Disclaimer: I don't even own money. One would think that if I owned some small part of the Dragonball/DragonballZ franchise, I'd own money, but noooooooOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOoooooooooo, I'm broke. So it's only obvious that I own nothing here...except the story.
A/N: Only 3 days until Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back! hits theaters! Woo hoo! Huh? Oh, oops. Ignore that. Anyways, yeah. Sorry about my lil' comments as far as the a/ns of the last 5 chapters, I was bored and high on caffiene, and mad at the fact that ff.net was down for two weeks. So I'm hoping to make it up to y'all with another chapter?
Reviews are like smiles. They brighten your day. But they're not free at McDonald's.
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Petrified Tears
chapter 50
"Care to explain that?" he stuttered out five minutes later.
Pan laughed at the expression on his face. It was classic. Hanging half off the desk, his eyes as wide as dinner saucers, pupils tiny specks of blue, his face some hue of indigo over his tan and white beneath, his jaw hung low enough for Pan to stick her head into his mouth.
Had there been someone with a camera nearby, she would have tried the theory, peace sign and all.
"I would give almost anything to be your sister for one day," she repeated, her eyes sparkling with honesty, and a truth it had taken her years to come to terms with.
Her whole face was alive at that moment, her face glowing almost pinkly across her cheeks and nose. Skin had never looked so soft on any woman, grown up or just pretending to be. Even in spite of the dust that still freckled her forehead and the side of her face, she glowed. Her hair had been pulled from its pony tail hours ago to be brushed, and now hung limply around her face and across her shoulders, shining healthily beneath the layer of dust that had settled on it the night before.
If he crossed his eyes, he could swear he saw wings stretched out behind her.
Blinking furiously, he realized it was only the towers of paperwork barricading them in the office.
He quickly shook his head, his eyes returning to a less frightening and hysterical size, the indigo-blue tint across his cheeks and nose refusing to fade.
"Pan, I don't-"
She laughed, her cheeks blushing furiously. He smiled in spite of himself, his face returning to its normal color beneath his tan, the odd hint on top starting to slowly fade.
I wanna know how he stays so tan with an office job…
She quickly banished the thought and blushed even deeper under his gaze.
"What I mean is-"
Dammit! Trunks's screamed inside his head as the phone rang.
Sighing, some part of her laughing because she'd had a very distinct feeling that she'd be interrupted, she got up, brushed herself off, and reached under and behind Trunks to grab the receiver he had rolled onto when he knocked her off the desk.
"Hello, Capsule Corp. Unless you're the pizza dude, the cook at the Golden Dragon on Central, or someone willing to go down to Denny's and bring us the restaurant's entire supply of smothered cheese fries minus the bacon, this is just an answering machine. So what is your purpose for calling?"
"At least you didn't say I was gay this time," Trunks muttered, pushing himself up into a sitting position, his face back to normal.
"Panny?" came the voice on the line.
"Mom?"
"Hi, Sweetheart."
"Mom, why are you calling?" Pan asked, turning and leaning back against the desk, her face concerned, the blush still there as she avoided Trunks's inquisitive and probing gaze. "What's wrong?"
"Your father is refusing to come to bed, that's what's wrong."
Pan's head dropped forward onto her chest with a quiet chortle, face faulting.
"You've got to be kidding me."
She heard her mother turn her head away from the receiver.
"Gohan! I'm only going to tell you one more time! Get your ass up here and come to bed! The girl is fine!" she heard her scream across the house.
"No! She told me to wait up for her and that's what I'm going to do! I have a lot of things that I need to tell that girl, and that she needs to tell me, and I'm not going to sleep until she and I have a nice, long-due, father-daughter talk! I don't care if I have to wait until Saturday afternoon before Bra's party! I'll skip work if I have to! That girl has gone too far this time!" came the angry and off-hinge cry from the other end of the house.
"That doesn't mean you have to wait on the front lawn!"
"Yes it does! She might fly past on the way to the sparring fields again!"
"Fine! You're sleeping on the couch for the next week! And the blanket stays with me!"
There was a pause, then her mother came back on the line. "Panny, please? Come home?"
Pan was laughing so hard that she could barely stand and had to cling to Trunks to keep her balance.
"I'm not kidding! Please!"
"Al-alright, Momma. I'll…" She paused to gasp, drawing in a wheezing breath through lungs that were nearly rock hard from laughter. "It hurts," she whimpered between fits of laughter, one arm across her abdomen clutching her side. "I'll…I'll be home…heh…soon…" She broke back down into hysterical laughter her legs giving out beneath her.
Trunks caught her around the waist and took the phone from her.
"Videl?"
"Trunks?"
"Trunks?! Argh! I'll kill him! Purple-headed bastard! Take my little girl away from m-ag! Purple-head?! Gah! No! No! The mental image! Agh! I'll kill him! I tear his fucking head off! Yeah! That's it! I'll tear them both off!…Ahg! Make the mental picture go away! Make it go away!…The brat will die for this!"
"Ignore him. He's insane right now and doesn't know what he's saying," Videl said calmy.
"I'll never be able to look at my myself the same way again, thanks to him," Trunks grumbled sourly.
Pan had just come out of her fit of laughter. The volume of her father's voice more then enough to carry to her ears even over her own laughter. With wide eyes she turned slowly around, looking at Trunks. Her eyes tripled in size, her face paled, and she doubled over against his chest, clutching at his torn shirt, eyes spurting tears out the corners. The shirt ripped and she would have fallen against indecent depths, had he not wrapped his arms around her and clutched her to his chest.
"And neither will your daughter," he added as an afterthought.
Videl laughed.
"Trunks-"
"Yeah, I'll have her back there by the time she can breathe again."
"Are you sure," Videl hesitated, then swallowed thickly. "Gohan's not exactly right in the head right now. And while it's all just insane, fatherly concern, he's not like my father who even Master Roshi could take. He might go off on you, and there's no one brave enough or stupid enough to come to your rescue. Pan knows better-he'd show you no mercy if she tried to stop him without a fight. And with Goku gone, the only person who could take him long enough for you to talk sense into him or for him to beat out his anger, is your father. And we both know he wouldn't even acknowledge the fact that you would literally be fighting for your life."
Trunks nodded, absently stroking Pan's hair as she laughed and sputtered.
"Pain…can't…" she paused to gasp, her face buried in his stomach, "…breathe! Lungs…hurt…"
"I know. But he'd probably kill me even if I avoided your property at all costs because 'I left her to stumble home exhausted and after dark'. I think I'd be safer if I took her home."
"Good point."
"Learned that one with my sister."
"Just make sure you get her home quickly."
"Will do. Bye Videl."
"Good-night Trunks."
Trunks hung up and looked down at the giggling girl in his arms. Her face was pale and tinted blue, and he doubted she could have opened her eyes if she tried.
Learned that one with my sister…I would give almost anything to be your sister for one day…
He pushed the thoughts to the back of his mind, sliding his hand under her hair and against her scalp, gently massaging the back of her neck. There was no way he was getting that out of her now. But there was always tomorrow.
Blinking, he lifted his gaze from the source of exuberant laughter to the clock on the far wall. It was so late that the only source of light in the office was the light of the full moon streaming through the windows, the power generators having been shut off at one am.
Correction. There's always the rest of today.
He looked back down at her, then smirked evilly. Without warning, he stood and let go of her.
She landed on her back with a squawk, whatever wind left in her lungs now gone.
She lay there like a stranded and marooned turtle, eyes wide, unable to breathe, before Trunks's face appeared to swim in her bleary and blurry vision.
And the laughter started again.
With a groan, Trunks scooped her up, slung her over a shoulder, and slipped out the window back towards her house, glad that they'd finished working before they'd attempted to fall asleep on his desk.
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A/N: Not to say that this chapter really explained anything, but not to say that it didn't raise Trunks's hackles just a bit, which more then likely means something. ;P Anyways, y'all know the drill:
Sit down, remind me how this is the same old story of growin' up and gettin' lost.
Less Than Jake's got the drill down, why don't you? *pauses* Dude! Random lyric/statement actually fits the story for once! *shakes head in amazement, o.O * I swear to the Gods of all that I honestly didn't plan that!
-Panabelle ;P
I FORBID YOU TO FOLLOW THIS LINK!!!! I'm serious, bad things will happen if you follow that link. I just might have to yell at you and tell you to depart from the page it takes you to.