Disclaimer: I do no own any of the characters. I do not make any money from this; I do this without making ANY kind of compensation (though I love good reviews ^_^ ). Anyway, on with le fic!

EVERYBODY HURTS.....UNTIL THEY FIND SOMEONE

CHAPTER TWO:

The day had started like any other for the blonds girl; she and her brother went out and had some 'fun' and ended up running into an acquaintance.

Now while this may sound like some stupid teen movie, it is in fact a fairly vague description of Android 18's day.

Leaving out the part where the acquaintance skewered her brother with his bare hands.

Now she and her brother's killer, Trunks Briefs, were locked in physical combat....but something didn't seem right. The young man had beaten 17 in mere minutes, without even trying, or lifting a muscle for the most part.

So why was it taking so long for him to do anything to HER? she silently thought to herself as she blocked another of his kicks.

The young man in question was asking himself the exact same thing; they had been fighting for well over an hour now, and they were none the worse for the wear. His blue jacket had been torn to shreds, and 18's tights were tattered, along with most of her clothing. Her lip had been bleeding, and a gash was running along Trunks' scalp. There was a small bruise forming on his jaw, and she was beginning to look tired for the first time he'd known her.

Still they kept at it, their punches, kicks, and ki blasts completely destroying the grasslands they had crashed into. 18 hit him in the stomach, and he punched her in the jaw, but they continued fighting.

Trunks was beginning to feel tired, and he slammed his fist into her stomach, sending her careening backwards before he flew at top-speed behind her and hit her with everything he had.

Surprisingly, she was still alive.

AND in one piece.

Trunks looked down at his hands, fully aware that he hadn't put his full power into that blow; he meant to, but a part of him refused that want, and instead he hit her with a lot more self-restraint than he gave himself credit for.

He watched her stand up, wiping the blood away from her mouth, and something inside him leapt. He felt a crimson hue come to his face even as he flew in to resume the attack, only to get smacked in the face by a mean left hook. As he flew back into a small hill and completely passed through it, he wondered what it was exactly that he was going through.

18 couldn't believe it herself; not only was she still alive, but she was actually holding back against him. The thought that he killed 17 mercilessly repeated in her mind, but every time she went to land the killing blow, she stopped and instead made some weak-ass punch or kick that was blocked and countered. Not even her energy attacks were going at full power anymore. She was confused as Hell; this had NEVER happened to her before, even when she fought Trunks for the first time.

He had been a bit younger then, not as.....masculine as he was now. But there was something in his attitude, and the way he kept fighting them, that made him stick in her head. So while 17 had been busy blowing stuff up, she had been sitting around, thinking of the strange young man who continually defied them and was beaten down again and again. When she thought a bit too much about him, 17 would always poke her with something – like a stick – and make some stupid wisecrack about her daydreaming.

As if an android could dream.

But every time he woke her up from her musings, there would be a faint blush on her cheeks, and he'd point and smirk at her, and say something about her needing a little 'something-something.' She cracked him one upside the head then, and stomped on him until he laughingly apologized for being a complete and utter hentai (pervert).

And now, he was gone, and she was SUPPOSED to be facing a certain death.....and that blush had come back. As she flew forward and her fist meant Trunks' jaw again, she could feel herself holding back again, as his head didn't snap back quickly enough, and he kicked her in the chin as he flipped back in the air.

They resumed blasting at one another, hoping desperately that they'd stop holding back, that it was nerves (or short-circuits in 18's case) keeping them from doing what had to be done. However, when each blast hit, they could tell that they hadn't put enough force into it, and instead of disintegrating each other, they were just knocked back a mile or so.

Desperate now, the two flew back at each other, and began wailing on the other, their fists blurs as they lashed out at one another. 18 kneed Trunks in the nose, and smashed her elbow into his neck, but he countered with a jab to her stomach, and then with a Boot to her face. Both could tell that they weren't even trying anymore, that this battle could (and would) go on forever, because neither of them had the heart to kill the other.

Panting, Trunks flew in and grabbed 18's wrists. She wriggled free, and they locked hands, trying to force the other into submission. They continued this for what seemed like an eternity, kicking and kneeing one another, only to find that their hands would let go, that their grip wouldn't be broken. They were bleeding from numerous cuts, scrapes, and gashes, but still they fought on, trying to force themselves to kill the other....

...and finding that they couldn't, that at the last minute, something interfered and they instead resumed their futile attacks.

Soon they were face-to-face, their noses almost touching. They had their eyes narrowed in an anger that wasn't there, their hands locked together in what should have been submission grips but were instead almost tenderly intertwined fingers, the feeling of skin-to-skin contact making a warm blush creep up their faces until they were both red.

At the same time, they moved closer in an attempt to dislodge each other...

....and found their lips pressed together.

Their eyes went wide as the realized what had happened, but instead of pushing away, they moved closer into the embrace, their hands separating and finding themselves wrapped around the others' waist or neck. They were both a dark red color at first, but the blush faded, and their eyes closed as they let the moment overwhelm them. They slowly fell to the ground, their bodies close together, as hungry lips kissed and tasted what they could of the others' body.

As they fell softly on the ground, Trunks pulled 18's body against his and ran his hands through her soft, golden hair, his own returning to its original lavender hue. She looked up at him, the anger gone, the hate gone, even the thought of 17 dead gone. All that mattered was now.

All that mattered was this moment.

They pulled at each other's clothes, not caring where they were, just grateful that they were still some trees and high grasses around where they were, to give them shelter and warmth. The anger inside them had been turned to passion, the hate into love, and the thoughts of the dead were cast aside.

All that mattered.....was them.................

Slowly Trunks woke up.

He could feel the wind blowing through his hair, and over his bare chest. He could also feel a warm, equally naked body against his own. He smiled, and rested his head against the soft hair, tracing circles on the other's smooth, soft skin.

18 also awoke, her eyes closed, and she 'mmmh'-ed as she felt the strong hand moving its way gently across her back. She smiled as she felt the other's chest rise and fall, feeling his warmth, his love.

Then they remembered.

EVERYTHING.

With a shock, they looked at each other with wide eyes, not believing their memories or their eyes. They pinched each other, hoping it was some kind of dream, or delusion.

No such luck.

They went a bright red as they remembered what they had done; not just that, but also HOW they had done it, and the MANY times they had.

Fifteen hours they'd been at it. And only six of those were spent fighting, while the rest were......

Trunks just stared at 18, and she just stared at him.

They were still in each other's arms, still unclothed.

The feelings were still there; they always had been.

From the moment 18 first beat young Trunks up, he was stuck in her mind, and she in his. At first, what they thought was hate, or stupidity, turned out to be love.

The thought ran through their heads.

'I love him.'

'I love her.'

They couldn't believe it, but it was true. The evidence was there, as were the strewn remains of their clothing and the flattened depression in the tall grass made by their needing bodies.

They lay there, she on top of him, for what seemed like another eternity, the shock and disbelief slowly fading away, and the feelings they had shared the night before returning like a rushing wave of water upon a dry beach.

They stared into each other's eyes, and felt a twinge of embarrassment to be seen like this, as though the absence of clothing made some kind of difference as to who they were. And perhaps it did, perhaps it didn't.

It was Trunks who finally spoke, when he felt his voice return to him; 18's throat was sore, and she numbly remembered screaming her lungs out for those nine hours they shared together.

"So....uh...what now?" he asked lamely, as she blinked up at him.

"I......don't have....a clue," she semi-croaked at him, rubbing her throat and smiling as she rested her head against his chest once more. "How about....we just stay here and enjoy the moment?"

Trunks slowly nodded, a smile coming to his face as well.

And there they lay, watching only each other, barely noticing the destruction that they had cause fifteen hours before.

TBC..................

End Note: So, what did you think? And sorry if it got a bit cheesy, or overdone; it just came out that way. And yes, there IS more to tell. A great deal more. Only time will tell what's in store for these two, and what would Bulma say when she finds out? Well, I guess we'll find out next time, hai? ^_^