Disclaimer: No one really learns how to play Disney songs. Disney songs are there simply to be ripped apart.
A/N: Do you have any idea how hard it is to type over a cat that's nearly laying on the keyboard? Just thought I'd toss that one in there... Anyhoo, this chapter is in thanks to everyone who's been reviewing lately; suddenly, I don't feel worthless. Although I was serious a few chapters ago when I made mention of forgetting how to write. Anyhoo, thanks to all of you, and especially to Chris; I have no clue if you're even reading this, but if you are, thanks.
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Petrified Tears
chapter 72
Trunks sighed, taking off his glasses and setting them on the floor, rubbing his eyes.
It had been a long day.
Especially when one considered that yesterday had never really ended.
With a yawn, he shoved his hands back through his hair, telling his eyes they were going to stay open whether they wanted to or not. They didn't seem to agree with him, so he simply leaned his head back against his desk and prayed for coffee.
First that whole thing that was yesterday, and then fighting with his father and the realization of what Goten had been getting at all those years ago. Then, getting the daylights scared out of him by Gohan, then another look into Pan's inner self. And then the budgets, the patents, the grants, the meeting with Mr. Summers, the blueprints of the new Capsule Corp airbike, nearly getting killed by Pan, nearly getting killed by ChiChi, and then actually setting to work on the plans for the new light-weight engine Mr. Summers' company was finding glitches in.
Thank Dende for Pan.
His hands fell into his lap as he told himself to keep opening his eyes.
"Here, you look like you need this."
His eyes fluttered open as the scent of freshmade coffee invaded his senses, his eyes being blessed with the sight of a tired young girl, her dark blue eyes sparkling in the starlight thrown through the window, and the overhead lights being reflected on the glass, kneeling before him. Black hair framed her face, falling down her back from the sloppy half-up-half-down way she'd tied it.
Blinking furiously, he turned his head to look down at the mug she held between her hands, at the creamy black coffee within, just the color he liked it.
Just the way he liked it.
"Thank you, Pan," he mumbled, reaching up slowly to take the warm cup from her hands. He blinked sluggishly, trying to make his eyes focus. She smiled warmly and reached down, setting his glasses on his nose, then leaning forward and kissing him tenderly on the temple.
Startled, but too tired to do more than smile, Trunks lowered the cup to his lap and turned his head, his nose brushing against and across hers, his eyes closing sluggishly as he lifted a hand to draw her mouth down to his.
She stiffened and instantly, he came awake, her voice small enough to almost be missed in the suddenly oppressive silence of his office.
"Didn't you want me to explain my comment from last night?"
He swallowed thickly and slowly pulled away. She retreated to her nest of paperwork, settling back down into it with a flop, sending papers flying around her like a pillow of dust, her hair coming undone and tumbling around her face.
"P-pan, I'm sorry, I didn't me-"
"Do you or don't you want to know," she mumbled quickly, trying to act like nothing had happened, but something inside of her eyes told him differently.
He sighed and lowered his head, staring down into the coffee cup and feeling like a complete ass. He started to raise the cup to his lips, but broke off and looked up at her, his eyes straining as if to meet hers through her hair.
"Pan, please, just, I'm-" he broke off, and stared back down into the coffee as she raised her eyes. Once again, he tried to raise the mug to his lips, but at the last minute found himself breaking away into speech. "All of it. Just now, Saturday, Frid-"
He blinked, finding himself being pushed against the desk by Pan, as she leaned towards him, her fingers pressed against his lips, her other hand cupping his and the coffee mug in his lap, her eyes wide and beseeching.
"That never happened, Trunks, remember?" she whispered, her voice tight. "We agreed that never happened."
Trunks sighed and lifted a hand, gently pulling her fingers away, moving his face so that they weren't quite so close.
"But it did, Pan. We can't pretend it didn't; all week one or the other of us has been mentioning it inadvertently. It did happen. We can't pretend I didn't act like an asshole, or that you didn't act like a five year old. We did. And-"
"Trunks," she started, but now it was his turn to stop her words.
"No, Pan. I did kiss you. I did freak afterwards and start acting like an asshole. And-"
Her fingers cut him off again.
"That's what I'm talking about Trunks. Everything up until you dumped me in the sand happened…just a simple misunderstanding on my part, and forgetfulness on yours, that just happened, and that I don't regret, you don't regret, neither of us do because, oddly, we're closer and things are easier understood now, even if it is a little awkward. But the whole after part…that's what I don't want to admit happening. I don't want to remember that I let myself get stepped on, that I acted as immaturely as I did. I don't want to remember the fact that I thought our friendship was over, that I threatened you with my father's wrath…and I really don't want to admit that anything that happened on Saturday night actually happened."
Trunks took her hand back into his and shifted, setting the coffee cup next to him and pulling her into his lap.
"I'm sorry Pan," he whispered. "I know I should have said something when my father was going off on you, and that I shouldn't have acted like an ass again, but I had really meant to apologize…I just…I don't know what I was thinking. I think the problem was that I was thinking too much about the wrong types of things."
She nodded into his shoulder, and he drew her closer, cradling her much like his mother had cradled him earlier that week, only she wasn't hysterical, nor was he crying. He buried his face into her neck, tightening his arms around her as tight as he dared, surprised at how tightly he could hold her without having to worry about hurting her.
"I'm sorry Pan," he whispered again.
She nodded and squirmed an arm free, indicating the coffee cup.
"You're coffee's getting cold," she told him, using it as an excuse to push herself away and crawl back to her work nest.
Nodding, he silently took a sip, only to be pleasantly surprised when he wasn't met with the bitter bite of instant coffee. With a refreshed sigh, he turned back to the document before him, the grant he'd signed over to Picame Incorporated.
"What time is it?" he heard Pan ask a moment later.
Blinking wearily, he looked up at the clock as he took another drink.
"About two in the morning."
Stretching out in into the paperwork she had strewn about her, she yawned, her actions creepily cat-like.
"Naptime," she mumbled, curling into a ball on top of her notes.
"No naptime, Pan," he scolded playfully, watching as she made herself comfortable.
"Yes naptime."
"I wish it were. But I need to get this done, Pan-we need to get this done…there's no staying late tomorrow, this absolutely needs to get finished…everything else can wait for the weekend to pass. But this presentation bullshit needs to be finished by 9 am tomorrow morning-this morning!-so that I can memorize it and not come off like a completely imbecile at dinner."
Pan muscled herself onto her elbows, leaning forward and snatching his glasses as he lowered his mug, ignoring the scowl that fell across his face as she placed them on her nose.
"I thought this was an informal presentation over cocktails."
"It is. But you know me; I'm not good with impromtu stuff when it's supposed to be informal. I always feel like I'm talking down to the guy. Or woman, on occasion…hellish, occasions…"
Pan laughed. "You know, if you actually settled down, all of those women would disappear and leave you alone."
He shook his head.
"No they wouldn't, that's just wishful thinking. They'd kill my wife and kidnap me. Or just try and seduce me!"
She raised an eyebrow behind the glasses.
"You mean they don't try to seduce you now?" He shrugged, rubbing the back of his head. "And like any of them could actually kidnap you."
His eyes grew wide. "You'd be surprised how resourceful they can be! They have this…this…" he paused long enough to twitch. "It's like Superman and Kryptonite…" He twitched again.
"Twitch twitch," Pan giggled quietly, watching him.
Shaking it off, he looked at her.
"What about you, Panny. You planning on marrying?"
She shrugged, settling back down, pulling her current page of notes in front of her along with the blue prints.
"I dunno. I'm not so sure I want to get married; yeah it'd be nice and all, but I'm not so sure. The women in my family have this nasty habit of becoming housewives after marriage. I'll pass on that, thank you."
He laughed and downed the coffee. "Alright then, what are your plans for the next 20-odd years of your life?"
"What, are you saying I won't live longer then that?" she teased. He grew red in the face, but she answered him before he could back out of his corner. "I dunno…maybe become a scholar like my dad, maybe find a gig as a trainer-shouldn't be too hard considering my grandfathers. I wouldn't mind just pulling a 'classic Son', catching myself a husband to do the work, build a house in the woods, and spend the day sparring, not very likely nowadays though…I can't say much more then that…anything but an office job."
Trunks snorted, quickly scribbling down something or other about the contract between Capsule Corps and Picame Inc. "You'd be willing to settle down and be a housewife," he laughed quietly, smirking.
"I am not! I said sparring, not raising children. I mean, yeah, I want kids someday, but not until I'm settled and even then, though they'll be home schooled until high school, I won't be a housewife. I won't cook for my husband every night, won't clean house on a daily basis, I'd be doing things I enjoy…hell, maybe I'll reincarnate the Great Saiyaman."
He laughed. "You just said so yourself; the women in your family do settle down and become housewives."
"Trunks-"
"You're just running around in circles and contradicting yourself."
"I'm tired!" she cried, leaping onto her feet, her eyes straining to focus on him behind the glasses. You contradict yourself all the time, and I don't belittle you for it!"
He laughed again.
"Calm down, Pan. I'm just trying to warn you; if you really don't want to become a housewife, don't marry. I remember Videl saying the same thing in the middle of a baby-sitting fiasco where Goten was trying to distract her while I raided the fridge. Six years later, you were born and she was too blown out to care anymore, and settled into the housewife routine."
"My mother also learned there was a bigger world of violence then she was raised with. Learned that her father's exaggerated tales of battle were nothing compared to some of the realities our families have faced in the last three decades. She realized she was out of her league-not very far out of it, granted, but still in over her head."
Trunks looked up at her, watching her indigo-blue eyes as they twinkled with her spirit, her black locks of silken midnight as they stirred silently in the gentle breeze drifting in through the window that no one had bothered to close after Goten and ChiChi had left.
"Pan, the last thing I want to see you do is marry a guy who'd turn you into a housewife. Tradition is sacred in your family, I know that, but you're not the type of girl to settle down and be some guy's servant."
She blinked profusely, confused, reaching up and pushing his glasses onto the top of her head. "Trunks, what the hell has gotten into you? I mean, first the-the-the-yeah thing, and then you brought up last weekend, and now, you're going off on me getting married? What the hell has gotten into you?"
He shook his head, setting aside the notebook. Her eyes were more intrigued then irritated, more curious then annoyed. Work was out of the question now, he knew that.
"I don't know, Panny. I just keep thinking back to what my mother said about me not being married." He winced at his own words and slowly raised himself to his feet. "I-I mean, not that I'm actually thinking of listening to her for once, but it's just, well…I'm curious about what you're going to do. I mean, you just finished school. And I won't say that I'm not feeling old about that, it's just that I want to know what you're going to do with yourself. When you left you wanted nothing more then to come home, find a training gig, and live on unmarried for the rest of your life. Now you're saying that while you don't really want the curses that come with marriage, you want a family. You've changed Pan, and I feel like I don't know parts of you anymore."
Pan blushed.
"I haven't met her yet, but I can guarantee you'll find him soon enough. You're too headstrong not to."
She smiled and settled back into her nest, making herself comfortable. "The only reason you haven't found her yet is you're too terrified of girls to actually take out a girl you like, and not just one of those sluts who attack you on the street and demand dates or death. Show some balls, man!"
He blushed slightly. "That is what I mean by you'll find him. Whether or not he's aware of it."
She laughed. "Trunks, what I do with my life, I do. I'll be destined for it…you know how it is. You always said you'd never set foot into Capsule Corps for more then a summer, and look at you! President for ten years running!"
"Don't remind me," he mumbled, sliding back down against the desk, wondering why either of them even bothered to stand up. Or rather, why she stood up; he stood up to better defend himself if he had to. He was still waiting for her to finish her attack on him from earlier that afternoon.
He knew her; she was probably waiting to lure him into a state of false security before lashing out viciously…. Or she already had.
Warily, he looked down at the coffee cup.
"I didn't poison you. I plan on killing you tomorrow evening and taking your paycheck."
He laughed and reached forward between his legs, grabbing her foot and pulling her forward, turning her around as he did, her form sliding on the paperwork strewn about them, until he had placed her comfortably somewhere between sitting on his lap and sitting between his legs, her back pressed against his chest. Wrapping his arms around her stomach, he pulled his glasses from her face and placed them back on his, propping up one leg and setting a note book on the other as he set half of himself to working, yet turning the other half of him to her.
"So…you want to explain that sister comment to me yet?"
"Nope," she said, turning away her face from him and crossing her arms over her chest. "I gave you your chance to hear that story. And you passed it up. Sorry."
"Pan," he groaned, half believing her. "Please, tell me."
"No," she laughed, trying to stand up and walk away, only to be pulled back down into his lap. Both laughing, they didn't seem to notice how close they really were, how his nose brushed hers, how his hands held her tightly, or how her hands clutched tenderly at his. They were oblivious to the sudden ease they felt, how all of the ups and downs of the past 10 minutes alone seemed to fade away.
Trunks smiled, and she smiled with him, both of them mere breaths apart.
Slowly their laughter subsided; slowly, their eyes opened.
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A/N: Yes. This is a cliff-hanger. Yes, I'm going to leave it like this for a couple days at least. Yes, I know you're all going to hate me for this if you already don't. Review and feel free to flame me about this.
-Panabelle ;P
Shrine of the Saiyan Squirt