And here's another chapter! I want you to know that this one came in a very random series of inspirations in very random places. One while I was in church—if I burn in hell you'll know what happened—one in the car on the way back from my sisters', mothers', and my trip from the tux shop (my sister's getting married), and one while I was cleaning the kitchen. Strange, eh? Updates might not be as frequent, I'm working on several upcoming projects, an awesome, kick-butt website, my sister's getting married Nov. 1st, and I just got a job—today! Anywayz, wish me luck, I'm nervous I'll mess up everything. Yeah, onto something more pleasant. So yeah, enjoy the chapter—did I mention it was written entirely with the Escaflowne soundtrack in the background? Random fact you might want to know…for a strange, weird, stalker-esque reason. rolls eyes Ignore me, and enjoy the chapter!
"You know, they're being a lot more attentive to my opinions as of late." Pan and Trunks sat in a cozy café, sipping mochas and cappuccinos several days after Trunks' 'encounter' with the mothers.
"Maybe they caught on to what they were doing." He sipped his tall cappuccino and then set it down swiftly. "You know, maybe Eighteen said something!" He looked as if the mystery had been solved thanks to his genius. "I noticed how, at the caterer's, she was the only one who gave your ocean—water—whatever-side wedding any thought. I think maybe she's caught on with everything." Pan looked thoughtful as her eyes stayed focused on the caffeine shack logo on his styrofoam cup.
"Maybe…" She spoke slowly, undecidedly, but Trunks wasn't nervous. She was only contemplative, not investigative.
"Good mocha?" He asked, changing the subject, stirring his cappuccino absentmindedly. She nodded, still thinking, and he dove for a chance to get her out of this pondering state. "Do you want a cinnamon roll? I was going to get one…"
"Sure, that sounds good." She blinked, then produced a smile that relieved him. He jogged over to the counter, his mind suddenly realizing perhaps she would have even more time to ponder with him gone, but he dismissed it—he was overreacting.
A friendly girl with a cute, short, flipped out hairdo greeted him cheerfully, and they joked over her not being able to realize which scone he was pointing to through the glass case. Unbeknownst to him she had known the entire time exactly which two scones he had wanted, and was buying for time to talk and laugh with him.
And could she help it? She was a nice enough girl, cute, and sweet—even the nice girls hit on him in their own way. Oh, the bulging head Trunks would have if he knew exactly how many girls glanced twice, or found excuses to walk by him, or keep him talking to them longer. They couldn't help it, though—none of them—and so even the nice girls were caught in the act.
"$4.27 please." She said with a smile, holding out her hand to accept the offered change. "Thank you." Again she cheerfully smiled before bowing her head to put the change away, and he went to his table with his wallet a little more empty.
The cashier dashed off to the wall phone and dialed hastily before cradling the phone between her shoulder and ear.
"Jess?" She quizzed when someone answered. "You'll never guess who I met!" She squealed. The conversation that followed included more girlish squeals and Kinna's, the cashier's, explanation of every minuscule detail and how she had exchanged her own money in the cash register for the change he had given her.
"I have it in my hand!" She nearly shouted, then giggled. Oh, if only Trunks knew of the fuss that was being made over him. However, he didn't know, and was sharing half of his own scone with Pan who had decided they were delicious.
"F'nk ooh," She mumbled, her mouth full of the blueberry confection, and Trunks shook his head, though he smiled nonetheless. This was soon followed by a request for him to retrieve some more, which he did without complaint, allowing the cashier some more souvenir money, and the excuse to call "Jess" again.
This time she ate a little more slowly, and he had come prepared with enough that he could have a whole one to himself as well. They enjoyed their scones in basic silence for several moments before he spoke.
"What are you thinking about?" His cerulean eyes seemed to dazzle with his pure love for her as they rested upon her face that was so serene as she sipped her mocha thoughtfully, watching the mud-colored foam float upon the surface.
She smiled without a word, a happy, reminiscent one. She blinked, her eyes opening to reveal that they gazed on him.
"How did it happen? She mused. "Look at the road we traveled to be here, drinking from paper cups something that isn't necessarily good for us." She laughed. "When did you realize you loved me?" She asked.
He looked upon her face, the one that was intoxicatingly delicate and beautiful to him. Like an angel with a lush, dark halo about her she was breathtaking, sitting with a tan raincoat wrapped around her, cradling a cup in her slender fingers, her lips in a dewy, baby pink pout.
"It was when we went shopping for your clothes, and you came out in that purple dress that you first took my breath away. It was that night when we danced on water that I first longed to kiss you—in the elevator the desire was so strong that I did, and felt foolish and rejected with you seemed to not have any reaction, any change in your expression afterwards." She laughed silently.
"It was when I saw you and Larkin in the airport that I wished my life would end I was so crushed.
"And when I saw you at Christmas I thanked Dende for giving me a second chance—even though I thought I was the furthest thing from your mind I had to tell you I loved you more than the breath I have to breath to live—more than life itself." Her eyes, liquid bright, blinked in an attempt to clear the haze she was seeing.
"But, you asked when I first loved you…" He seemed to bite his tongue thoughtfully for a moment. "I have loved you since that stormy day that I comforted you." She smiled, just barely. "You mean since I loved you in that romantic way that I do now, though." Her smile, though still faint, showed the smallest bit of teeth as it broadened.
"I can't tell you, because it's been so gradual I don't even remember when it started. To me it seems like I've loved you all my life." He concluded. Her smile grew to its natural, Son state, and he drew his tongue over his right side of front teeth through his own smile.
"You remember that?" She questioned. "I thought it was something you forgot a long time ago." Her head shook in a musing way. "I thought that was a memory that only I cherished."
"How could I forget it? He exclaimed. "It had such an impact on me…" They exchanged smiles.
"There was never a day after that that I didn't have a crush on you." She reminisced, shaking her head, and he laughed.
"So, let's talk about this crush that you had for so long." He leaned back in his chair, and it was her turn to laugh.
~*
"Ok, ladies." Bulma said in a business-like tone, plopping down in her seat, opening up a notebook and uncapping a pen.
Eighteen raised a hand like she was in a classroom, and all eyes turn to her.
"I think she might like a bayside wedding." She commented after clearing her throat, and Bulma's pen scribbled away.
~*
Trunks and Pan walked into Capsule Corps. hand in hand after their morning out, and Bulma greeted them directly.
"Pan, can we grab you for a moment?" She asked casually. "Wedding stuff." She explained. Pan's brows rose in mild surprise; she had the entire day free of wedding stuff—she remembered only too well how much had been switched and arranged to allow that.
"Sure, Bulma." She let go of Trunks' hand and he went into the kitchen in search of food. "What's up? I thought I had the day off." She questioned, following Bulma into the den.
"Oh, something came up, that's all. It won't take long." All the mothers were in the den when they came in, wearing bright, smiling faces. "There are some changes we need to make, and we want your opinion."
~*
"The wedding's going to be great." Pan smiled, standing on the deck with Eighteen.
"I'm glad. Are you happy with everything?" Eighteen pried good-naturedly.
"Oh, yes!" Pan answered happily. Then she grabbed Eighteen's arm and gave her a little squeeze. "Now tell me what happened." She prodded cheerfully, though infinitely serious.
~*
Finally when Trunks and Pan were alone together, she grabbed him by the collar and shoved him against the nearest wall.
"You meddling prick!" She snapped, and it took him several seconds to realize what she was talking about. "How dare you!"
"I was only trying to help." He apologized when she had released him. "I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings," He soothed. "but I really was only trying to help." She plopped into an easy chair and leant her head on her fingers with a deep sigh.
"Panny," He comforted, brushing his fingers though her hair, but she jerked away. "I'm sorry." He nearly whispered. She stood up briskly and left the room without a word.
He let himself fall into the chair she had just vacated, and he sighed, shaking his head.
How had he been so stupid?
~*
Pan paced Bura's vacant bedroom, her arms folded, her legs shuffling briskly. She knew he had only been trying to help—but did he honestly realized what he'd done? Did he even stop to think of the consequences? She had told him, hadn't she, that she didn't want them to know her feelings?
She plopped on the bed, her palms flat against her forehead in a frustrated position. Did he honestly—did he honestly—did he…. She sighed. Why was such a little thing bothering her like this?
She was so irritated with—everything. Not to mention she was irritated that she was irritated. Irritated that everything as of late irritated her. She sighed, again. She sure must be a bundle of joy at present. This thought made her roll her eyes, but she couldn't quite pin why she had.
With nothing else to do she sighed yet again, mad at him, mad at her family and friends, but most especially mad at herself. What had they truly done that she should be mad at them anyway? It was on this thought that she rolled over and fell asleep.
~*
Trunks knocked lightly on Bura's door; he knew Pan had come in here. When no one answered he gently pushed it open to find Pan lying on the bed, her face to the wall. He crept into the room quietly, sliding the door shut as careful as possible, and walked over to the bed and sat on the edge.
He drew an arm over to the other side of her head and leant on it for support, his other hand gently brushing at her hair and stroking her face. He wished she knew how much he felt bad about what he had done…but inside he knew she did, she just needed time to cool off.
He brushed a long, wispy bang from her eye and sighed. He loved her so much…how could any person love another person so much? He never had imagined he would ever love anyone or anything this deeply, but he did, and he'd risk anything for this love he hadn't ever believed in until it had happened.