A/N: See chapter one for disclaimer. I encountered a lovely block for this chapter, and am not completely satisfied with the way it turned out… so, if you find it lacking, my apologies, but it didn't seem to want to be written any other way. *sighs* For all those that felt Trunks needed a good dose of physical pain – my hat off to you. If I were wearing a hat.
Last Time: The duo went to town, we meet Goten, whom Trunks mistakes as Pan's boyfriend, and most importantly - Trunks finally got his pie.
"Bed Battle"
Pan carefully locked the front door, checking it twice, to make sure no unwanted visitors paid her a visit in the middle of the night - animals or otherwise. There seemed to be a slight ache all over her - her legs, arms, shoulders, eyes... the day's events were taking its toll.
It would have been stressful enough dealing with the entire farm while he parents were away, but having to deal with the obnoxious stupid prince who couldn't tell a boyfriend from an uncle was just horrible. Whatever God looked over her was surely chortling madly over her situation right now.
Pan considered herself a mild-tempered girl... well, no, perhaps that wasn't right. It was more truthful to consider herself a collected-person. Usually she could control her temper. And by control, would be refraining from lashing out and clawing the offender to death, though she was not above fuming, foot stamping or a good yell.
Though Trunks was pushing her beyond that.
Satisfied with the state of protection of her house, Pan turned to the narrow staircase and made the painful climb up the stairs. The thought of her bed was most welcoming.
With nothing more than the thought of the soft comfort of her bed to occupy her thoughts, they once again drifted to the invisible Prince. He was so insufferable, she really wasn't sure what to do with him. She had to put up with his ways until she went to the castle with him. It would allow her family to keep ownership of their farm - surely she could deal with him for that cause.
But all she really needed was some sleep. With some shut eye, her patience would be replenished for the next day, and she would be more prepared for whatever idiotic thing Trunks would say or do. Right now she was at her limit.
"You're just a peasant, you flirt with your uncle, I'm a prince, bake me a pie, blah blah blah," she mumbled under her breath. She clenched her fists slightly, moving to open her door at the end of the hallway.
"I just need some rest, then I'll be alright. Because I swear, one more thing from him, and I'll -" muttering, she opened the door, walked in her room, and closed it behind her.
Sighing from the day's hassles, she untied her hair, placing the ribbon on her dresser. Shaking her head slightly, ebony strands spilled over her shoulders and eyes, before she tiredly brushed them aside. Stifling a yawn, she kicked off her shoes, and pulled her apron over her neck. In routine motions she unlaced her dress, letting it fall to the floor, automatically untying each skirt without having to think how it was done. That was the curse of being born a girl - you had to wear so many stupid layers of clothes. She stopped only when she reached her garments - a short white slip, and tiredly took a step out of the pile of fabric that lay at her feet.
Dark eyes glanced down at the pile, wandering if she should pick each up and put them away, or leave them for the morning and give into her body's desire for a bed. Head tilted, she twirled a strand of hair between her fingers - debating.
"Does the strip show end there, or are you going to finish it up?" Pan jumped at the voice, her eyes quickly falling upon the source. Sprawled ever so comfortably on her bed, was Trunks, blue eyes fixed on her, a smirk on his lips.
Pan seethed.
"I didn't know you wanted me so-"
"How dare you," Pan interrupted him, taking the steps separating them towards the bed. He had sat there the entire time while she undressed, never saying a word. And he was in her bed!
She stopped a foot away from him, arms folded across her chest, staring down at him.
"Stand up," she ordered. He complied, a smirk still lining his jaw, his arms folded across his own chest, mimicking her challenge.
Enough was enough.
"You shouldn't have pushed me this far," she whispered angrily, shaking her head. His smirk disappeared and a questioning look glanced his features before she reacted. Unfolding her arms, she brought her hand back and struck in one fluid motion.
The sound of her palm slapping his check resounded throughout the room, and with the dead silence that followed, it offered a most gratifying effect to Pan. Breathing with released fury, she brought her arm back and smiled.
She felt much better now.
Trunks blinked, his face still facing where the slap had pushed it. Slowly, he turned it to face her.
"What was that for?" he asked. Pan frowned.
"I swear I'll slap you again, I don't have the will power to deal with you right now, just go away and let me sleep," Pan mumbled. Shaking her head, she stepped forward to walk around Trunks to her bed, but he followed her step and blocked her path.
With a slight glare at him, she moved to the right, but he followed her again, blocking her escape to the bed, and ultimately, peaceful dream land where she wouldn't have to worry about any stupid princes.
"Trunks, I'm warning you, move," she stressed. Trunks shook his head in reply.
"This is my bed," he said pointedly. Pan raised her eyebrows at him.
"Hn, actually, this is my bed," Pan retorted.
"But I was here first."
"Argh! Damn this, Trunks!" Pan screeched, stomping her foot. "I don't want to deal with you! I just want to crawl into bed and sleep!" she hollered, wildly pointing towards the covers behind Trunks.
"Well, that's fine with me, I'm willing to share," Trunks said, smirk returned.
"It's not up to you whether you can share the bed or not, because it doesn't belong to you," Pan seethed out.
"You know, you're just wasting your own time. If you would just take up my offer, we could both be peacefully sleeping right now," he murmured, taking a step towards her.
Pan watched him carefully through narrowed eyes.
"Why aren't you flipping that I hit you?" Pan asked, suspicious.
"I hit you this morning," Trunks recalled. "If there's one thing I know about better than anyone, it's the art of revenge."
"I didn't slap you out of revenge."
"Oh?"
"I slapped you because you are an ignorant, pig headed ass."
"Not very flattering."
Pan clenched her jaw. It was much easier to deal with a stuck-up prissy prince Trunks, but dealing with this smarmy drawling Trunks... she didn't know how to handle it. And she didn't want to learn how to tonight. Her eyes drifted to the bed, weighing her choices. She knew she was right - it was her bed, and she was sure she could get it in the end, but it really wasn't worth all of the arguing it would take.
"Fine."
"Come again?"
"Bed," she simply stated, taking his moment
of confusement to duck past him and into the covers. They were already warm, and with a content
sigh, she fell into the endless comfort.
Curling an arm under her head, she brought her knees up to her chest, blankets clutched around her, and let her eyelids droop over tired eyes. There was a slight breeze that seeped through the opened window, which was comforting on the rather warm night. Pan smiled to herself, rolling over to find that perfect spot before sleep. Her arm flung out, landing on a hard chest.
Frozen, she quickly opened her eyes to see Trunks gazing curiously at her arm which was resting over him. As if being burned by hot flame, she yanked her arm back, bringing it to her chest and sitting up. Trunks propped himself up on one elbow and looked at her intently.
"Just because we're sharing a bed, doesn't mean you can have me," he commented mildly. Pan shook her head quickly.
"Get out of my bed."
"That wasn't the deal," Trunks said with a click of his tongue.
"Yes, well, having you around here at all wasn't in the deal."
"I graciously offered you some of my bed," Trunks replied.
"It's my bed."
"So you can't be rude and force me out of it."
"It's mine Trunks! Gah, I don't want you here. I thought I wouldn't care, but I do care, okay? I do not want some guy sleeping beside me."
"That'll make sex rather difficult I'd imagine- ow!" Trunks ducked as Pan brought the pillow down over his head again.
"Get out!"
"Never!" he retorted, grabbing a pillow of his own, bringing it up as a shield. "It seems to me that we are at an impasse. You claim the bed to be yours, I got here first, and since sharing isn't an option for you, whatever are we going to do?"
They sat in silence for a minute, staring at each other, sitting side by side in Pan's bead, the covers scrunched at their waists. Pan was the one who broke the stare, turning her eyes to the window. A grin broke across her lips.
"A contest," she whispered. Grin broadening, she turned back to Trunks. "We'll have a contest - whoever wins, gets the bed."
Trunks drummed his fingers on his knee. A contest had potential... it would be fair as well. Nodding slowly, he agreed. Hopping over Trunks and out of the bed, Pan skipped to the door, with some new found energy.
"Then follow me, your royal pighead."
"Now that wasn't called for," he murmured, following her from the room.
*
Bulma sat, composed, on the edge of the bed, silently twirling strands of hair around her fingers. Her hair was let loose to flow down her back, and she had carefully chosen out the baby blue night dress that was supported, yet flowy - Vegeta's favourite. She smiled to herself. Just to spite him.
She had not seen much of Vegeta that day. He had taken to trying to avoid her completely. It had been a long day without even her son to distract her, and while his disappearance nagged at her, she remembered his farewell he had given her, requesting that she not worry. She trusted Trunks with every measure of her heart, so did not feel the need to panic herself over his safety.
Though without Trunks to have conversation with, she had gotten to spend the entire afternoon walking amongst the gardens with Trunks' fiancée. She admitted, the girl was nice. She seemed at ease about Trunks' disappearance as well, and when the subject came up, she would smile softly, before tactfully changing the subject.
Bulma half-wondered if the girl knew more of what happened to Trunks then she let on.
She began to mindlessly braid a few strands of hair, ignoring Vegeta's movements. He was pacing the room back and forth, and back and forth. She had noticed Trunks taking up the pacing habit, and vaguely wondered if Trunks had learnt it from Vegeta or if Vegeta had learnt it from his son.
As soon as she had stepped out of the changing room and made her way to bed, he had stepped in front of her and laid down the law.
"You are not going to sleep until this comes to an end," he had said. She had shrugged, and taken her spot on the bed, sitting, and waiting for him to continue, which is where she was now, twirling her hair absentmindedly.
She was past her blatant ignoral of Vegeta. You could really only pretend to be lifeless for so long before it gets depressing, and you find yourself slipping into the actual lifeless state, and the line between pretend and reality is smudged. Today, she was taking a more carefree attitude. If he wasn't going to admit anything to her, that was fine. She was over it. She could survive this, but she wasn't so sure about her husband.
Taking her eyes from her hair, she cast a glance over at her husband. He was beyond irritated, and she found this saddening for herself. She wanted so very much to throw herself at him, and kiss away whatever was making him feel stressed, but she couldn't. She didn't need to do this for herself - she knew Vegeta loved her. But she needed him to admit it so her son could reap the benefits.
It was all for Trunks.
She wanted Trunks to be happy so much.
Standing up, she let her gown slip to the floor, and took a few steps to the end of the bed, leaning on the rail. The gown trailed past her feet, making a distinct swishing noise as she walked, which Vegeta heard and stopped his pacing to look at her.
"Just say it, Vegeta," she pleaded softly. His dark eyes were narrowed, and he scowled at her. "You know it, Vegeta, you do. You've tossed and turned all last night, you haven't eaten, you aren't yourself. And it's only been three days. Please..."
Vegeta shook his head. She took a step forward.
"Vegeta..."
He gazed at her wordlessly before taking the steps required to close the distance between the them. His hands were on her arms, protectively grasping onto her. His dark eyes met her own. She wanted him to know - to know everything she felt for him.
Couldn't he understand it? It really was simple. She loved him, he loved her, Trunks picks his bride. It wasn't worth all of this anger... but it was worth fighting for. She would win in this, or she would fail at everything.
"I love you, Vegeta," she whispered, eyes avoiding his own, choosing to stare at the tip of his nose instead. He made a low noise in his throat before pulling her to him, covering mouth with mouth.
Bulma wanted to throw her arms around him, let him carry her to the bed, and spend the rest of the night wildly making up for the past days of solitude. She wanted to ease her husband out of whatever stress was harboring over him. She wanted to loose herself right then, but... she couldn't.
With all the willpower she had ever called upon, she pulled away from him, shaking her head.
"You don't understand do you Vegeta? You don't understand at all," she whispered, biting her lip, tears welling in the corner of her eyes.
"What don't I bloody understand?" he cursed, the first words he had said in a while. "You want me, I want you," he said, crossing his arms, traditional smirk gone, as if he was actually making an attempt to try and talk to her.
"It's not about want," Bulma protested. He closed the distance she had created between the two, arms at his side, traces of anger gone from his face. His eyebrows slanted in concentration, his eyes rapidly taking in her appearance.
She had seen the look on a few select occasions before. She remembered the first time she had seen it, while she was half-asleep with the exhaustion of pregnancy, and he had been lying beside her, staring at her swollen stomach.
"I'll be a father," the words barely qualified as a whisper, the same look of thought and sincerity on his features. It was the look he wore... Vegeta would open up his heart... he had to...
"You need me... I need you," he whispered, breath brushing her neck. Bulma shook her head, hating herself for turning him away. Vegeta didn't open up verbally often, but if she was in this, she was in it for one hundred percent. Tears slid down her cheeks unnoticed.
"It's not about need, either," she whispered back, his eyes on her. "It's... it's when I'm old, and wrinkly, and ugly, and not good for wanting or needing... it's to wake up and see me as if nothing's changed. To want to go to bed, just to watch me sleep... it's wanting and needing, when there's nothing to want or need..."
More tears followed, her voice was cracking, she was afraid of what he might say to her. She loved him... what would she do if he truly didn't love her back?
"Vegeta...?"
*
She sat regally on the throne, legs dangling over the arm rest, one hand resting to the fall and rise of her stomach, the other's finger tips brushing the red carpet beneath her.
She was rather bored.
Her blonde hair fell around her face, shielding her eyes from view. She had a mad urge to brush it behind her shoulders, but wanted to keep the small shroud of privacy. She wanted her eyes shielded, so no one could catch the emotions on her face, and guess to her thoughts.
After all, she was supposed to be a lovely princess-to-be. She should be proper, perhaps a little saddened at her prince's sudden disappearance... but still, she wanted to be able to walk freely around the castle without anyone being suspicious of her.
But who would suspect her anyhow? This worked to her advantage, having no guards or spies wondering what she was up to, but all the same, she didn't have much time. The prince would only be so long finding the girl who could see him. She smiled to herself, wishing she could have seen his face when he realized that the girl Pan was the one to break the spell. Yes, she knew that Trunks had found her, but Pan could not leave yet. The girl had obligations.
But either way, she would have to hurry. They would only be a few days in returning to the castle. Her plan had to be completed by then, or it would have been all pointless. And she had so much to do, with so little time. She hated wasting it, sprawled on the throne, waiting.
Waiting for her master to come in and lecture her on further instructions.
Sighing, she turned in the chair getting comfortable for a long wait.
*
"And just where are we going exactly?" Trunks asked, as Pan continued to lead him through her property.
"Well," Pan started, turning around to face him, smile on her face, walking backwards. "We agreed on a contest to see who got the bed, right? Which I don't really get, you know there are other bedrooms in my house," she said, eyebrow raised. Trunks grinned himself, but didn't reply.
He marveled slightly at how the two of them had both been so tired only minutes before, desperately trying to find solitude under warm covers, yet now, at the prospect of a challenge, they were awake, and ready. Did he really want the chance to show her up that much? He had always been competitive, he would admit, but what did he have to prove to this girl?
He knew the answer, but became more clear at the deliberate focusing on the issue. He wanted to prove Pan wrong. He could shout all night to her how great he was, him being a prince, him having power, him doing... whatever. But it was all talk and no show. So far, he had not been able to get one up since he arrived at her farm. Despite her class, she was able to always be superior in some way.
Even worse than this, for it was utterly wrong for a peasant to rise above a prince, and a female peasant no less, was the fact that he didn't mind.
Ever since he set out form the castle, he was being much more passive. He noticed it in himself. Things that would have irked him on the throne, he let slip past here. He wasn't positive what was making him act in this way. It could be because he was invisible, and he had subconsciously just known he would have to be bend to his viewer's will. Or it could be the overall sense that life away from the castle had. There were no stuck up noses to deal with, no etiquette to master, no bowing, or nodding, or anything. He could be whoever he was past all that. Who he truly was would be able to be shown.
But for how long?
Trunks cast his gaze ahead of him, on the leading form of Pan. A part of him desperately wanted to despise the girl, but that part of him was buried under a pile of reject holiday pheasants, terribly rotting. Besides, it was much more fun to taunt and tease her until she lost her temper. Much less work for him as well.
"Here we are," Pan announced, dragging Trunks from his thoughts. He stopped walking, his eyes glancing ahead in the direction Pan was looking. In front of them stretched a dark, sketchy surface, with light resting on some spots.
"What is it?"
"It's a pool, idiot," Pan retorted, hand on hips.
"Ooh, a pool. What are we going to do with a lake?" he asked, recognizing the dark, rocking movement as the water, and the glowing further out from the reflected moonlight. Traveling his gaze upwards, he could clearly see where the water ended, and the tree line began on the other side. It wasn't that large of a water hole, though by the soft splashing noise, he guessed there was a small waterfall filling it, though he couldn't exactly see it. The moonlight only brightened so much of the naturally made pool.
"We're going to have a race to swim across," Pan explained, grinning. "It's not that far, and really not that deep." Trunks slowly turned to face her.
"You want me to get in the water, and swim over there?"
"And back," Pan said with a nod. "Technically, we'll both be going. It's a race, see? Whoever wins gets the bed. Fair and square." Trunks eyed the water wearily.
"Just for tonight," he conditioned. Pan raised her eyebrows, but nodded in agreement.
"Fine," she replied, taking a step towards the water. She reached down and began untying the boots she had slipped on before trekking from the house. Trunks' eyes were on the water, his thoughts lost in its depths.
He was a prince, and a damn good one at that. But around this girl, he couldn't seem to act like one. But then, maybe he was just letting his true self- he had already been through this. He didn't know what was going on, but the words of his fiancée rung eerily in his ears.
You can't love someone without befriending them; yet you can't even do that. You don't know friendship. So, with this little spell, hopefully you will learn how to make and keep friends. Then, you will be ready to love.
There was no way he could be friends with Pan. They would never be friends. They hated each other, didn't they? Yes, she was a silly farmer girl with an unhealthy attitude, and he was the big bad prince, stealing her farm. Of course he would be giving it back to her... but, no, they would never be friends.
To form a friendship, there has to be some immense bond, a sharing of interests of having personalities just click. But what was there to share or have in common with Pan? She was bratty, annoying, loud-mouthed, she spoke her mind, she could make good apple pie, but... he was a prince. And a good looking one at that. And when it came to looks, Pan was just-
"Ready?" she asked, forcing him to tear his eyes away from the water and look at her. He found his jaw wanting to slide. Yes, he had seen her taking her clothes off in her room, but...
Pan began to tiptoe into the water, wading her way out, getting used to the temperature. Her long hair hung all around her shoulders and back, her cloak left in a pile by her boots, leaving her in the short under-dress from before. She bent down, cupped some water in her hands, and brought it up over her head, letting it rain down her face and back, shivering at the coldness of it.
And when it came to looks, Pan was just-
She turned, eyes questioning.
Pan was just-
"What's the matter your majesty? The deep dark scary water making you go weak in the knees?" Pan taunted from the water. Trunks' eyes scanned the dark surface of the water, shaking his head. His gaze fell back on Pan, her wet hair clinging to her shoulders and back, the water droplets twinkling in the moonlight, her garments swaying around her.
"No Pan... it's not the water that's making me go weak in the knees," he whispered before slowly taking a step out.
---
*shuffles foot* Leave me a review, please? I'd like to know what you all think, want… give yourself a name, instead of just being a number on my statistic dial. Luv and cookies to all.
-Angel Eevee