Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Ball Z or any of its characters.

--

Definition(s);

1. Onna: Woman

2. Sama: This word is used to call people who you respect highly, like emperors or gods.

--

Bold—Thoughts

"Blah... Blah... Blah..."—Talking


Chapter 7: Bittersweet Surrender

When Trunks opened bath house doors, he was nowhere near prepared for the sight that greeted his eager eyes; in the dark water was the woman he'd been searching for. His blood ignited into flames of desire as he watched her innocently relax. The servants—as he'd rather call them—rubbed every inch of her smooth skin and Pan seemed to be enjoying it as she leaned into their skilled fingers.

His gaze traced the enticing curve of her perfectly rounded breasts and he searched for more, but the opaque water kept her lower body hidden from his view. He suddenly felt like a peeping tom and tried to stare at something else other than Pan's attractive facial features, the smooth planes of her toned stomach or the fullness of her breasts, but his eyes refused to budge and remained glued to the young Saiyan female he met earlier, who'd somehow entranced him with her beauty and wicked mouth.

The servants stopped touching Pan and stifled gasps of surprise when they saw Trunks standing in the doorway. Pan—oblivious to Trunks' presence and his raging ki—opened her eyes to investigate why the servants had stopped rubbing her tender skin.

"Hey, why'd you stop?" Pan pouted childishly, turning to look at the servants.

When she noticed their eyes directed at something—rather, someone—other than herself, she followed their line of vision.

"Trunks," she breathed.

Trunks smirked and Pan had almost forgotten about the smirk she'd become so used to—she'd almost forgotten about the smirk she loved to hate and hated to love.

"Finally, I've found you and you're not getting away this time. You are mine," Trunks whispered, his blue eyes reflecting his hunger.

Reflexively, Pan crossed her arms over her exposed breasts to grant herself some modesty; she failed to realize she was giving Trunks a better view of her cleavage.

"Get out," she stated calmly.

Her tone of voice bothered Trunks and he might've hesitated if he hadn't seen how much her eyes betrayed her; he could tell that she was angry by the way her ki was rapidly rising.

No, you moron. She's seething! Trunks' conscience screamed furiously.

He couldn't stop himself from noticing the way her blush spread feverishly—like wild fire—across her cheeks and neck. Sensing the tension, the slaves left the room, but Pan didn't seem to notice. Intrigued by her behavior, he started towards the warm water.

"I–I said g–get out!" Pan choked out.

Trunks reached the bathtub in a few, quick steps and laughed at her flushed face. He slid into the water, not caring that he was getting his spandex wet. Instinctively, Pan backed into the tub's tiled wall; her eyes darted around the room for—what Trunks guessed to be—a means of escape.

"St–stay back!" Pan shouted, shooting some lazy ki blasts at Trunks; he was able to easily dodge them and quickly came to the conclusion that Pan's intent was not to harm him.

Why doesn't she want to hurt me? Trunks thought, confused.

Daring himself, he trudged over to the raven-haired temptress until he was mere inches away from her face.

"Wh–why are you doing this to me? Haven't I suffered enough?" Pan asked softly, her eyes brimming with tears she refused to shed.

Taken aback, Trunks stared at Pan through clouded eyes.

"I–I don't understand," he answered honestly.

He couldn't understand why he felt so compelled to answer Pan, but something within him felt connected to her; it was like he'd seen her before, but he quickly dismissed the ridiculous notion.

"I–I know you don't. It's..." Pan paused and swallowed the lump in her throat as she blinked her tears away furiously. "It's complicated."

Trunks stared into her eyes for a long moment, Complicated? What does she mean? This onna is so complex... but I intend to solve that complexity.

Trunks placed his hand behind Pan's neck and pulled her close to him; she was so close, he felt her breasts molding into his chest. Stifling a groan, he could feel Pan's muscles tense as he proceeded his curious exploration. Placing his nose in the crook of her neck, he inhaled deeply. Feeling drunk off of her scent, he was nowhere near ready for the reaction his next words would cause.

"You smell intoxicating," Trunks breathed, nuzzling Pan's neck.

He didn't see the way her jaw clenched—he didn't see the fire in her eyes before she raised her hand to strike him, but he did feel her muscles contract and her ki flare violently; he looked up just in time to see a blow heading straight for his jaw.

x-X-x

"Vegeta-sama," he began by bowing traditionally. "May I have a word with you?"

"Bardock," Vegeta started lazily as he took a seat on his throne.

"You and I know damn well that you'd speak even without my consent," Vegeta rolled his eyes and waved his hand, indicating that Bardock should rise.

"It's about Fringo's son," Bardock started. "He wishes to—"

"—Mate with my daughter. I know that already. Get to the point!" Vegeta said, cutting Bardock off.

"It seems that the polls have been drawn up; a high percentage of the mated population would like to see Princess Bra mated with Fringo's son," Bardock finished.

Vegeta's temper flared violently, but beyond his fury, he was more than a little unsettled.

"What polls? Was there a survey sent out behind my back?!" Vegeta roared at Bardock.

First, I hear that some woman beat fourty fucking men and now I hear about this–this poll? What the hell is wrong with the world? Vegeta's muscles contracted violently.

Bardock waited for Vegeta to calm down before deciding to speak again, "Actually, Toma's been trained very well, sire. He's possibly the fifth strongest man on this planet."

"You know how I feel about Toma," Vegeta spat out, meeting Bardock's surprised gaze; he was sure to remind Bardock of his place.

"Yes. Of course, sire," Bardock bowed once more and left the throne room in a hurry.

x-X-x

"Oof," Trunks exhaled as Pan's fist connected with his jaw.

He slid back a few feet, but quickly righted himself.

"What was that for?" Trunks shouted angrily, trying to hide the agony he was feeling as he rubbed his tender jaw.

"For being a–a jerk," Pan countered, taking refuge in the water.

Trunks scowled at her reply, but secretly found the situation amusing as he looked down at her.

"What did I do to you now? Did I hurt your self-esteem with my compliment?" Trunks asked, his voice laced with sarcasm.

"What I did was for the best," Pan answered petulantly, sticking her nose up in the air, even though she was being looked down upon. "You weren't thinking clearly. My seasoning or whatever you guys call it was making you act irrationally."

"No mere female could control my advanced brain, little girl," Trunks laughed loudly.

In embarrassment, Pan found herself up to her nose in the water; she was surprised that the water wasn't boiling from the heat radiating off of her angry body.

"What?" Trunks smirked, dropping to his knees.

"You have nothing to say?" Trunks teased softly; there was something about the way he teased her that made her feel like he was ridiculing her.

I hate that smirk, Pan thought, grounding her teeth together in agitation.

However, when Trunks brushed the wet tendrils out of her eyes, Pan wondered why she'd been angry in the first place. After all, his hands were so soothing—

—In an irritating way, of course, she thought furiously.

When Trunks took off one of his silver-tipped gloves to fix her disheveled locks, all of her thoughts disappeared.

"You're so easy," Trunks laughed at Pan's cat-like response; there was something about the way she brushed her face against his hand that made his knees grow weak.

Pan's eyes opened at Trunks' comment and a flush broke across her features.

"Easy?" Pan echoed, her eyes wide.

Trunks frowned and opened his mouth to explain, but Pan wouldn't listen.

"I'm easy?!" She shrieked, her eyes narrowing.

"Well, you're not exactly in control either," she scoffed, referring to the obvious bulge in Trunks' spandex.

Eyes wide, Trunks opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out; his voice failed him.

"What?" Pan mocked. "You have nothing to say?"

She laughed with a remarkably good impression of the one Trunks had used earlier.

"You–you wench!" His eyes narrowed when she continued to laugh at him.

Growling lowly, he wound his fingers through her thick hair and pushed her down into the water. When she'd been down long enough, he pulled her out of the water.

"I hate you!" Pan screeched; before she could wipe the hair out of her eyes, Trunks pushed her back into the water.

"That's not nice," he purred, a playful smirk adorning his features.

His lavender tail swayed back and forth, splashing little droplets of water everywhere. When Trunks brought her up for air, Pan took the opportunity to bite his hand with as much strength as she could muster.

"Ouch! You bitch!" Trunks hissed, waving his hand around furiously as he tried to get rid of the stinging sensation.

"You shouldn't have dunked me!" Pan spluttered, her eyes bright.

He leaned forward, bringing himself nose-to-nose with Pan.

"Address me with respect," he growled.

"No," she hissed.

Trunks blinked in surprise.

"No?" He asked wickedly.

He changes his tone so fast, it makes me dizzy, Pan thought with a small frown.

Opting to stay defiant, she crossed her arms and turned her nose up in the air, "No."

She knew that she'd pushed Trunks to the limit with her defiance and just when she thought he'd retaliate, he struck her. To Pan's surprise, it was not with his hand; it was with his hungry kiss.

x-X-x

"No!" He shouted, throroughly annoyed.

"But, Vegeta," she whined childishly.

"I will not lower my daughter to such a–a thing," he ground out through clenched teeth; he knew he was fighting a losing battle.

"She wants to compete!" She argued, placing her hands on her hips in strong willed defiance. "It'll be obvious that her presence will only be for sport! And if she wins, then Trunks won't have to take a mate."

"Onna," Vegeta growled in defeat. "The brat will eventually need an heir."

Vegeta rubbed his temples, trying to block out Bulma's voice.

"But, Vegeta, you needed an heir too. And–and look at how things worked out between us!" Bulma protested.

"Yeah, I'm stuck with a loud-mouthed woman for all of eternity. I don't wish that on anyone," Vegeta said, grinning wickedly at Bulma's flushed face.

"Loud-mouthed? You were praising me and my loud mouth twenty minutes ago," Bulma purred seductively, catching Vegeta pleasantly off-guard.

Trunks was right, Vegeta thought as his brain momentarily shut down. His mother shouldn't have been able to walk years ago.

x-X-x

Back on Chikyuu

As she gazed out the window, her heart ached for her lost daughter.

"Pan," she breathed out into the warm, summer night; anguish was evident in her tone.

It had been a full, agonizing week since Pan had disappeared.

"—Will be back," Gohan told his wife reassuringly.

Although his exterior betrayed his inner worries and ache, Gohan saw that it was his duty to console his unstable wife. Taking off his work clothes, he folded the bed sheets back to prepare it for use.

"How can you say that?!" Videl raged, standing up. "Our daughter is God knows where and all you can say is, she'll be back?! How can youWhy did she—Oh, God, why?" Videl began to sob for the umpteenth time that day; Gohan was sure to catch Videl as her knees became unstable.

Trunks, Gohan inwardly raged. I will slowly and painfully kill you for this. Then, I'm going to wish you back to kill you again!

Gohan postponed his rage as Videl began to wail loudly. For the rest of the unpeaceful night, they mourned over their lost daughter.

Come back, Panny. We need you, Gohan thought, falling into a dreamless sleep.