Trunks drifted slowly into the tree line, careful not to disturb a single branch and alert the talking couple. He barely breathed, and his eyes hazed red. Of all people for her to cheat on him with, it had to be Ubuu.
His hiding place among the bushes gave him a clear view of the tears swelled in Pan's eyes. He couldn't hear anything, but he could tell from the way they were talking it was something important. And if strong Pan-chan was crying over it, it must have been life altering. She pivoted angrily and was about to walk off. Trunks didn't have time to breathe a sigh of relief before Ubuu grabbed her arm and pulled her back. He seemed to plead with her for a moment, and all of a sudden, an uncontrollable rage rushed over her face. Trunks recognized it as a saiyan's urge to go into an uncontrollable rage, something all the demi-saiyans had learned to control long ago. For a split second, it turned him on. Then she blasted Ubuu across the clearing and into the water.
"Ubuu!" Trunks shot up from the bush he'd been crouched behind. Pan looked over and snarled at him, and then all the anger faded from her face and she crumpled into a heap on the ground. "Pan?"
Trunks walked over and lifted Pan gently. To a normal human, she would have weighed a ton. But Trunks barely would have compared her to a feather. He leaned over and set her in the hammock, stopping for a second to lovingly push her bangs out of her eyes. She needs a haircut, he chuckled to himself. Then he walked over to the shore and searched the water for a sign of Ubuu.
The dark man had floated downstream a little. Trunks walked along the shore parallel to the body, trying to decide what to do. "Ubuu!" He shouted across the water. The man didn't even twitch.
Trunks considered actually getting in the water, but his finicky side answered the problem for him. He flew over to his ex-friend. "Ubuu?" He said quietly, hovering over the man. When he didn't answer, Trunks grabbed him by the arm and pulled him across the water and back to shore. Once half his body was on shore, Trunks dropped him with a thud. Ubuu groaned and sat up.
"Got to love your landings, Trunks." He said sarcastically.
"Shut up," Trunks turned away and walked to Pan's hammock. "Pannnnnnnn-chan," he said in a singsong voice. "Wake up sweetheart." He pushed a stray hair back behind her ear over and over again, even when the hair remained subserviently in place. Her lashes fluttered.
"Trunks?" her voice was a tiny whisper, nearly lost to the soft breeze blowing off the stream. Her lids were fluttering rapidly, like she was having a bad dream. Trunks heart contracted painfully as a feeling of protectiveness washed over him. He wished he could protect her from all the big bad monsters in her dreams.
Finally she stopped moving and opened her eyes. "Trunks?" The blue was lost in a sea of tears, and the droplets clung to her lashes. "What are you doing here?"
She seemed so vulnerable all of a sudden. "Come on, let's go home…."
"Home? Oh kami! Ubuu!" Her body lurched up into a sitting position. She barely noticed when her head collided with Trunks', she just had to look around and find her friend.
The hammock seemed to aid her escape from him, tipping her out of its cradle as she ran towards Ubuu.
"Ubuu? Are you okay?" She asked, kneeling next to him near the shore. The water lapped at his legs, trying to suck him back into its freezing depths. The sky was turning shades of purple, a sure sign of the coming of the night.
"I'm fine…" Ubuu smiled forgivingly at her and grabbed her hand in an attempt to get up. Trunks darted forward and grabbed Pan away from Ubuu, taking away all the guy's support. "Ow!" He yelled when he plopped back into the sand.
"Trunks! What the hell?" She asked. She pulled on her arm, trying to go back and help Ubuu.
"Don't touch him, Pan." He glared at her, all tender feelings gone.
"Trunks, Ubuu's hurt… he might have hypothermia…" She glanced from Ubuu to Trunks, confused.
"He'll be fine. But if you touch him, I'll kill him." Trunks' voice was low and sullen. It sounded like he wouldn't even hesitate to follow through with his threat.
"What's wrong with you? Would you just let-" Trunks didn't even pay attention to her. He just dragged her behind him by her arm like she was some sort of bad puppy. "Let me go, damn you! I didn't do anything wrong! Stop Trunks!" Her voice was beginning to squeak in panic. She'd never seen him like this.
"Shut up, Pan! Just shut up!!" His voice came to her in the darkness, tense and hoarse. Then she was being lifted into the air, under Trunks' power.
She would have felt safer jumping off a cliff with a feather in her hand. Her arm felt like it was going to be wrenched out of its socket by the gravity. "Trunks!" She yelled up at him. "You're hurting me damnit!"
He looked down at her and his expression seemed to be considering the pros and cons of dropping her. She glared up at him defiantly, silently daring him. She could fly anyways, so it didn't matter if he dropped her.
Trunks must have read her mind, because he didn't drop her. He swooped down and dumped her into a heap onto the roof of the house. His house, Pan reminded herself, trying to kneel on sore legs. Finally she gave it up as a lost cause and curled back up on the roof. Eventually she fell asleep beneath the soft fall breeze, thinking up exactly how she was going to torture Trunks in the morning. Maybe there was a large anvil somewhere in the house…
Sunlight streamed through colored glass onto Pan's eyelids. Drowsily, she imagined herself sleeping on a cloud. Satin slid across her skin as she stretched. She froze as a sudden pain struck her spine. What a crick! Wait, satin?
Pan's eyes shot open. Her body catapulted up into a sitting position, and she studied the room frantically. Her warrior instincts instantly sought out all the exits. Door, large windows… Large, stained glass windows. Of her house. His house. Trunks' house.
Pan sank back into the covers in relief. Her eyes closed for an instant, before shooting open once again to study her body. She was naked! How'd she get naked? Trunks! He was the only possibility… which means he saw her naked!
Somewhere in the back of her mind, Pan knew all these ludicrous thoughts going through her mind were either from shock or mortification. She couldn't decide at the moment. Mechanically, she got up, this time clutching the cover over her body like someone was actually there to see, and looked around more slowly. She spotted her clothes draped hastily over the chair, with her underwear and bra on the floor.
Amused, Pan tried to imagine Trunks handling her lingerie. He'd probably jumped as soon as he realized he touched it, like a three year old and a hot stove. A very guilty three year old. More then likely, that's why they were on the floor..
Pan shook the image out of her head. Her imagination was running wild, and doing in appropriate things while it was at it.
Gingerly, she pulled clothes over her various scrapes from her skippy little landing and searched for the stairs.
Ten minutes and fourteen rooms later, Pan finally made it to the dining room.
She entered as quietly as possible, trying not to disturb Trunks. He was sitting there at the table, reading his paper. He probably couldn't even see her. She definitely couldn't see him.
She nearly made it through the room to the kitchen door, but his voice stopped her.
"Good morning."
She tried to remind herself that she wanted to be cool, calm and collected. "What's so good about it?" She muttered. There. She didn't attack him.
She walked through the door; somehow feeling it wasn't quite thick enough to stand between him and her. She snorted to herself and moved away from the door. A cursory glance through the fridge told her that it was stocked up completely, but not with much that was appetizing.
"Just give me some hot sauce… eggs… anything…" She growled, sliding jars of jelly and wheat germ out of her way to see if anything good was in the back. "Milk! Promising…."
She pulled it out and set it on the tile counter top, then began searching the cupboards. The ones she could reach, anyways. "Everyone has to have fruit loops, right…"
"Cereal is on top of the fridge," Trunks' husky voice whispered in her ear. His voice was a breath of cold air compared to the warmth emanating off his body.
"Oh," Pan said. She didn't know if it was in response to him or what he said.
"Here," she heard the slide of cardboard on metal as he reached up and pulled a box down from the fridge. "This is good for you." He didn't even have to move to reach the box, she thought. For a minute, she hated the unfairness of it all. Being short sucks.
Pan didn't even look at what she was pouring into her bowl. She just moved her hands in the right sequence and prayed that Trunks would leave, or at least move away from her. She almost wanted to lean back against his hard chest, but that would have been… a stupid gesture. And she didn't want to encourage his little fantasy after all.
Bitterly, she looked down at her cereal. Her face crumpled in disgust. It was brown. She hated brown food. It meant it was healthy, which meant it tasted bad.
"Ugh, get that away from me," she wrinkled her nose and pushed the bowl away with a fingertip.
Trunks smirked derisively. "It won't contaminate you, you can touch it you know."
Pan glared at him over her shoulder. It was the first time she realized she hadn't brushed her hair as soon as she got up.
"Whatever that stuff is, I won't eat it."
"What would you like then?" He asked, trying to be solicitous, even when she sounded like a spoiled brat.
"Don't you have fruit loops? Or Coco puffs? Or at LEAST frosted flakes?" She asked.
Trunks frowned. "I have some fruit loops left over from the last time Bra had visited. But you can't really want to…"
Pan smiled at him and answered quickly, before he could lecture. "Yes! I would LOVE to eat them."
Trunks reached over again and pulled down a red box with a large picture of a cartoon toucan on it. "Will these work?"
Pan's eyes lit up, "You're the best Trunks." Impulsively she kissed his cheek and retreated with her food before he could do anything.
By the time Trunks had recovered and came back to the kitchen, Pan was sitting in his seat, scarfing down cereal and laughing at the comics. The rest of Trunks' newspaper was scattered across the table, most likely out of order. He tried not to growl as he cleaned them up. Trunks plopped down in the seat across from her and pulled his bowl to his new seat.
He tried to concentrate on reading about the latest low in the stock markets, but every time Pan would laugh or giggle, or even breathe a little loudly, he'd look at her curiously. He hadn't looked at the comics in a long time, and had almost forgotten why they were funny.
He caught sight of one of the fruit loops piled in her bowl and picked it up. Amazingly, the blue was almost the exact match of her eye color.
"Interesting…" He muttered, holding it up and comparing it with her eyes. It took her a moment to notice he was still alive.
"What are you doing?" She asked, cocking her head to the side.
His hiding place among the bushes gave him a clear view of the tears swelled in Pan's eyes. He couldn't hear anything, but he could tell from the way they were talking it was something important. And if strong Pan-chan was crying over it, it must have been life altering. She pivoted angrily and was about to walk off. Trunks didn't have time to breathe a sigh of relief before Ubuu grabbed her arm and pulled her back. He seemed to plead with her for a moment, and all of a sudden, an uncontrollable rage rushed over her face. Trunks recognized it as a saiyan's urge to go into an uncontrollable rage, something all the demi-saiyans had learned to control long ago. For a split second, it turned him on. Then she blasted Ubuu across the clearing and into the water.
"Ubuu!" Trunks shot up from the bush he'd been crouched behind. Pan looked over and snarled at him, and then all the anger faded from her face and she crumpled into a heap on the ground. "Pan?"
Trunks walked over and lifted Pan gently. To a normal human, she would have weighed a ton. But Trunks barely would have compared her to a feather. He leaned over and set her in the hammock, stopping for a second to lovingly push her bangs out of her eyes. She needs a haircut, he chuckled to himself. Then he walked over to the shore and searched the water for a sign of Ubuu.
The dark man had floated downstream a little. Trunks walked along the shore parallel to the body, trying to decide what to do. "Ubuu!" He shouted across the water. The man didn't even twitch.
Trunks considered actually getting in the water, but his finicky side answered the problem for him. He flew over to his ex-friend. "Ubuu?" He said quietly, hovering over the man. When he didn't answer, Trunks grabbed him by the arm and pulled him across the water and back to shore. Once half his body was on shore, Trunks dropped him with a thud. Ubuu groaned and sat up.
"Got to love your landings, Trunks." He said sarcastically.
"Shut up," Trunks turned away and walked to Pan's hammock. "Pannnnnnnn-chan," he said in a singsong voice. "Wake up sweetheart." He pushed a stray hair back behind her ear over and over again, even when the hair remained subserviently in place. Her lashes fluttered.
"Trunks?" her voice was a tiny whisper, nearly lost to the soft breeze blowing off the stream. Her lids were fluttering rapidly, like she was having a bad dream. Trunks heart contracted painfully as a feeling of protectiveness washed over him. He wished he could protect her from all the big bad monsters in her dreams.
Finally she stopped moving and opened her eyes. "Trunks?" The blue was lost in a sea of tears, and the droplets clung to her lashes. "What are you doing here?"
She seemed so vulnerable all of a sudden. "Come on, let's go home…."
"Home? Oh kami! Ubuu!" Her body lurched up into a sitting position. She barely noticed when her head collided with Trunks', she just had to look around and find her friend.
The hammock seemed to aid her escape from him, tipping her out of its cradle as she ran towards Ubuu.
"Ubuu? Are you okay?" She asked, kneeling next to him near the shore. The water lapped at his legs, trying to suck him back into its freezing depths. The sky was turning shades of purple, a sure sign of the coming of the night.
"I'm fine…" Ubuu smiled forgivingly at her and grabbed her hand in an attempt to get up. Trunks darted forward and grabbed Pan away from Ubuu, taking away all the guy's support. "Ow!" He yelled when he plopped back into the sand.
"Trunks! What the hell?" She asked. She pulled on her arm, trying to go back and help Ubuu.
"Don't touch him, Pan." He glared at her, all tender feelings gone.
"Trunks, Ubuu's hurt… he might have hypothermia…" She glanced from Ubuu to Trunks, confused.
"He'll be fine. But if you touch him, I'll kill him." Trunks' voice was low and sullen. It sounded like he wouldn't even hesitate to follow through with his threat.
"What's wrong with you? Would you just let-" Trunks didn't even pay attention to her. He just dragged her behind him by her arm like she was some sort of bad puppy. "Let me go, damn you! I didn't do anything wrong! Stop Trunks!" Her voice was beginning to squeak in panic. She'd never seen him like this.
"Shut up, Pan! Just shut up!!" His voice came to her in the darkness, tense and hoarse. Then she was being lifted into the air, under Trunks' power.
She would have felt safer jumping off a cliff with a feather in her hand. Her arm felt like it was going to be wrenched out of its socket by the gravity. "Trunks!" She yelled up at him. "You're hurting me damnit!"
He looked down at her and his expression seemed to be considering the pros and cons of dropping her. She glared up at him defiantly, silently daring him. She could fly anyways, so it didn't matter if he dropped her.
Trunks must have read her mind, because he didn't drop her. He swooped down and dumped her into a heap onto the roof of the house. His house, Pan reminded herself, trying to kneel on sore legs. Finally she gave it up as a lost cause and curled back up on the roof. Eventually she fell asleep beneath the soft fall breeze, thinking up exactly how she was going to torture Trunks in the morning. Maybe there was a large anvil somewhere in the house…
Sunlight streamed through colored glass onto Pan's eyelids. Drowsily, she imagined herself sleeping on a cloud. Satin slid across her skin as she stretched. She froze as a sudden pain struck her spine. What a crick! Wait, satin?
Pan's eyes shot open. Her body catapulted up into a sitting position, and she studied the room frantically. Her warrior instincts instantly sought out all the exits. Door, large windows… Large, stained glass windows. Of her house. His house. Trunks' house.
Pan sank back into the covers in relief. Her eyes closed for an instant, before shooting open once again to study her body. She was naked! How'd she get naked? Trunks! He was the only possibility… which means he saw her naked!
Somewhere in the back of her mind, Pan knew all these ludicrous thoughts going through her mind were either from shock or mortification. She couldn't decide at the moment. Mechanically, she got up, this time clutching the cover over her body like someone was actually there to see, and looked around more slowly. She spotted her clothes draped hastily over the chair, with her underwear and bra on the floor.
Amused, Pan tried to imagine Trunks handling her lingerie. He'd probably jumped as soon as he realized he touched it, like a three year old and a hot stove. A very guilty three year old. More then likely, that's why they were on the floor..
Pan shook the image out of her head. Her imagination was running wild, and doing in appropriate things while it was at it.
Gingerly, she pulled clothes over her various scrapes from her skippy little landing and searched for the stairs.
Ten minutes and fourteen rooms later, Pan finally made it to the dining room.
She entered as quietly as possible, trying not to disturb Trunks. He was sitting there at the table, reading his paper. He probably couldn't even see her. She definitely couldn't see him.
She nearly made it through the room to the kitchen door, but his voice stopped her.
"Good morning."
She tried to remind herself that she wanted to be cool, calm and collected. "What's so good about it?" She muttered. There. She didn't attack him.
She walked through the door; somehow feeling it wasn't quite thick enough to stand between him and her. She snorted to herself and moved away from the door. A cursory glance through the fridge told her that it was stocked up completely, but not with much that was appetizing.
"Just give me some hot sauce… eggs… anything…" She growled, sliding jars of jelly and wheat germ out of her way to see if anything good was in the back. "Milk! Promising…."
She pulled it out and set it on the tile counter top, then began searching the cupboards. The ones she could reach, anyways. "Everyone has to have fruit loops, right…"
"Cereal is on top of the fridge," Trunks' husky voice whispered in her ear. His voice was a breath of cold air compared to the warmth emanating off his body.
"Oh," Pan said. She didn't know if it was in response to him or what he said.
"Here," she heard the slide of cardboard on metal as he reached up and pulled a box down from the fridge. "This is good for you." He didn't even have to move to reach the box, she thought. For a minute, she hated the unfairness of it all. Being short sucks.
Pan didn't even look at what she was pouring into her bowl. She just moved her hands in the right sequence and prayed that Trunks would leave, or at least move away from her. She almost wanted to lean back against his hard chest, but that would have been… a stupid gesture. And she didn't want to encourage his little fantasy after all.
Bitterly, she looked down at her cereal. Her face crumpled in disgust. It was brown. She hated brown food. It meant it was healthy, which meant it tasted bad.
"Ugh, get that away from me," she wrinkled her nose and pushed the bowl away with a fingertip.
Trunks smirked derisively. "It won't contaminate you, you can touch it you know."
Pan glared at him over her shoulder. It was the first time she realized she hadn't brushed her hair as soon as she got up.
"Whatever that stuff is, I won't eat it."
"What would you like then?" He asked, trying to be solicitous, even when she sounded like a spoiled brat.
"Don't you have fruit loops? Or Coco puffs? Or at LEAST frosted flakes?" She asked.
Trunks frowned. "I have some fruit loops left over from the last time Bra had visited. But you can't really want to…"
Pan smiled at him and answered quickly, before he could lecture. "Yes! I would LOVE to eat them."
Trunks reached over again and pulled down a red box with a large picture of a cartoon toucan on it. "Will these work?"
Pan's eyes lit up, "You're the best Trunks." Impulsively she kissed his cheek and retreated with her food before he could do anything.
By the time Trunks had recovered and came back to the kitchen, Pan was sitting in his seat, scarfing down cereal and laughing at the comics. The rest of Trunks' newspaper was scattered across the table, most likely out of order. He tried not to growl as he cleaned them up. Trunks plopped down in the seat across from her and pulled his bowl to his new seat.
He tried to concentrate on reading about the latest low in the stock markets, but every time Pan would laugh or giggle, or even breathe a little loudly, he'd look at her curiously. He hadn't looked at the comics in a long time, and had almost forgotten why they were funny.
He caught sight of one of the fruit loops piled in her bowl and picked it up. Amazingly, the blue was almost the exact match of her eye color.
"Interesting…" He muttered, holding it up and comparing it with her eyes. It took her a moment to notice he was still alive.
"What are you doing?" She asked, cocking her head to the side.