Trunks awoke, yawing a huge roar. Groggily he sat up, adjusted his undershirt and got up in his boxers. He looked around, half asleep.
"Where is my sword?" He awoke automatically, searching his room. It wasn't there. Scrambling, he got to his knees, and looked under his bed. Nope, not there either. A light went off in his head. "Mom must have stuck it in the old room." He stretched, and padded out of his room.
He opened the door, and was met with the sounds of soft breathing. He face faulted. She was in his bed…well, his old bed. He blinked. She was wearing his pants too! Then he put it together. "Mother." He sighed. Ha ha. Way to plot. Put the last Saiyajin female in your bed, put your most prize possession in the same room and-POOF! Instant Bulma-arranged love.
He scratched his purple locks, looking around. He spotted the sword, at the end of the bed. Reaching forward, he bumped the bed. He froze. "Screw…" he muttered, hoping she didn't wake up. 'No, I'm not a stalker I just like watching girls while they are sleeping.' He thought of the situation if she woke up. Instead she stirred, bringing her shirt a little higher on her chest. He blushed, grabbed the sword, and ran.
Bulma walked down the hall, blue hair drawn up an a loose bun. She hummed perkily. "I get to makeup my Pan! Pan! Makeup! Hmmm! Hmmm!" She sang happily. She had always wanted a daughter to dress up and talk about guys. She had tried to do Trunks' makeup once…but for some reason it didn't go over well.
She shrugged, and threw open Pan's door.
"Wake up, Saiyajin brat!" She yelled. A groggy Pan jumped, and sat up with disheveled hair. It was so cute. "Ugg." She flopped back down.
"No no no!" Bulma said, taking an arm and dragging her up. "We have to make you for Chichi!"
She dragged her into the shower, and blasted the water on cold. An ear splitting howl could be heard throughout the CC that morning.
"Is this going to take long?" A freezing Pan asked, yelling over the running water.
"Nope! Maybe 30 minutes!" Bulma yelled back, assembling beauty supplies on her counter, with a close to psychotic look on her face.
~*7 hours later*~
"Ouch! My hair!"
"Powder! NOOOOO!" ~*cough cough*~
"Hey! That gel is moving!"
"Chill out Pan!" Bulma said, applying a last touch of lipstick. Pan wrinkled her nose, resisting the urge to push it away.
"This is not cool." She moaned, blowing a stray curl out of her face. Half of the time it took Bulma was because of the evilness of her Saiyajin hair. Somehow, they had managed to curl it. She sat on a stool, in one of Bulma's strapless shirts. It hung loosely around her shoulders.
"Hold very still…" Bulma commanded through a mouth full of bobby pins. She dabbed on mascara on to Pan's lashes and concentrated. "You know Pan." She said, staring at her up close. "You have so much of Gohan in you… and your mother must have been beautiful."
"She was." A tightness in her throat constricted. She fiddled with the light blue strands of soft material on her shirt.
"What?! Is that a tear I see!?" Bulma said, gently wiping it away. Then, "Bulma" mode hit. "You better not cry anymore! You will smear the makeup!" Pan laughed, smiling a little.
Bulma stood back and looked at her, admiring her work. Pan wiggled a little, uncomfortable under such a scrutinizing gaze. Hmph. She probably looked like a circus clown.
Just then, Bulma saw a flash of blue out of the corner of her eye. She smiled slighty. "Listen." She told Pan hastily, "I am going to go get ready. Wait here." She walked out the room, pretending not to see Trunks as he lounged in the doorway.
***
The lavender haired man watched his mother slink away. He rolled his eyes, knowing she thought she was planning something big. Heh. He knew what she was up to.
He peeked around the corner, and watched Pan look at herself in the mirror.
"Oh my god…" He heard her whisper, leaning into the mirror over a dresser. "I look like…mom." She touched her cheeks softly, and for some reason Trunks' heart softened. Even at this angle he could see the glassy shimmer over her eyes. Immediately he felt intrusive, and in a way...protective. Like he needed to protect the small creature in front of him.
He ran his hands through his hair, suddenly nervous. He stepped into the room, and as he did, a floor board creaked. She whipped around quickly, and the look on her face, would be forever stuck in his mind.
Her hair was done in a more dressier way, not quite curly. A tear streamed down her cheek, but she quickly wiped it away. Her eyes took on a stony look, and she asked with a voice defiantly not friendly.
"Where you spying on me?" She crossed her arms, a new look of confidence taking over her features.
Trunks' mouth opened and closed like a fish." I..I..no..yes..I mean-"
She laughed a little, running an eye over Trunks carefully. He felt the heat rise to his cheeks, and he wished he could bolt right now. She raised an eyebrow at the color.
"Are you nervous?" She asked, clearly amused. Trunks swallowed. "Er, I don't think this is going in a good direction." He thought. His instincts were telling him something he couldn't place. Instead, as smart as he was, answered. "No. Why would I be?"
Her smile widened. She could have a little fun with his embarrassment, she thought happily plotting his demise. 'Fine. I don't know why your attitude changes Trunks.' She thought in her mind 'But I hope you figure it out soon, because I am about to take full advantage of it.'
Trunks didn't like the look in her eyes. It was sneaky. Unconsciously he took a step back. She kept walking forwards. She raised a finger slowly, tracing it on his white tank top. His eyes widened. "Uh…" He said gulping. Did he mention his embarrassment around women?
"Shhh." She purred into his ear. He could feel her lips smile, and her breath on his ear.
"Who are you Trunks? Why won't you let anyone close to you?" She asked, leaning as close to him as she could get. She wrapped her hands around his neck.
"But most importantly." She continued, turning her face to look into his eyes. "Why are you nervous?" She pecked him on the cheek, and laughed. She pranced happily, like a school child who had found candy.
She walked out of the room, still laughing. "You can back off of the wall now!" She shouted back at him through the hallway.
Trunks let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. "Ah, screw." He muttered, annoyed. She had played him over well, like a little game. "Ah screw." He puzzled over her delightment at his distress.
"All is fair in love and war." He recited, wondering in which they were playing in.
A figure stood, halo overhead watching the lake critically. Another stood close by, laughing gleefully.
"Hey, would ya look at that, Vegeta? Who would have thought, my granddaughter and your son!" He smiled goofily, watching their fleeting figures on the mirror lake, their window into the living world.
Vegeta humphed, crossing his arms. " As gross as it is for me to think about my blood entwined with yours…" He shivered " At least they will produce a decent heir." He smirked, thinking of Saiyajin brown tailed babies.
"How do you know that they are going to have kids? I mean, heck its not like they are serious or anything." Goku glanced down at the picture, thinking.
Vegeta sneered. 'I don't have to explain my thinking to you, Kakkorot. Be lucky I let you stand in my presence, and do not strain yourself deciphering the inner workings of my royal mind."
"Yeah, whatever Vegeta." Goku laughed, taking a last glance at the window-pool. "You know, I was hoping I could see Chichi this time."
"Yes, I wanted to see Bulma…" Vegeta replied, not remembering Goku was there. "I mean, I hope she hasn't killed anyone with her cooking yet…" He covered his mistake to Goku, who only smiled.
"I miss them all too." He nodded gravely, and walked back across the endless miles of clouds that was heaven. Vegeta still watched the mirror intently, hoping for any glance of a certain blue haired woman…or perhaps one of his purple haired son.
hey guys, this took long. I know. Please review, it is really appreciated especially now since the hit recording is gone. Email me at kureeji@yahoo.com
www.geocities.com/fushigi_mirai_pan
"Where is my sword?" He awoke automatically, searching his room. It wasn't there. Scrambling, he got to his knees, and looked under his bed. Nope, not there either. A light went off in his head. "Mom must have stuck it in the old room." He stretched, and padded out of his room.
He opened the door, and was met with the sounds of soft breathing. He face faulted. She was in his bed…well, his old bed. He blinked. She was wearing his pants too! Then he put it together. "Mother." He sighed. Ha ha. Way to plot. Put the last Saiyajin female in your bed, put your most prize possession in the same room and-POOF! Instant Bulma-arranged love.
He scratched his purple locks, looking around. He spotted the sword, at the end of the bed. Reaching forward, he bumped the bed. He froze. "Screw…" he muttered, hoping she didn't wake up. 'No, I'm not a stalker I just like watching girls while they are sleeping.' He thought of the situation if she woke up. Instead she stirred, bringing her shirt a little higher on her chest. He blushed, grabbed the sword, and ran.
Bulma walked down the hall, blue hair drawn up an a loose bun. She hummed perkily. "I get to makeup my Pan! Pan! Makeup! Hmmm! Hmmm!" She sang happily. She had always wanted a daughter to dress up and talk about guys. She had tried to do Trunks' makeup once…but for some reason it didn't go over well.
She shrugged, and threw open Pan's door.
"Wake up, Saiyajin brat!" She yelled. A groggy Pan jumped, and sat up with disheveled hair. It was so cute. "Ugg." She flopped back down.
"No no no!" Bulma said, taking an arm and dragging her up. "We have to make you for Chichi!"
She dragged her into the shower, and blasted the water on cold. An ear splitting howl could be heard throughout the CC that morning.
"Is this going to take long?" A freezing Pan asked, yelling over the running water.
"Nope! Maybe 30 minutes!" Bulma yelled back, assembling beauty supplies on her counter, with a close to psychotic look on her face.
~*7 hours later*~
"Ouch! My hair!"
"Powder! NOOOOO!" ~*cough cough*~
"Hey! That gel is moving!"
"Chill out Pan!" Bulma said, applying a last touch of lipstick. Pan wrinkled her nose, resisting the urge to push it away.
"This is not cool." She moaned, blowing a stray curl out of her face. Half of the time it took Bulma was because of the evilness of her Saiyajin hair. Somehow, they had managed to curl it. She sat on a stool, in one of Bulma's strapless shirts. It hung loosely around her shoulders.
"Hold very still…" Bulma commanded through a mouth full of bobby pins. She dabbed on mascara on to Pan's lashes and concentrated. "You know Pan." She said, staring at her up close. "You have so much of Gohan in you… and your mother must have been beautiful."
"She was." A tightness in her throat constricted. She fiddled with the light blue strands of soft material on her shirt.
"What?! Is that a tear I see!?" Bulma said, gently wiping it away. Then, "Bulma" mode hit. "You better not cry anymore! You will smear the makeup!" Pan laughed, smiling a little.
Bulma stood back and looked at her, admiring her work. Pan wiggled a little, uncomfortable under such a scrutinizing gaze. Hmph. She probably looked like a circus clown.
Just then, Bulma saw a flash of blue out of the corner of her eye. She smiled slighty. "Listen." She told Pan hastily, "I am going to go get ready. Wait here." She walked out the room, pretending not to see Trunks as he lounged in the doorway.
***
The lavender haired man watched his mother slink away. He rolled his eyes, knowing she thought she was planning something big. Heh. He knew what she was up to.
He peeked around the corner, and watched Pan look at herself in the mirror.
"Oh my god…" He heard her whisper, leaning into the mirror over a dresser. "I look like…mom." She touched her cheeks softly, and for some reason Trunks' heart softened. Even at this angle he could see the glassy shimmer over her eyes. Immediately he felt intrusive, and in a way...protective. Like he needed to protect the small creature in front of him.
He ran his hands through his hair, suddenly nervous. He stepped into the room, and as he did, a floor board creaked. She whipped around quickly, and the look on her face, would be forever stuck in his mind.
Her hair was done in a more dressier way, not quite curly. A tear streamed down her cheek, but she quickly wiped it away. Her eyes took on a stony look, and she asked with a voice defiantly not friendly.
"Where you spying on me?" She crossed her arms, a new look of confidence taking over her features.
Trunks' mouth opened and closed like a fish." I..I..no..yes..I mean-"
She laughed a little, running an eye over Trunks carefully. He felt the heat rise to his cheeks, and he wished he could bolt right now. She raised an eyebrow at the color.
"Are you nervous?" She asked, clearly amused. Trunks swallowed. "Er, I don't think this is going in a good direction." He thought. His instincts were telling him something he couldn't place. Instead, as smart as he was, answered. "No. Why would I be?"
Her smile widened. She could have a little fun with his embarrassment, she thought happily plotting his demise. 'Fine. I don't know why your attitude changes Trunks.' She thought in her mind 'But I hope you figure it out soon, because I am about to take full advantage of it.'
Trunks didn't like the look in her eyes. It was sneaky. Unconsciously he took a step back. She kept walking forwards. She raised a finger slowly, tracing it on his white tank top. His eyes widened. "Uh…" He said gulping. Did he mention his embarrassment around women?
"Shhh." She purred into his ear. He could feel her lips smile, and her breath on his ear.
"Who are you Trunks? Why won't you let anyone close to you?" She asked, leaning as close to him as she could get. She wrapped her hands around his neck.
"But most importantly." She continued, turning her face to look into his eyes. "Why are you nervous?" She pecked him on the cheek, and laughed. She pranced happily, like a school child who had found candy.
She walked out of the room, still laughing. "You can back off of the wall now!" She shouted back at him through the hallway.
Trunks let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. "Ah, screw." He muttered, annoyed. She had played him over well, like a little game. "Ah screw." He puzzled over her delightment at his distress.
"All is fair in love and war." He recited, wondering in which they were playing in.
A figure stood, halo overhead watching the lake critically. Another stood close by, laughing gleefully.
"Hey, would ya look at that, Vegeta? Who would have thought, my granddaughter and your son!" He smiled goofily, watching their fleeting figures on the mirror lake, their window into the living world.
Vegeta humphed, crossing his arms. " As gross as it is for me to think about my blood entwined with yours…" He shivered " At least they will produce a decent heir." He smirked, thinking of Saiyajin brown tailed babies.
"How do you know that they are going to have kids? I mean, heck its not like they are serious or anything." Goku glanced down at the picture, thinking.
Vegeta sneered. 'I don't have to explain my thinking to you, Kakkorot. Be lucky I let you stand in my presence, and do not strain yourself deciphering the inner workings of my royal mind."
"Yeah, whatever Vegeta." Goku laughed, taking a last glance at the window-pool. "You know, I was hoping I could see Chichi this time."
"Yes, I wanted to see Bulma…" Vegeta replied, not remembering Goku was there. "I mean, I hope she hasn't killed anyone with her cooking yet…" He covered his mistake to Goku, who only smiled.
"I miss them all too." He nodded gravely, and walked back across the endless miles of clouds that was heaven. Vegeta still watched the mirror intently, hoping for any glance of a certain blue haired woman…or perhaps one of his purple haired son.
hey guys, this took long. I know. Please review, it is really appreciated especially now since the hit recording is gone. Email me at kureeji@yahoo.com
www.geocities.com/fushigi_mirai_pan