And here I am, back with another chapter! Short space of time between chapter postings, eh? I really should be working on my other fics, since I so recently updated this one, however, smack, I got inspiration to write and wrote it. Then didn't save it. +what a dope – long, sad story+ So I had to re-write it and I'm pretty pleased, although disappointed. +the original was grand, though maybe that's probably just my opinion since I was in such a writing mood when I wrote it+ Anywayz, hope you like this chapter, the plot twist, and the two new characters. +I'm on LOVE with Jace Winthrow. Hehe.+ Oh, for Aiko Takahachi, no real inspiration except this lady that came into work with a cute haircut, and her personality just came right after. Jace Winthrow, his inspiration is kind of Ken, from Weiss Kreuz's personality along with the look of Kira from Angel Sanctuary. (I love those shows!) Though I like Aya a tad more than Ken – look at my email – I still think he's adorable, and Kira from AS is just so darn steamy and sexy. Hehe. I'm rambling about my psychotic thing for Anime guys now, so later.

Pan slithered further and further back towards the door of the van, her fingers ripping across the keys as she hissed a jerky curse through her teeth.

The little icon turned to a phone ringing, and she put the cell to her ear as she struck a good swift kick to her kidnapper.

~*

Trunks sighed and looked at his watch. She was ten or so minutes late, and for a brief moment he thought maybe she had changed her plans, but his phone rang and the caller ID sprung to flash Pan's name and cell phone number across the screen.

With a wearisome sigh he picked it up, trying to remember his lines.

~*

"Trunks?" Her heart leapt. "Trunks—Trunks, help! There's—" There was a thud—she had kicked him again—and some rustling which he heard on the other line. "Trunks, someone's kidnapped me—"

"Panny? Panny, I can't hear you—"

"Trunks! Trunks, I'm here!"

"Pan, I can't hear you—something about a kitten you want? Go ahead and get it if you want—"

"Trunks, it's a big gray van—"

"It's a gray kitten? Yeah, I'm sure it's cute—just get it, OK?"

"No! Trunks, help—Trunks help!"

"I've got to go to a meeting, honey, make sure to bring the kitten over later—"

"Trunks!" She gasped, her legs kicking and shoving her kidnapper away—he seemed quite baffled at her strength—as she grasped the phone harder as if it would help.

"Love you, Panny—"

"Trunks—" She heard a distinct sound, one that made her blood chill, and she looked up at a pistol's barrel.

She heard him hang up the phone, and she could have let herself throw up. Against almost anything she was invincible, but she couldn't stop a gunshot from hurting her. Maybe Trunks, Goku, they couldn't be intimidated, but—she hated to admit it—she wasn't that skilled.

He smirked, confidently, and she let the phone clatter to the floor, beeping.

"So," He chuckled. "You're Pan Son aren't you? Fiancée of Trunks Brief's?" She gulped. Along with setting up this whole thing, she had made another drastic mistake.

Thing's would've been better if they thought some random guy loved her, but being loved by one of the most known, most respected, most famous—richest guys around…that was something that had made their day.

~*

Trunks sat down the phone and ran a finger through his hair. Boy, she had been realistic. He had almost been to the point of rushing to save her she sounded so desperate. But no, Panny needed to learn her lesson here.

He scanned his desk for some work to be done and jumped at the chance for once. However, no matter what work he did he kept thinking about her, this feeling in his gut something was wrong would plague him, and he'd have to shake it off.

~*

They were slowing down, pulling into somewhere, and Pan looked around, though there was nothing to be seen.

They had bound her wrists, yet left her ankles untouched, hinting she'd probably have to walk somewhere, which was reassuring. During their ride—which was surprisingly short—she had devised a plan, although a pretty simple one.

As soon as they let their gun-guard down, she'd strike—hopefully kicking the gun from them, which would pretty much set the remaining events. She wasn't useless when a gun wasn't being pointed at her.

The car came to a stop and they both got out, walking around the back to the doors—here was her chance.

~*

Trunks got a phone call after a while, but it was very different from Pan's. Donny's voice was on the other end when he asked for Trunks, which the young, lavender haired boy found interesting, if not confusing.

"Hey, Trunks. Pan there?" Trunks shook his head. This was a cheesy way to call her MIA to his attention, he thought.

"No, Donny, she isn't." He tried to sound as casual as possible. There was silence on the other end for a moment.

"Is she home?" He then asked, to which Trunks responded with a no. "Do you know where she is?" Donny sounded perplexed, and Trunks rolled his eyes; didn't this guy give up and ask something else?

"No, I don't know." He said somewhat testily, and Donny sighed on the other end. "What did you need?" He then prodded.

"Well, I just wanted to talk to Pan, but could you give her a message?" He asked, and Trunks agreed he would. "Just tell her I couldn't make it today, and I'm really sorry. I just want her to know I didn't flake, that something important came up and—"

"You couldn't make it to what?" Trunks asked.

"You know, they're little 'plan'." He chuckled. "Bura'll have my head for not being able to make it today, so you better warn her—or hint—that I'm coming over with something special tonight, OK?"

Trunks hung up.

It'd been real.

~*

The time it took for Trunks to get downstairs would have had to been checked with a stopwatch. Rolled up sleeves and a loosened tie and neck proved how much he cared about his appearance at the moment.

It was quite possible he had made speed streaks down the halls and stairs as he raced to—to wherever Pan was and needed to be rescued. He felt like such a jerk, and cussed himself out as he made his way to the lobby—though that wasn't very long, and indeed not long enough to give him the cursing he felt he deserved.

He felt ultra sick though, when someone very special—the damsel in distress herself—walked in the front door, looking disheveled, scratched a bit, with a broken heel.

"Panny!" He yanked her into his arms and held her so tight he was scared she might break, but still he couldn't loosen his hold. "Oh, Panny…" He sighed, nuzzling his face into the curve of her neck and smelling her perfume, the scent of her hair.

"You found out, didn't you?" She snuffled, and he nodded. "I…was…so stupid!" She exclaimed, tears spilling onto his blue shirt. He hadn't even thought of taking a jacket.

"It's OK…" He crooned, sinking into a nearby couch and pulling her onto his lap. Her face hadn't come off of his shoulder since their embrace. "It's OK, Panny." He smoothed her hair.

"You sure took care of yourself, though, didn't you?" He chuckled, and a smile crept across her face.

~*

Two weeks later the events of the kidnapping had passed on its glory as a topic of conversation and new things had sprung up. The plans for the wedding were pretty much set—a bayside wedding, of course—and things had taken a lazy turn.

Pan's father had asked her to do some research on a nuclear physics project he was working on, and, with nothing better to do with her afternoon, she had skipped to the city library to look some things up.

She bit her lip in an intimidated manner as she scanned down a row of musty books, and scrunched her brows in an attempt to find anything remotely connected to what she was looking for.

She hated asking people for help, especially old librarians who only looked at her and blinked as if that would help make her go away. She reluctantly trotted down the stairs and approached the librarian, only to be directed to a university library several blocks away.

~*

Trunks looked up and down the street, glancing at his watch, leaning against the wall, his arms folded. Conner Degraid, a close friend and business associate, was late. They were meeting for lunch in a small luncheon café down an old downtown district.

It was fourteen after one when Conner's Pegasus rolled down the street and pulled into a spot right in front of Trunks. A tall young man with a build about Trunks' size got out, slinging his keys and a cell phone into his pocket.

"Sorry I'm late," He explained when Trunks nodded a hello. "Something came up last minute and I had to look it over before I came." He cracked his neck to the side as they walked into the café, and a quaint little bell dinging as the door slid shut.

A girl, about nineteen or so, appeared behind the counter. She had brown hair with honey highlights, and her hair was cut in a boy-style bob that had pieces falling, bang-like on her forehead and over her eyes.

"Hi." She greeted cheerfully when they approached, and she pulled out a check tablet and a pen. "Do you know what you want?" She perked a brow curiously.

Conner's cell phone started beeping out a tune, and he picked it up.

"Yeah? Just a second—" He turned to Trunks. "A #1 with pesto mayo and a large coke." Then he turned back to his cell, walking away from the counter and taking a seat. Trunks smiled at the cashier when she told him she had caught his order.

"And I," He began, then reconsidered. "will be asking you what you thinks good." She smiled, then turned halfway to the menu.

"I personally like the arturkmozz." She chuckled. "It stands for artichoke turkey mozzarella." He shared her smile. "It's way good." He nodded. "Something to drink?" She inquired, and he glanced at the soda menu. "Dr. Pepper?" She smirked slightly.

"Hey—how'd you?"

"Lucky guess." She had a wink in her eye even though she didn't actually, and he slid his wallet out of his pocket and passed her some money. "$8.22's your change," She passed him the receipt. "thank you." He found himself merely standing there before he gave a little jump and went over to the table with Conner.

Conner turned his cell phone off as he sat down, and looked at Trunks with a wince.

"Do you hate me?" He asked delicately.

"Not yet."

"Something came up at the office, the decisions I made just before I came backfired cause I didn't really think about them."

"Go ahead." Trunks offered, expressionless. Conner hitched a brow. "No, seriously, I know what it's like. Seriously, go ahead, I'll just stay and eat."

"You hate me." Trunks chuckled.

"Of course I don't. Now go." He jerked his head towards the door and Conner got up and clapped him on the shoulder.

"See you around—and thanks." Trunks smiled, wordlessly expressing he didn't need the thanks, and Conner trotted out the door and hopped into his Pegasus.

A girl with long, wavy blonde hair approached with their food and set them down with a demure smile. Trunks bit into his grilled sandwich when the girl who had waited on him at the counter walked by, slinging her coat on and putting some money into a pocket.

"Your friend had to leave?" She asked, stopping and looking at him. Trunks nodded and she sighed. "I'm sorry—isn't too fun to eat alone is it?" She offered a sympathetic smile, and before he knew it Trunks had blurted out an invitation for her to join him.

"I can't eat both of these by myself." He lied, because of course he could, and easily to boot. She seemed to consider. "Miss?" He questioned, holding out his hand, and she approached with a smile.

"Miss Takahachi." She accepted the handshake. "And no need to offer your name; I already know it."

~*

Pan approached the massive wooden double doors of the university library and was instantly reminded of the university she had attended in London, however the difference was that the halls of London were truly old, and this building was made in an old style.

Her navy blue converse sneakers squeaked on the tile floor as she walked the length of the entrance foyer, and was amazed at the sight of a massive main hall. Shelves of books so high she had to tilt her head completely back, rows and rows so long they were intimidating. The second story was merely an indoor balcony with more shelves of books, tables, desks, and discussion rooms.

She approached the front desk and instead of seeing a hook-nosed lady in her sixties she was greeted by a college-age guy about 5'11", with black hair, and large, thin glasses resting on the bridge of his nose.

He had dirtwashed jeans and a blue and white striped shirt with the collar undone and the sleeves rolled up. His hair hit about chin length, with jagged layers, and the ends had a razor-cut look to them as he stood there, all the fingers save his thumb and pointer finger slung into his left pocket, his weight leant on his left leg.

"Can I help you?" He asked, and she blinked, forgetting what she needed, and forgetting where she was for that matter—this guy was the handsomest she'd seen in a while.

"Nuclear Physics?" She stated simply, forgetting, conveniently, the exact topic of Nuclear Physics her father was researching. He smiled, and his face lit up brilliantly with that somewhat smirking smile. His whole aura changed even though his teeth weren't model straight or white, and she caught herself smiling as he pointed to the left, tilting his head to the side as he did so.

"Go down that row, take a right at the end, go to the end of that row, take a left, and it will be on your left." He smiled again, or more to the truth smiled bigger, and she nodded appreciatively as she walked away, pulling the piece of paper her father had given her out of her back pocket on her way.

She scanned the bookshelves warily and started at the sound of her name.

"Miss Son?" She turned to see the guy from the front desk approaching her, his hand holding out something. "You dropped this when you walked away." It was her driver's license.

"Oh, thank you. Thank you very much." She took it and that amazing smile flashed briefly.

"Could I help you find something, maybe?" She cocked a brow. "I'm a Nuclear Physics major, and I might be of some help if you'd like." He explained, and she grinned.

"Wow." She said in an impressed tone. "You don't come across many of those, do you?" He twitched a smile, putting a hand in his pocket. "Yes, I'd really appreciate some help." She agreed and leant to show him the notes her father had given her.

~*

Aiko Takahachi and Trunks laughed over their sixth refill of Dr. Pepper two hours later. She cleared her throat, took a sip of her soda, and shook her head.

"I haven't laughed this hard in a long time." She mused, and he agreed. "And what have we learned?" She turned to him. "We've sat here for two hours and don't know much more than when we started." He chuckled with her.

"But I learned you play the Violin," He countered.

"And I learned there's more to Mr. Trunks Brief's than that face everyone sees on the TV screen, talking about his latest venture at a press conference." He saluted her with his cup.

"I heard there are a lot of violin and orchestra concerts around here—"

"Yeah, there are! Have you ever been?" He shook his head. "Oh, you should go, it's so amazing." She widened her caramel brown eyes for emphasis, and her slightly arched brows perked. "Oh, I've got to get going." She said, looking at her watch. "Thanks for everything!" She exclaimed, grabbing her coat and slinging it around her shoulders.

"Yeah, I had a great time! Thank for hanging around for lunch, Miss—"

"Aiko." She said firmly. "My name's Aiko." She smiled. Her hand touched the door but she turned around to look at him curiously. "Hey, there's a violin concert tonight in the garden, a special guest from out of the country—she's wonderful. If you'd like to come—"

"Sure." He said casually. "It'd be nice to have someone who plays there with me." Her eyes twinkled.

"Fifteen to eight? At the entrance?" He nodded. "See you later then!" She slipped out the door and dashed down the street.

And Trunks hadn't even realized what he'd done.

~*

Jace Winthrow and Pan Son giggled and were 'sushed' by yet another librarian. She held a hand to her mouth and he held a finger to his lips as they turned pages around and attempted to look like they were doing something useful.

"I don't think we're getting much work done." Pan whispered, shaking her head, and he closed his book and adjusted his glasses.

"You're definitely right. How about we drop it for now?" He suggested, and she agreed. "Do you want to just let me check these out for you?" She blinked, then her eyes widened.

"Oh, you don't have to—" He chuckled.

"You don't have a library card." She blushed a little and started gathering her things. "Hey, I don't think I'll have a chance for a while—I've been sitting around getting paid for nothing—" She looked apologetic, but he chuckled. "I can bring them by after my shift, if you'd like." He looked at her, gauging her response, her feeling behind her answer.

"Yeah, that'd work—I live outside the city, is that OK?" He nodded, and she retrieved the paper her father had written notes on and turned it upside down, holding out her hand to take the pen he had.

After writing down directions to her house she stood up and tilted her head to the side.

"I appreciate your help so much." She said sincerely.

"I could help you some more tonight as well, if you'd think it'd help. We were swimming pretty bad at the end, and I'm happy to help you."

"You're too nice!" She grabbed his arm briefly and gave it a squeeze. "Do you feel that bad for me?" She teased, and his expression changed to one of defense.

"Not at all! It's just…I like being around you." For Pan everything stopped for a brief moment before the world righted itself, and she merely smiled, at a loss of words.

"I'll see you later?" She smiled once more and managed a little nod. "OK, bye Pan." He turned without another word and it took Pan several moments before she began her trek home.