AN: Sick ::Turns green:: Do not own ::Runs to the bathroom:: Bleh!
Chapter Three
"This is a restricted area," the low voice announced.
He was tall with dark features to go along with his icy blue eyes. He wore a light colored shirt that was tucked into his pants loosely so it pooled out abut his waist.
"It is?" Pan gulped, and became extremely alarmed when the guy moved closer to her.
His face stopped a scant inch from hers as he seemed to take in her features.
"You resemble someone," his eyes finally landed on hers, "But who?"
"You better back off right now pal," Pan tried to take back her hand only for his grip to tighten, "I mean it! I have powerful friends not to mention I'll kick your ass!"
She was never good with uncomfortable situations.
She could only watch as his expression changed into what could only be called realization.
"Videl. You look like a woman named Videl," he released her hand while still studying her features.
"You know my mom?" Pan questioned as she rubbed her hand, he had quite a grip.
Amusement danced in his blue eyes though his face didn't change.
"You shouldn't be here," he said softly.
Pan let out a startled, "Hey!" as he picked her up with one hand and easily tossed from the room. Only her quick reflexes saved her from hitting the wall at full speed.
With her blood boiling she got back on her feet and stomped up to the door. No one man-handles Son Pan and gets away with it!
Just as she was about it rip the door of it's hinges a familiar voice called her.
"Pan!"
"Uncle Goten?" She turned on her heel hoping he hadn't seen her attempting to-
"What are you doing?" Goten frowned.
"Nothing," she smiled brightly, "Where's Trunks?"
"Right here," Trunks came out from behind her uncle, "Don't tell me you forgot to tell her the rules Goten."
"No, he did," Pan jumped in before her uncle could put his foot in his mouth, "You see what happened was . . . I heard them paging for you Trunks and . . . I thought you guys left already and so I ducked into that room not realizing it was forbidden."
Pan nearly smiled as she realized how she could get back at that guy without lifting a finger.
"And then, this guy yelled at me and threw me out of the room," she pouted, "I was so surprised he would use violence that I . . . froze. I'm sorry. . ."
She put her head down for effect.
"He did what?" Her uncle exploded.
"This is unacceptable behavior for any employee," Trunks growled, "He was in this room, Pan?"
She nodded, careful not to let them see her smile.
"Don't worry Pan, Trunks will take care of this," Goten patted her back as Trunks disappeared through the door.
As much as she hated to be treated like a little kid, it really came in handy sometimes.
**
Zarah glanced up and then back down when his cousin entered his workspace.
"Zarah," Trunks demanded, "Did you see the guy who harassed Pan?"
"Pan?" Zarah lifted a dark brow.
"Goten's niece," Trunks supplied, scanning the room impatiently.
The room was one of many interlocking areas.
"I'll take care of it, Trunks, you can be sure that he will not cause anymore problems," Zarah allowed an evil gleam to enter his eyes.
"All right, thanks Zarah," Trunks sighed, "I'm out for the day."
Zarah smiled, "Have fun."
"I'll try," Trunks waved good-bye.
Zarah turned back to his work, well, that was amusing. Too bad, she won't be back for me to play with.
**
"Come on let's go," Trunks ushered Goten and Pan down the hall.
"Wait, Trunks," Goten planted his feet, "What did you do to him?"
Trunks grinned evilly, "I let Zarah handle him."
"Zarah?" Goten's eyes widened.
"Who?" Pan felt left out as her uncle started laughing.
"My cousin," Trunks chuckled at his friend's antics.
"Don't worry Pan," Goten threw an arm around her shoulder, "He'll take care of it."
"Yeah, you might as well let my dad handle it." Trunks laughed.
"Your dad isn't that bad Trunks," Pan frowned at him, almost scolding.
Hanging out with her Grandma Chichi had taken it's effect.
"You haven't seen him mad, Pan," Trunks smirked at her, "Just ask your Uncle Goten about the time we snuck into my dad's--"
"Trunks!" Goten slapped his hand over his best friends mouth, "She doesn't need to know about that! Besides, it was a long time ago and, suffice it to say, you wouldn't want to see him mad."
Pan watched Trunks escape her uncle's grasp playfully and start a mock fight in the hallway. It was amazing. She had never seen Trunks Briefs anything but the simple serious business man and here he was acting like a carefree teenager.
"President Trunks? Please report to your office."
Goten and Trunks paused in mid-lunge, and nodded to each other.
"If we're going to escape then we have to leave now," Trunks sighed as he straightened his tie.
"Let's go!" Goten pulled the tie off his friend and headed for the door.
"Wait!"
The two friends turned to Pan in surprise.
"I wanted to visit Bra," Pan fidgeted nervously, "I haven't seen her in a long time."
Trunks nodded and pointed at the door to the stairwell, "Just take the stairs all the way down. No one knows she's down there except for us so you won't have to worry about security guard."
"Why can't I take an elevator?"
"Because the elevator doesn't go to the basement. You can only get there by stairs." Trunks shrugged, "I guess I'll see you later. Come on Goten."
Pan didn't wait around for them to turn the corner. She was on the steps in a flash and down them in a jip.
Pan stopped before a foreboding looking door. All it was missing was a skull an cross-bones. With a bated breath she raised her arm to knock on the door.
"Pan!" Bra opened the door causing the Pan to jump.
"What are you doing here?" The blue-haired saiyan cocked her head to the side.
"Hi to you too," Pan tried to calm her racing heart with her hand.
Bra smiled sweetly at her and stepped back into the lab.
"Welcome to my domain," Bra motioned for Pan to follow her, "Touch anything and I will be forced to kill you."
"Ha, ha, very funny," Pan glanced at the tables curiously.
Some of these . . . machines look similar to the ones upstairs, Pan glanced at Bra.
"What?" Bra crossed her arms as she leaned against a wall.
"Nothing," Pan shook her head, better not tell Bra that she had went into the restricted areas.
"So what do I owe this visit?" Bra dropped her arms as she straightened from the wall.
"Well, I haven't seen you since you got this job," Pan shrugged uncomfortably, "I thought maybe we could hang out."
Bra watched her friend fidget with a small smile. They were the z girls, all they needed was Maron and Sasoli to complete their inner circle. Life was never easy when you are a girl but add saiyan blood . . .
Well, let's just say it didn't help. For what guy would want to date a girl who could easily kick his ass?
"I guess I can take a break," Bra said softly, not missing the gratitude on Pan's face. "Come on, I'll take you out for lunch," Bra unhooked her coveralls and set them neatly on her chair.
Pan's face turned red her friend's outfit, "Your dad lets you out of the house in that?"
Bra glanced down at her outfit of red tube top and miniskirt, "Why is there something wrong?"
"Don't get me wrong Bra, you look great in it but it is very revealing . . . My dad would kill me for even attempting to wear the skirt," Pan circled her friend incredulously.
"Isn't your dad stricter than mine?" Pan met her friend's amused eyes.
"Only when it comes to training," Bra laughed, "Whenever the subject comes up, my mom just reminds him of his spandex."
"Your dad wears spandex?" Pan was shocked.
"It's not really spandex," Bra grinned, "But it resembles it to a tee. You see, originally the suit was part of his uniform so it was made especially for combat purposes. Mom synthesized the material and made more for my dad as well as us to train in."
"Did you market this material?"
"Of course," Bra nodded,"It is great for exercise."
"Oh," Pan bit her lip.
"Would you like a sample?" Bra brushed past her friend, "I have like ten of them here that I need to get rid of so it would be a great help if you took one."
Bra pulled out one of the suits and presented it to pan.
"Bra," Pan eye the small thing, "I know I'm not as tall as you are but I'm not that small."
"What do you mean?" Bra was wearing her clueless expression.
"It's too small Bra," Pan growled.
Bra frowned puzzled when her brow smoothed, "One size fits all, Pan."
"Oh," Pan took the suit, "Thanks."
"No problem," Bra smiled, "Now to lunch."
**
Zarah's stomach growled.
H cursed softly as he laid down his delicate instruments down on the table. As much as he liked the benefits of his saiyan blood, he hated the hunger that came with it.
He flicked the lights off and exited the forbidden room to head for his office.
Zarah had known his Aunt Bulma to isolate herself in her lab for almost fourteen hour periods with nothing but coffee to sustain her. This was impossible for any saiyan to accomplish. The body demanded sustenance fairly regularly and would only go on hold for battle.
He could still remember the one occasion he had forgone food . . . His sister had found him on the floor unconscious. This was yet another reason his mom hated his job.
He entered his office and nearly launched himself at the intruder, his secretary.
"What the hell do you think you are doing in my office?" He demanded stomping up to her.
"I . . ." she swallowed, "You didn't say when I could go on a lunch break so I thought I would wait for you."
Her back hit the wall and Zarah stopped before their bodies touched.
"You are not allowed in my office without my permission, is that understood?" Zarah snarled at her.
"Yes sir," she squeaked.
"Hn," Zarah gave her one last scathing glare as he went to his desk.
He sat down and quickly did a scan of his computer to see if anything had been messed with. Satisfied that everything was as it should be, Zarah glanced up to see his secretary still glued to the wall.
"Come here Terry."
Slowly she peeled herself away from the wall and inched toward him.
"Sit down."
She took her seat in front of him with her head down.
Zarah shook his head, this woman had no fight in her. . . If it had been Sasoli or Bra, they would have snarled right back at him. Then a war would be declared until a winner emerged. At the very least they would have kneed him for invading their personal space. Not that he wanted to be kicked there but that wasn't the point.
"I'm sorry, sir, it will never happen again." She nearly whimpered.
Is she going to cry? Zarah thought with alarm, damn.
"No, I'm sorry. I may have overreacted to your presence," Zarah nearly winced, hoping his mom wouldn't ever get wind of this.
She would have knocked out the intruder before realizing who it was. In fact, his mom had down that to his Aunt 18 when she had wanted to visit his dad. Not knowing or caring his mom had smashed his Aunt's head into a rock until she stopped moving. Don't get them wrong, though, they got along fine . . . now.
Terry lifted big tearful eyes to him, and Zarah felt unease crawl up his spine.
"No, it's my fault," she sniffed, "I'm new at this and--"
"You mentioned you didn't know when to take your lunch?" Zarah interrupted desperately.
Terry nodded.
"Right now."
"What?" She looked as clueless as she felt.
"Lunch," Zarah grinned at her, happy to have diverted tears. "You may take your lunch hour now."
"Oh," she brightened, "You received a message."
"Go on," Zarah turned back to his computer.
"She didn't give me her name but she said she would be unable to eat with you today," Terry watched him closely.
"Did she say why?" Zarah's tone was annoyed.
"No," Terry lowered her eyelashes, "Is she your girlfriend?"
Zarah stopped typing to look at her, "She's my cousin."
"Oh," Terry blushed, "I just thought . . ."
"Why would think Bra is my girlfriend?"
Terry talked to the desk.
"I heard you didn't date and when I got the call then I thought, that's why."
Zarah eyed Terry very cautiously before returning to his work.
The silence stretched with only the sound of typing to disturb it.
Terry finally raised her head and since Zarah was busy, he missed the hope in her eyes.
"Why don't you date?"
Zarah's fingers stumbled on the keyboard for probably the first time in his life. He glared at the girl in front of him and growled his answer.
"Saiyans don't date."
End of Chapter Three