Disclaimer: don't

A/N: Yeah, for those of you who actually pay attention (-.^), I moved my site. The new addy shall be at the bottom of all pages henceforth.

Come on come on come on! I wanna know what happens!! I wanna see Trunks and Gohan duke it out so that Trunks and Pan can go get married and live happily ever after! Let's go see! Come on!

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Petrified Tears
chapter 46



Trunks had barely enough time to swallow and blink his eyes before Pan came racing out the front door, calling to her grandmother over her shoulder that there was no time for breakfast, thank you kindly.

She barreled into him, knocking them both to the ground as she clutched the tattered remains of his dusty blazer.

'Do you have any idea of what time it is?" she demanded, shaking him as her knees squeezed the air out of his lungs as they crushed the sides of his rib cage.

"Can't-breathe-"

She was up in an instant, dragging him to his feet, repeating her question.

"What-Pan, no. It can't be later than-"

"Look," she commanded, cutting him off. Obligingly, he looked at his watch, only to increase the size of his eyes by threefold, and decrease the color of his skin by five.

"We have two minutes to get to work before Bulma slaughters us."

He swallowed thickly, and staggered back a step, before meeting her eyes. Both nodded as ChiChi came running out the front door.

The two launched themselves into the air just in time to hear ChiChi cry out, "Pan! Food! Catch!" Pan turned around but didn't slow or change direction. ChiChi drew back her arm and flung the tiny capsule forward in a full and fluid arc that brought one foot off the ground. Pan caught it easily.

"Thanks Grandma!" she called back, stuffing the capsule into her pocket and turning back around. Trunks caught her eye, and she nodded in agreement.

With a golden burst of hair and energy, he shot ahead. A heartbeat later, she burst forward to catch up to him with the same golden shockwave that had propelled him forward.


*


They entered through the window in Trunks's office that had conveniently been left open.

Bulma stood leaning against the front of the desk, back to them, arms crossed over her chest. The angle of her head made the extent of her anger more then clear as she kept her eyes closed and drummed her fingers on her arm.

"Why in the name of Dende are you late?" she demanded, her voice a reasonable decibel level.

Swallowing thickly, the two glanced at each other, silently agreeing that it would be safer to stay super-saiyan than to drop their power levels down to normal.

"I'm waiting."

Trunks swallowed again, his throat making that gulping sound that Pan had often found so comical. He knew that "I was" would be too long of an answer, that he'd never be able to say anything more before she cut him off.

"Gohan," he replied matter-of-factly, Pan offering up the explanation of, "My dad," at the same time.

Bulma whirled around to chastise them, only to have her knees give out and her face seem to fall apart at the sight of them.

"What-are you al-" She immediately cut herself off and hurried around the desk, twisting this way and that, lifting an arm, touching the skin over his spleen, lifting tears in the fabric of his clothing, knowing better then to just ask him if he were alright.

"Mom, I'm fine," he assured her, only to have her go around another time to make sure she hadn't overlooked anything.

Pan couldn't help but laugh.

"Bulma, he's fine. We just went out sparring last night before we went back to my house."

"So that's what Vegeta was mumbling about when he finally came to bed," she murmured, waving off the confused glances of the blond "children" before her. She stepped back, glancing them both over with a trained and critical eye.

Trunks's dark navy slacks were dusty and in places stained even black. They were torn on the bottom and frayed, holes and rips were scattered here and there in decent places, and some places revealing the green boxers that were the same color as his eyes (currently). His deep navy blazer was missing an entire arm, half of the collar was ripped off in the back, and tattered in the front on both sides. His white shirt and the blazer both were ripped to near shreds.

However, the undershirt underneath was in as pristine a condition (when overlooking sweat, dust, blood, and grime) as his boxers.

His hair was stiff with blood on one side of his head, and dried blood was smeared and splattered elsewhere across his face, hair, hands, and neck. Dust covered some of the dried blood on his cheeks, and was covered by blood on his forehead.

Bulma turned her eye to Pan, who faired little better, yet little worse.

One leg of her pants were in shreds, showing tantalizing glimpses of pale skin beneath when she moved a certain way. However, those glimpses often showed dried lines of blood down her leg. The white sock at the end of the leg was stained with blood almost completely. Her shirt was torn and tattered, but faired far better then the shirt Trunks wore. Both sleeves were still connected to it, although neither fully intact, and half of her collar had been ripped clear off along with part of the shoulder, revealing the strap of the black tiny-tank she wore underneath. The bottom half of the right front of the shirt had been removed by some sort of blast, showing the tank top stained blacker then her hair normally was. Her pony tail was wild and chunks of hair hung in her face-or would hang in her face, as soon as she dropped her power level. Her face wasn't nearly so bloody, but dust covered her face in a childish fashion.

Bulma looked at them, unsure of who had bled more, of who's blood was who's, and completely unsure if she wanted to know.

"I hardly think that you two could do that to each other. And if you did it to each other, then why in hell did you both insinuate Gohan as the reason you're both late?"

Trunks's mouth instantly went dry; if it hadn't, he surely would have swallowed again. He opened and closed his mouth a few times like a fish, before looking beseechingly at Pan with terrified eyes.

She shrugged, and seemed to teeter, but then steadied herself and explained.

"My dad woke us all up this morning with a really high power level-higher then I'd ever felt it, but Mom and Uncle Goten and Trunks had obviously felt it that high before because they were all paranoid and terrified. Like I wasn't," she added hastily. She shook herself mentally and continued. "Anyways, we were all pretty shaken and waited for him since it seemed he was coming back towards the house. I guess we lost track of time."

Bulma eyed them both carefully, then caught and held the shifty gaze of her son.

Blue eyes locked on aqua green. Trunks sighed and nodded at her unspoken question, dropping out of super-saiyan as he did so. His hair settled awkwardly about his head, strands sticking straight up and all over.

Bulma sighed, anger gone.

"I thought he'd sworn to never use that form again unless it was needed," she murmured.

"Release valve," Trunks grumbled, tearing his eyes from her gaze and growling at the back of his black swivel chair. His face twitched, and Pan couldn't help but feel fear and resentment-betrayal even-pour off of him like water from an oil painting. She tried to block herself from the odd emanations coming from him, but not very successfully.

"Do you think," Bulma started, only to have Trunks nod and brush past her.

"I know."

Bulma stood rigid for a moment, her face terrified that he was back into his black-pride and petrified emotion frame of mind.

Pan just drew in a deep breath and let it out with a quiet sigh of relief as she dropped the anger she'd been holding in the back of her mind.

"I'll deal with him," her promised quietly. "Go invent or whatever it is you do while you leave him here to suffer and me to baby-sit," she added with a wink. "I'm a big girl, I can take care of myself."

Bulma smiled, sure that her plan had worked, but unsure as to whether or not she wanted to leave her son as he was. Doubt flickered for a moment in her eyes, but she grudgingly agreed, knowing that he was more like his father now then he had ever been before, and that once he wanted to talk, he'd find her.

She ran her eyes over Pan one more time, deciding to send Bra to bring clothes for both the girl and her son, when her eyes lighted on the fact that she was barefoot.

"Pan?"

"My mom's bringing my shoes once she beats what happened out of my father."

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A/N: Yes, I mock you. Bwa ha ha ha ha! They did not fight! But-the next chapter? Maybe? Maybe maybe maybe? I gotta go find out! Let's go! Three chapters left to the update-maybe the next one is the one where he breaks down and tells her he loves her and they live happily ever after! Come on come on come on!

-Panabelle ;P
Shrine of the Saiyan Squirt NEW ADDY! NEW ADDY!