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Shadow's Dance
By NinJinChan
Rated R
Chapter 10
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Jumping into his acclaimed uncle's arms, and consequentially getting spun around and then plopped into a very comfortable position in the lavender haired gentleman's lap, the heir, now with an identifiable name, Jouen, greeted a man very reminiscent, in appearance and personality, by what Goten could decipher so far, to a certain lavender haired gentleman of his own time.
"Oh... I'm sorry. I didn't notice you there. Jouen, will you please introduce me to your guest?" The older man requested.
"Sure!" the heir joyfully answered, seeming more his age now that he was safe inside the castle walls than he had in any of the hours previous. "He is umm... I'm sorry sir. I can't seem to remember your name."
"Son. Son Goten." he answered in monotone, giving no more away than was necessary.
"Oh. Alright. Uncle, meet Mr. Son. Mr. Son, meet Uncle."
"Nice to meet you Son."
"Likewise, I'm sure." Goten replied slowly, letting his words drip off his tongue like so much thick sticky golden honey, the realization of exactly who this man had to be finally dawning on him. "I'd feel rather uncomfortable calling you 'Uncle' however. Is there another name by which I may reference you?"
"Yeah yeah. Sure... Just hold a second" He answered absentmindedly as he began filtering through his desk drawer.
Goten leaned a bit forward, his innate childhood curiosity gaining control of his motor skills, and tried to sneak a peek at what the prince's uncle was searching for.
Suddenly, the purple headed man popped up quickly, a stylus in hand and a small screen rose gracefully from the expensive desk in front of him. Slipping on a pair of glasses, he looked prepared to jot down a few notes.
"What had you said your name was again?" he requested.
"Son. Son Goten."
"Ah, yes. Son Goten... bout 6 foot... black hair..." he mumbled, trailing off and not completing any of his thoughts, but obviously scrawling a physical description of the ebony topped man into the monitor screen. "Done. Now, what was your question?"
"Your name?" Goten prompted, feeling a little violated that his information was being recorded into this man's computer.
"You can call me Trunks. Trunks Briefs."
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Pan leaned in close to the mirror, examine the small red blemish that had seemed to appear overnight between her eyebrows, giving her a 'third eye.' Prodding it once or twice, she lowered her head closer to the reflecting glass, and placing both her index fingers on either side of the offending bump, she squeezed, effectively ridding herself of the obscene rise of irritated flesh.
A disgusting habit she knew, but still, having that spot there really bothered her, and this cleared her of the spot, and although she knew it didn't cause it to heal any faster, it allowed her some ease.
Plus, she had a hot date tonight with the world's most eligible bachelor, a true find indeed. She needed to look her best and having that large obtrusion situated there was definitely not looking her best, so she had to rid herself of it.
Just the thought of her date with him, the god of men, made her swoon--
'Okay okay, so maybe it's not a date.' She finally admitted to herself, bursting her little bubble of wishes and hopes and sending her on a crash course back to reality. 'But it is fun to dream...'
In fact, all it was a little get together between the two of them, discussing her decision to join the 'Capsule Corp Empire' as she referred to it.
With her long time friend's secretary getting married and her husband-to-be an insanely jealous little old bald man, the secretary had to quit at her groom's insistence, causing an opening which needed to be filled.
Thus, confidently, Pan had just graduated school with a major in Public Relations, and although "secretarianism" is not exactly under that, she at least had experience with the press, and Trunks trusted her to take over the old hag's spot.
He was tired of having her, in her late forties, maybe even her early fifties, hit on him uncontrollably. Not that she was anything to look at anyways.
Pan had definitely inherited her mother's figure and she was a great relief compared to the annoying eyesore that was his former secretary.
Anyway, that being beyond the point, little Panny was headed to have a business dinner with Trunks, who although he wasn't in charge of hiring new employees, chose to interview his favorite little girl over a nice big dinner.
An added bonus was that he could ogle her without her noticing, or her father's watchful eye peering down his neck, making him sweat in nervousness like a teenage boy being quizzed by the all seeing eye of his prom date's father as he waits for her to hurry up and get dressed so he can get out of there and escape the alias of hell.
So, here was Pan, swirling around in her bedroom in the upper story of her parent's home, with a dress held up in front of her.
Brand new, it flattered her figure, yet was a little large in the front darts, something that needed to be pulled in before her meeting with 'Mr. President' as she so kindly dubbed him.
Her bosom had not fully developed the way she wished it had.
Slipping the dress into a plastic bag, folding it carefully before doing so, she headed down the stairs and out the front door, calling a quick "Be back later!" to her mother as she left to the tailor's.
Shadow's Dance
By NinJinChan
Rated R
Chapter 10
--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=- -=--=--=--
Jumping into his acclaimed uncle's arms, and consequentially getting spun around and then plopped into a very comfortable position in the lavender haired gentleman's lap, the heir, now with an identifiable name, Jouen, greeted a man very reminiscent, in appearance and personality, by what Goten could decipher so far, to a certain lavender haired gentleman of his own time.
"Oh... I'm sorry. I didn't notice you there. Jouen, will you please introduce me to your guest?" The older man requested.
"Sure!" the heir joyfully answered, seeming more his age now that he was safe inside the castle walls than he had in any of the hours previous. "He is umm... I'm sorry sir. I can't seem to remember your name."
"Son. Son Goten." he answered in monotone, giving no more away than was necessary.
"Oh. Alright. Uncle, meet Mr. Son. Mr. Son, meet Uncle."
"Nice to meet you Son."
"Likewise, I'm sure." Goten replied slowly, letting his words drip off his tongue like so much thick sticky golden honey, the realization of exactly who this man had to be finally dawning on him. "I'd feel rather uncomfortable calling you 'Uncle' however. Is there another name by which I may reference you?"
"Yeah yeah. Sure... Just hold a second" He answered absentmindedly as he began filtering through his desk drawer.
Goten leaned a bit forward, his innate childhood curiosity gaining control of his motor skills, and tried to sneak a peek at what the prince's uncle was searching for.
Suddenly, the purple headed man popped up quickly, a stylus in hand and a small screen rose gracefully from the expensive desk in front of him. Slipping on a pair of glasses, he looked prepared to jot down a few notes.
"What had you said your name was again?" he requested.
"Son. Son Goten."
"Ah, yes. Son Goten... bout 6 foot... black hair..." he mumbled, trailing off and not completing any of his thoughts, but obviously scrawling a physical description of the ebony topped man into the monitor screen. "Done. Now, what was your question?"
"Your name?" Goten prompted, feeling a little violated that his information was being recorded into this man's computer.
"You can call me Trunks. Trunks Briefs."
--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=- -=--=--=--
Pan leaned in close to the mirror, examine the small red blemish that had seemed to appear overnight between her eyebrows, giving her a 'third eye.' Prodding it once or twice, she lowered her head closer to the reflecting glass, and placing both her index fingers on either side of the offending bump, she squeezed, effectively ridding herself of the obscene rise of irritated flesh.
A disgusting habit she knew, but still, having that spot there really bothered her, and this cleared her of the spot, and although she knew it didn't cause it to heal any faster, it allowed her some ease.
Plus, she had a hot date tonight with the world's most eligible bachelor, a true find indeed. She needed to look her best and having that large obtrusion situated there was definitely not looking her best, so she had to rid herself of it.
Just the thought of her date with him, the god of men, made her swoon--
'Okay okay, so maybe it's not a date.' She finally admitted to herself, bursting her little bubble of wishes and hopes and sending her on a crash course back to reality. 'But it is fun to dream...'
In fact, all it was a little get together between the two of them, discussing her decision to join the 'Capsule Corp Empire' as she referred to it.
With her long time friend's secretary getting married and her husband-to-be an insanely jealous little old bald man, the secretary had to quit at her groom's insistence, causing an opening which needed to be filled.
Thus, confidently, Pan had just graduated school with a major in Public Relations, and although "secretarianism" is not exactly under that, she at least had experience with the press, and Trunks trusted her to take over the old hag's spot.
He was tired of having her, in her late forties, maybe even her early fifties, hit on him uncontrollably. Not that she was anything to look at anyways.
Pan had definitely inherited her mother's figure and she was a great relief compared to the annoying eyesore that was his former secretary.
Anyway, that being beyond the point, little Panny was headed to have a business dinner with Trunks, who although he wasn't in charge of hiring new employees, chose to interview his favorite little girl over a nice big dinner.
An added bonus was that he could ogle her without her noticing, or her father's watchful eye peering down his neck, making him sweat in nervousness like a teenage boy being quizzed by the all seeing eye of his prom date's father as he waits for her to hurry up and get dressed so he can get out of there and escape the alias of hell.
So, here was Pan, swirling around in her bedroom in the upper story of her parent's home, with a dress held up in front of her.
Brand new, it flattered her figure, yet was a little large in the front darts, something that needed to be pulled in before her meeting with 'Mr. President' as she so kindly dubbed him.
Her bosom had not fully developed the way she wished it had.
Slipping the dress into a plastic bag, folding it carefully before doing so, she headed down the stairs and out the front door, calling a quick "Be back later!" to her mother as she left to the tailor's.
