Ah! Another chapter! Sorry if the last was a little bit of a cliffhanger, my apologies…but this one's a real cliffhanger, and I must admit I feel a tad bit bad giving you this and then going on a trip. +sigh+ Again, my apologies. I really need to get cracking on my other stories. I feel bad, lately ALL my inspiration had been for this story, and I've been neglecting my other works. Anywho, enjoy the MAJOR plot twist. +evil laugh+
There isn't a truer fact that reviews lead to inspiration and inspiration leads to updates. (lol.)
—A quote I swapped and messed with to my own purposes. Next time I'll give you the real quote…if you're good.
Trunks leant against the lattice work taken over by climbing roses near the entrance, waiting for Aiko. Candles were lit everywhere to enhance the eclectic ambiance that wreaked all over the place and sneaked into the corners.
It was a gypsy violinist, something he didn't expect with Aiko's classical violin taste, accompanied by a spanish guitarist, and he had to admit he was a little excited, like a kid about to be unleashed at a theme park. Why was he so excited about something he'd never seen or even heard of for that matter before today?
He had nice black slacks and a dark blue shirt on with the sleeves rolled up and the first button undone, revealing—not to his purpose—the first lines of his pectorals. His feet shod in black boots, and his bomber jacket—did he ever part with it?—was slung over one arm.
A glance at his watch let him know he was early, and he shuffled his shoulders, getting more comfortable.
~*
Pan finished buttoning her palest brown shirt, and straightened her quilt block skirt bearing squares of green, red, but mostly black, that fell a little below halfway up her thigh.
She brushed a finger through her hair that was pulled back halfway and done in a pulled through braid, and adjusted her brown chandelier earrings and necklace. It was 6:52, just about when he'd arrive, and she skipped out of her room and down the steps barefooted.
Her mother was finishing the dishes when she popped in and scrounged around for some munchies for the study session, and Videl wiped her hands dry with a terry cloth towel.
"Going somewhere?" Pan shook her head, reaching back into a cabinet. "Oh?" Pan, frustrated slightly by not bieng able to reach, hoisted herself in the air to aid her cause.
"Staying in. Someone's coming over. Today at the library I met someone who's majoring in Nuclear Science—" Videl looked impressed. "—so I'm getting some study help tonight." Videl smiled and shook her head.
"Your father probably knows more than any college pip squeak, Pan." She mentioned, and Pan had to agree.
"I know, but then it's daddy, isn't it, not Jace? Besides, we had a blast today at the library." Videl stopped on a dime.
"Jace?" Pan, arms full of snacks, turned to her mom.
"Yeah, Jace Winthrow. He works at the library—"
"He?" Pan nodded. "Panny, I don't think that's a good idea—"
"Why not?" She returned incredulously.
"You're engaged Pan, and it sounds more like a study date to me than anything else—"
"You just found out about it. How do you know it sounds like a date?" Videl rubbed her forehead with her pointer and middle finger.
"You don't dress up for some random girl, especially one who majors in Nuclear Science." Her mother finished with emphasis. Pan hadn't thought about that. She had just gotten dressed, realizing someone she wanted to impress—
Pan didn't let herself finish that thought, it betrayed her point, and instead she stuck to quarreling with her mother verbally.
"Mom, come on—" But Videl merely shook her head and held up a hand.
"OK, fine, make your own decision—I won't fight you over it now." And she left, making Pan feel more frustrated than if she had fought some more.
~*
"Trunks." Aiko, looking amazing in a short blue chinese style dress, approached Trunks with a smile lined by glossy lips. She was cheery, with a matching blue, chinese take-out shaped purse, and she grabbed his arm and planted a quick peck on his cheek that sent a jolt to his gut that was clearly the realization of disloyalty.
But this was just a night where two people enjoyed a shared interest, a night where an expert and a newbie came together to further the newbie's appreciation of the expert's art, right? It wasn't a date, right? So why was he so worked up about a little peck? Bura gave him more significant kisses than that.
Their seats, AC and AD, were front row, and he heard, from backstage, if that's what you called it at an outside theater, the musicians tuning their instruments.
Aiko looked about to burst with pleasure, and the excitement that he had only increased as the musicians approached the stage minutes later. Aiko gave his arm a squeeze as the lights dimmed, and suddenly the glow around the stage was red as the violinist pranced onto the stage in a decidedly gypsy-esque black outfit.
~*
Pan, seething at the thought that her mother, though now silently, disapproved of her evening, had to stifle it quickly when the doorbell rang. Dumping her armfull of eats on the kitchen table, she gave herself a last adjusting of everything—why was she so worried about her appearance—before opening the door and admitting Jace Winthrow through the threshold.
"Hey, Jace." She greeted cheerfully, and he responded with a smile and a quick nod. "Come on in." She opened the door wider and shut it behind him. "You can go ahead upstairs, my room's the first on the left, and I'll bring up some stuff to—er—munch on." She gestured offhandedly to the stairs and he trotted up as she ducked into the kitchen.
Why was her stomach queasy? Why did she have this feeling of, of…something reminiscent of butterflies? Trunks was the only person who could make her feel this way…wasn't he?
But here Jace was, dressed in jeans and a cable sweater, wearing those glorious glasses, his delicious hair falling onto his forehead and over his eyes, bookbag slung over one shoulder, that quiet persona, that breathtaking smile—why, darn it, was she breathing so hard? Why—blast it—was her heart beating out of her chest?
Before she had another moment to think she stifled it by picking up the assorted bags, boxes, and juice cartons and dashing up the stairs.
~*
The intermission to the performance was led on by a massive attack of applause. Trunks wondered why he had never caught on to such entertainment before. Sure, he was a tough guy, and he liked his sparring more than anything else…but this was really fun, and nothing like he had expected.
"You liked?" He turned to Aiko and nodded enthusiastically. "Avena Lasis is world renowned for her performances. I'm glad you started picking up violin concerts by seeing her first. Um, would you perhaps like to get something to eat afterwards?" She asked in a tone of suggestion, and he looked at his watch.
"Um, maybe another night." He said as nice as he could. "Do you mind?" She didn't even blink at all.
"Not at all, that's fine." She said casually, not to dropping a smile in the least.
~*
"I never realized this stuff is so complicated." Pan whined, leaning back on the floor, palms to her closed eye-lids and forehead. Jace chuckled, one leg bent and an arm resting on it. His sleeves were pushed up, and his other arm braced his body weight against the floor.
"You mean, this easy. Pan, you're picking it up so fast I'm amazed you don't major in it just in your spare time!" He chuckled again, and she pushed her body off the floor so they could get started on some more.
"Enough flattery," She said. "I get enough on my own." She shot him a smirk, and he got up and stretched out his sore body.
"Bathroom?" He questioned, and she gave him directions.
She looked over some of the papers spread out between them on the floor, and suddenly a jolt of recognition hit her. She hadn't talked to Trunks all day. She wasn't one of those girls who had to have their boyfriends around every second, in fact, those type of girls made her want to ship them off to be on Survivor just for her entertainment enjoyment, but it was odd she hadn't heard from him at all today. Usually he called to do something, or talk, or jut check in…but he hadn't all day. She hoped he was OK.
It may be odd, her worrying about the Prince of Saiyan's being OK, but it was a little different that she hadn't even heard his voice at all.
She sighed.
Presidents of major corporations did get busy all the time…so why was she being such a mamsy-pamsy boyfriend needer?
~*
If the applause at the intermission was amazing, the applause at the end of the show was too much for any word to describe. There wasn't a single soul sitting when they walked off stage, and everyone wanted to remain there, as if somehow there'd be more.
It took forever merely to get to Trunks' car, and when he asked her where hers was he had to admit to being relieved she had taken the bus. She agreed to let him drive her home—too late to go home alone on a bus—and when they pulled onto a curb in the old downtown district, he looked at her questioningly.
"I live upstairs from the shop." She said when he didn't say anything, pointing to a quaint store with the word Pumpkinseeds painted on the shop window, just above an array of purses, gift items, cutesy underwear, soaps, and jewelry.
"My friend owns it." She mentioned when he opened her door and helped her out. "Thanks, Trunks, for a really great evening." She looked at him unblinkingly, and with a jolt he was reminded that no one else but Pan had looked that way at him since his birthday—er—celebration the previous year…just before Pan had left for London, taking his heart with her.
She gave him a squeeze on his arm before walking to the doorway and retrieving some keys. She had just set it in the lock before she stopped, turned around, and walked to him swiftly.
In one swift motion she grasped his arms and pressed her lips against his, and though it wasn't passionate, or steamy, a five second kiss—he had counted—was a five second kiss, not to mention when she pulled away, it was only far enough so that she could speak to him.
"Good night, Trunks." She said in a whisper, and then left swiftly through her door without another word.
He sunk into the driver's seat and shakily turned the car on, breathing in and out deeply, just noticing he hadn't taken a breath since her—well, kiss.
He was engaged, to Pan—the girl he loved more than anything in the world—and he had just been kissed, and kissed back, he admitted it, by a girl who he had only known since lunch time.
He turned onto the main boulevard and made his way home, his mind spinning and reeling, his thoughts a tangled mass of convictions and questions.
~*
Both agreeing to call it a night, Pan and Jace stood in the doorway saying their goobye's.
"Thanks so much for all your help." Pan, leaning against the doorway, smiled gratefully. "I appreciate it so much—you have no idea." He returned her smile—oh, no, not that smile!—and for several moments neither said a word.
"Goodnight, Pan." He ventured, receiving a goodnight in return, but before he left he slid his hand to her neck and kissed her. For one moment all hell broke loose in her mind before she silenced everything and returned the kiss.
He smelled woodsy, earthy, and while she felt guilty, wrong, it also felt so good to be kissing him, without any restraint on herself, to just be so near to smell him…
He broke away, slowly, and flashed her a small smirk and a nod before leaving…leaving Pan to feel like the worst person in the world.
~*
When Trunks' alarm went off at 8am he punched it so hard it splintered and broke into countless shards, some of which flew across the room and some of which launched themselves at the walls.
Trunks groaned, and, reluctantly, got out of bed. A massive headache, due to staying awake in bed till 3:45 or so, wasn't helping, and his body was feeling the need for more sleep.
He felt so sick he wanted to call in work to announce his absence due to illness, but he felt too bad and decided against it. That company couldn't run without his presence. He made his way to the bathroom and coughed once, decided it was a warning and that it officially made him sick, and rushed to his bedside phone.
"Claire? Yeah—" He inserted a cough. "I'm…cough…sick today. Yeah. Don't…cough…think I can make it in—hacking cough—Yeah. Yeah. Th…cough…anks. Bye." He added some more coughing for emphasis before turning the phone off.
He promptly collapsed into bed with a thud.
~*
Pan woke up dreadfully late—12:35—and still had to force herself out of bed. She felt sick and let out a piercing yell to her mother. Videl approached quite hastily, and Pan lied back against her pillows.
"Mom," She groaned. "I feel so sick." Videl felt for a fever and clucked her tongue and nodded.
"Coughing?" Pan nodded. "Throat?" Pan nodded. "Headache?" Pan nodded. "Cold?" Pan nodded. "Cold." Videl announced. "Stay in bed, sweetie, I'll get you some tea and soup, OK?"
Videl, true to her word, returned with a tray of soup, tea, bread, and water. Pan forced herself to halfway sit as her mother set the tray gracefully down on her lap.
"Rest." Pan nodded, beaten and too sick to argue. "Promise me you won't get out of bed while I'm in town, all right?" Pan nodded, not feeling like talking. "Anything I can get you while I'm gone?"
~*
Trunks lie awake in bed, a little electric heater pumping out heat with a rickety buzz the background to his troubled thoughts about the previous evening's events.
How could he let something like that happen? How could he betray Pan, the woman he loves so much, by letting Aiko kiss him?
He wondered what Pan must be doing now. He hadn't heard from her since the night before last. Not worrisome, but a tad bit odd, and though he knew she was OK, he wondered why she hadn't called…but he was just at fault for not calling, especially with what he had spent his evening doing last night.
He felt like the ultimate idiot, that he had never even considered, that going out with Aiko for the evening had never even made him think twice. Why? Why had he been so quick to go? So quick to forget Pan, who was spending her evening in complete trust of him…
She was so good to him.
And now, he didn't believe he deserved it.
With a sigh he picked up the phone.
~*
Pan sighed. It was about four or so, if the light outside could tell her, and she was bored out of her skull. Several magazines lie on her lap: the latest issue of Martial Arts, Martial World, and Hi-Yah!, and some others her mother had brought her with a smile…Bride, Modern Bride, Wedding Styles, Hair Comes the Bride, and Wedding Perfect.
She hadn't even begun to look at the Bridal magazines. Usually—she had to admit—she got excited about Bride magazines, got giddy when she looked through them…but today she didn't even feel like looking over wedding dresses too expensive for her budget (However, Trunks had told her there was no price limit to anything wedding-related she wanted).
She felt like crying, but couldn't place why she felt so distant and disheartened. She blinked back tears and started flipping through a martial arts magazine offhandedly.
She lied back on her pillows, thinking about how stupid she had been, how stupid she was, and how she didn't deserve a guy who was so good to her, so trusting, so ultimately in love with her.
Her mother's words last night, after Jace left, rang in her ears like a bell too close for comfort:
"Pan," She had said. "You aren't being fair to Trunks." She had brushed a pair of fingers over her daughter's brow. "And if you don't love him as much as you should, you should consider that marrying him wouldn't be fair to him either. He deserves to be loved just as much by his wife as he loves his wife. He deserves to be loved by you, just as much as he loves you…though," She had smiled. "I find it hard that anyone could love another as much as he loves you."
Could she marry such a man now? Did she deserve to? If she had been so attracted to Jace…did this mean maybe Trunks wasn't the one?
How could you be so attracted to someone and marry someone else? How—didn't the one mean that you never looked twice at another guy? Didn't that mean that he would make you so utterly happy, your world so fairy-tale perfect…. Was Trunks not the one?
Trunks loved her so dearly, her mother was right; he deserved so much more than he was getting in return from her.
…Could she marry him now?