A/N:                Yeah… Well, sorry it took me so long – again… But you can see that I haven't been lazy, since I've updated three other stories within 4 days and after that and having to start to work at 6am the whole last week I had sometimes been just too tired to think, nonetheless to write… I hope you understand me…. And the last week had been pure hell. I don't think that I ever had so much stress before. I really wanted to finish the chapter last Monday, but then a friend came over. On Tuesday I had been in the gym and almost got the chapter finished, but from Wednesday on I almost didn't have one single free minute. You must know, I'm singing in a choir and we recorded a CD on Wednesday, Thursday, Friday and Saturday so that I absolutely had no time until today to write anything. From now on I really try to keep up with my updates, but I can't promise you anything… I can just ask you to bear with me and wait more or less patiently for my updates… And I want to thank all of you who have supported and still will support me with your encouraging reviews!

                        @ Pink Ice: I really appreciate your criticism! For my excuse I have to say that I have never seen Dragonball GT, since they're still repeating the DBZ episode here in Germany and so I have almost no idea how Trunks' character really is like… But this is my story and I'll portrait him as I like and maybe something will change in the future chapters, but I can't say for sure… Parts of this story have sure become different than originally planned, so I have no idea what my mind comes up with next. But don't worry about the close calls… I already have one extreme and evil one in my mind ever since I have started this story – maybe even longer… And I think that this could happen pretty soon…

Chapter 8: The dinner

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~Pan~

Dende, how could I let Angela talk me into this? This is just… Living with people, people who are strangers to me, people I am a stranger to. I don't know if I can do that, if they can do that. I mean, I don't think I would have problems with living with an old married couple, since I long lived under the same roof with my grandma, but how can I expect them to live with me and soon with me and my child? I am a Saiyajin and my child will also be one, with even more warrior blood flowing through his or her veins. I know that the child will be a handful, so how can I expect two elderly people to live in the same house with a child like this? My family is used to this, but Angela's grandparents have no idea about my true heritage. If I really want to live there, I have to tell them. Why? Well, the reason is simple. For example, how could I explain to them the huge – inhuman – appetite of both me and the child or the strength and so on? The only possibility is, if they really think that I am the perfect roomer and if I think that I could live there, to tell them – everything. Just if it doesn't change anything in their opinion, and only if that's the case, I'll move in.

I know, this is a huge risk I'm taking here, but I'm doing this for the life of my unborn child.

"Pan? Hello? Are you still in there?"

Hearing Angela's voice I jolt out of my thoughts and look at her startled, when I notice that the car has stopped. I force a smile at her, trying to somehow hide my nervousness. "Sorry, zoned out there for a moment… Why did you stop?"

She raises her eyebrow at me, as if asking 'Just a moment?' but didn't say anything about that. Instead she points with her index finger at a house on the right side and says, "We're there. That's my grandparents' house."

I'm pretty sure I must have looked quite stupid, when my mouth just forms a silent 'oh' and my head turns to follow the invisible line from her finger to the house at the end of it. But the first thing that enters my mind, when my eyes rest on it is beautiful. Okay, the white walls could use some painting, as well as the white fence around the property and the house itself looks to be quite small, but all in all those minor details made it look more like home. I can see light coming through some windows and shadows moving from one room to another. Suddenly the light behind the front door flickers on – Could they've heard us? – and the door is opened.

"Okay, Pan, let's go. They're already waiting for us." Without saying another word, she jumped out of the car and I – though reluctantly – follow her. While locking her car, she flashes me a reassuring smile and then we walk up to the front door, where two elderly people are already standing. Oh Dende. I feel the pace of my heart fasten, feel it pounding against my chest possibly harder than ever before. I hastily wipe my damp hands in my long dark blue skirt, which hides my already slightly showing belly and straighten my white blouse, before tugging a strand of my now shoulder-length jet black hair, which I have particularly tied into a loose bun, behind my ear. I watch the reunion between grandparents and granddaughter, holding a bit of distance between them and me, and wait patiently until Angela waves at me to come nearer. "Pan," she says smiling, "I want to introduce you to my grandparents Elisabeth and Arthur Crawford. Grandma, grandpa, this is Pan. I told you about her."

Also smiling lightly and forcing my hand to stop trembling I extend it. "Mr. and Mrs. Crawford, it's nice to meet you…Thank you for the invitation," I manage to say, swallowing the huge lump in my throat.

Angela's grandmother gives me a warm and welcoming smile, shaking my hand. "It's nice to me you, Pan."

"Yeah," her grandfather throws in, taking my hand after Mrs. Crawford released it. "Angela has already told us so much about you, so that we practically had no other choice than inviting you."

"Arthur is right. But now, please come inside and take a seat at the dining table in the living room. Dinner will be ready in a few."

Feeling suddenly a lot better after this welcome I walk past Mr. and Mrs. Crawford and follow Angela into the living room, where I sit down next to her at the table. While we are waiting for the dinner – it already smells delicious – I use the chance to look a bit around. The living room isn't exactly big, but it doesn't seem too small either. It is held in light colors, like white, beige and the closets and chairs are made of pine. On the floor are lying several smaller carpets, covering the light parquet.

It doesn't take long for Mrs. Crawford to come back into the living room. Just a few minutes after Angela and I sat down, she and her husband start putting steaming bowls on the table. When I see, what Angela's grandmother has prepared for dinner, my mouth starts watering.

"I know," she says with an apologetic smile on her face, "spaghettis isn't something you would've expected after being invited for dinner, but you must understand that it is simply to warm outside to stand in the kitchen all day…"

"Besides," Angela cuts in, "grandma's spaghettis are the best ones on the whole world."

"It's okay," I assure her. "I understand you. I like it simple."

"Well then," Mr. Crawford now says, "let's start, before it gets cold. After dinner we'll show you the house and the rooms that would be yours in case you move in."

Dinner itself goes quite smoothly. There's just the occasional small talk now and then, mostly Angela telling her grandparents about college, while I remain silent most of the time. Actually the only thing I've said next to answering some of their questions is how great the food is – and that is the truth. Those are the most delicious spaghetti I've ever eaten.

When we've all finished eating I notice how Mrs. Crawford wants to get up to do the dishes, but being the well-raised girl that I am, I jump up and also start gathering dirty dishes in my hands. "Oh dear, you don't have to," Mrs. Crawford says.

"No, I don't, but that doesn't mean I won't," I answer quickly and then ask, "Uhm, could you please show me the kitchen?"

"Of course." Mrs. Crawford turns around and walks along the small corridor until she steps through a door on the right. I think I saw her smiling contently, when she turned to go, but that could also have been my imagination.

The kitchen is also not really big. Actually there's just a counter under the window, a small table for about four persons standing at one wall, on the other walls are hanging some cupboards as well as white closets over the oven, sink and – wow – a dishwasher, which Mrs. Crawford is already filling. I quickly join her, putting some of the empty bowls on one of the drawers. "I must again say that the dinner was delicious," I can't help but say again.

She smiles at me. "I'm happy that you like it. But you have really eaten a lot – much more than I had expected from a petite looking girl like you."

I shrug, flashing her the typical Son grin. "Well, what can I say? It's running in the family."

Mrs. Crawford chuckles and closes the door of the dishwasher. "I'm glad to hear that. Nothing is better than a healthy appetite." She dries her hands in a towel, before she starts to speak again. "We should now go back to the living room. I think it's time for you to see the rest of the house."

"You're right…" I agree and together we walk back through the kitchen door, just to find Angela and her grandfather already waiting for us in the corridor.

"So, Pan, are you ready for the big tour?" Angela asks me excitedly.

"Sure," I answer, and I'm sure that my voice doesn't sound nearly as excited as my friend's. The nervousness that I so successfully have pushed away until now suddenly starts to resurface again. No wonder, if you ask me. We're getting to the matter at hand after all right now. Okay Pan, inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale… See? It isn't that difficult. Besides, it's not like it's already decided that the place they're going to show you now is the place where you will spend the next months – make it years – of your life.   Smooth move, Pan, really… Isn't that the exact reason, why you're that nervous?   I jerk again out of my thoughts, when I see them looking at me strangely and my first reaction to that is the one of a typical Son – moving my hand to the back of my head and grinning. "Sorry…"

About twenty minutes later we are again sitting in the living room. And now after I've seen the rest of the house I can say that I really liked to live here. Of course, just like the living room or the kitchen the rest of the house isn't that big, but it is quite cozy. The two rooms the Crawfords want to rent are perfect in my opinion – especially for the low rent they want to have. They are lying under the roof, what makes them seem even smaller than they actually are, but the way they are held in light colors like the living room makes them look friendly and you don't have the feeling to suffocate in there. The smaller room of the two is still occupied with boxes and other stuff, but the larger one is already a bit furnished with a small couch, which could also be used as bed, a coffee table, a closet and a desk. I know this isn't much, but Mrs. Crawford has told me that until they decided to rent those rooms it has been used for guests and this gives me the possibility to use some of my own furniture.

"So, dear," Angela's grandmother says, once we're all seated on the couch and armchairs around the small coffee table in the living room and have a cup of coffee standing in front of us, "what do you think of them? I know that the rooms aren't big and…"

"I love them," I answer honestly, interrupting her. "As well as the rest of the house. Everything here is so friendly and it already feels a lot like home." My voice gets softer and I lower my head when I finish this sentence, suddenly being reminded that I will most likely never see my home again. They seem to notice that something isn't right, but before they can say anything, I start talking again. "I don't care if the rooms are big or not. The most important thing is that they are cozy and I feel good being in them. Besides, it's not that I'm restricted to spend all of my time in them."

Mr. Crawford nods in agreement. "Of course. The whole house is available for you. But that does also include that you have to help my wife and me with the chores and I'm sure there still have some renovations to be done."

"Of course," I tell him.

"Great," Mrs. Crawford says, "well, then I think my husband agrees with me when I say that you and soon also your child will be welcome here in this house. We want you to move in."

"Uh… uhm… thank you – I think…" I stutter. I didn't expect them to agree that fast, if at all. They don't even know me, well not really, but they have to! "But… Uhm… I think that there are still some things you should know about me…"

"Don't worry, dear. Angela told us already a lot about you, even about your decision to live here under a fake name. Neither do we have a problem with that nor with the circumstances of your pregnancy. We know that you want to start new and we want to help you – if it is giving you a place to live or taking care of the child, when you're at work," she tells me.

"Well, thank you. Again. But that's not what I'm talking about. I'm now going to tell you things about me not even Angela knows about. Things about me, my family and my friends that are more than a bit strange and unbelievable and I will just move in, if you still want me to after I told you this." I take a deep breath and wait for anyone to say anything, but nothing happens. They just look at me, urging me to start. "Well, first of all… Angela, do you remember what you always told me after one of our PE classes?"

"Sure… I always said that you must be somehow related to Mr. S… - Wait a minute, don't tell me…"

I force a smile on my face, even though I'm again as nervous and tensed as hell. "I am his granddaughter. My mother is Videl Satan."

"You're the granddaughter of the man who defeated Cell?" Angela now asked excitedly.

"Well… No."

"But you just said…"

"I know, Angela, I know… But that's also a thing that I have to tell you. One of the more unbelievable things. My grandfather Mr. Satan wasn't the one who defeated Cell. Mr. and Mrs. Crawford, I'm sure you have seen the Cell Games on TV, haven't you?" Both nodded. "Do you still remember that small boy that had been with the other fighters? The one with the blond hair?"

"The delivery boy, right?" Angela's grandfather asks.

"Exactly… Not Mr. Satan defeated Cell. This small boy, his name is Gohan, did it. Gohan is the son of the famous martial artist Son Goku and my father," I explain.

"O-okay," Angela throws in. "How could a small boy defeat a terrible monster like Cell?"

"Please Angela, be patient," I say. "I will now get to that and I ask you to not interrupt me. I swear that everything I say is going to be the truth but you must also promise me that you won't tell anyone else about it."

"We promise. Go on," Mrs. Crawford agrees.

"Okay… It all started like this…" I start to tell them about my grandfather Goku, how his grandfather Gohan found him up until Radditz arrived on earth. I explain them everything worth knowing about the Saiyajins, give them a brief summary of the fight against Vegeta and Nappa, Frieza, about Mirai Trunks, the androids, Cell, Buu and of our fight against Bebi and finish my speech with the explanation of what has exactly happened between Trunks and me in the last weeks.

Now, about two hours later, they just sit there deep in their thoughts, trying to digest all the information they got in the last hours. I don't dare to look up. I don't want to see the expressions on their faces. I just sit and wait for them to say something, staring at my clenched hands as if they were the most interesting things on this planet.

"Well," Mr. Crawford finally says, "that was certainly a lot and most of it unexpected if I may say. I mean, my wife and I did always think that there was something wrong with what Mr. Satan had said about his victory over Cell, but this… this is just unbelievable. But you assured us that what you've just told us is the truth and I believe you that, so I think I have no other choice than to believe you the rest. Or what do you think, Beth?"

"You're right. Pan, I admire you to have the courage to tell us this. I think that I speak for all of us, when I say again that we want you – now more than ever – to live with us. You've proven that you have your heart at the right place. It doesn't really matter what species you are or who your family is. The only thing that matters is who you are. So," She now excitedly clapped her hands, pulling me halfway out of the emotional turmoil I was in while she said this. "When do you want to move in?"

I look up, not really knowing if I should laugh or cry. They really want me to move in, even after everything I told them about me, but I can't help but to ask again, "Are you sure? You really want me to move in?"

"Didn't I just say that?" Mrs. Crawford says grinning, her eyes twinkling.

I turn my head to Angela, who hasn't said anything in the last few minutes and just see her grinning at me as well. "See, Pan? I knew that they'd love you." Saying that, she hugs me tightly.

"Okay. Oxygen becoming an issue," I say laughing, even though I don't feel suffocated at all. Angela lets go of me and I turn to her grandparents. "Well… I really don't know what to say…"

"Say you agree," Mrs. Crawford offers.

I smile at her and extend my hand. "I agree."

She takes my hand, but instead of shaking it she pulls me into a hug. "Welcome in your new home, Pan."

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So, finally finished… I already said sorry in my first note, but I want to say it again! SORRY!!!

Eternally yours

ChibiChibi