nothing to mend their broken relationship. If anything, it made things worse. They avoided each other like the plague; their conversation limited to the inane arguments that graced the floor each week. With each passing day, the tension between the two grew thicker and thicker. He knew sooner or later it would be too difficult to breathe. To exist.

To know that the one that once held his heart was so close, yet so far.

To know that her heart, once filled with undying love, was wrought with hatred.

It pained him to no end.

But what he didn't know was that she felt the same.

Neither of them did.

"Sunshine? Really, Mr. Briefs? You're rude even outside the workplace." She said, attempting to keep her cool. Her heart was beating rapidly, her breath uneven. Why did it have to be him of all people? Sure, it was his parents' house, but Trunks was a person who avoided his family like nobody's business. He hated people who meddled, and the Briefs were no exception.

But he was here.

And so was she.

He stared at her, eyes alit with curiosity and confusion. He was playing with her, wasn't he? But why did his eyes tell another story?

Why was it for a second—just a second—she thought she saw a glimpse of pain?

"I wasn't aware my employees were allowed to roam freely in my parents' home, but we all have had our fair share of surprises, now haven't we Ms. Son?" he replied coolly.

She scowled, bending down to wrap her hair with the towel she had dropped. She was stuck. Was she to leave or stay? Pan knew she had to make her decision fast. Why today of all days? Flipping her head up, the towel secure on her head, she stared angrily at the man before her. Damn it, why can't I just leave? But Pan had a warrior's spirit—if she left, she would admit defeat. But if she stayed and stood her ground, he would most definitely use the delicious breakfast spread before her as his weapon. As a Son, she would never let him taunt her with something as precious as food. Goku taught her better than that. At least, I think he did, Pan thought to herself.

For a while they stood there, each daring the other to make the first move, to back down and walk away with their tail between their legs. To be honest, the whole situation was making Trunks uncomfortable, and he knew it was the same for her too. Vegeta walked in behind her, glancing at the two enemies. He rolled his eyes, My own son and my protégée—never thought they were so childish. Grabbing a tray of eggs and sausage, he smacked his son at the back of his head. Trunks cursed, glaring at the shorter man taking a seat at the kitchen table.

"As much as I would love to entertain you lovebirds and your little staring contest, you," Vegeta said pointing at Pan, "Need to go see the other brat. She's been harassing that blasted cellular device all morning about how inept you are and frankly I'm fucking tired of it. Your problem now. I'm done with it."

Pan rolled her eyes, silently thanking her best friend as she grabbed a piece of toast from Vegeta's plate. "Thank you, sensei," she whispered, giving the man a peck on the check. He grimaced, wiping away at the spot.

"May Kakkarot and his demented offspring rot in hell." He grumbled as he reached for his fork."And you, disgraceful spawn of mine, your bacon is burning."

"Shit!" Trunks cursed, turning off the heat and carefully inspecting his spoiled meal. Pan seized her chance to escape and ran off to the front door to meet Bulla. Vegeta shook his head in disappointment. Those two had a long way to go.

A/N: SEVEN PAGES AND OVER 4 THOUSAND WORDS?! It's not my best work, but so far it's been the hardest chapter to write. I have all these ideas for future chapters but I just couldn't figure out how to flesh this part out. So if it's kind of awkward and weird, I apologize, I just really wanted to get this out before February was over. I hope you enjoy, and I'd really appreciate to hear feedback from you guys!