Chapter Twenty-Three

Sasoli dropped from the sky and landed gracefully in front of her parents cave.

"You're back, finally."

She turned to find her father sitting in front of the entrance, pouting.

"Dad?"

He lifted his head slowly and she gasped at the amount of abuse his face displayed.

"What happened?" She dropped to her knees in front of him, unsure of what to do to help.

"I was mauled by a mother bear," he remarked dryly.

"What?"

Sasoli's eyes shot up to find her mother standing directly behind her father.

Immediately, an innocent grin spread across 17's face as he turned to face his wife. "I was just saying to Sasoli: 'Sasoli, your mother would love me, even if I was a mauled by a bear.'"

17 frowned when his wife just stared at him. "You would still love me if I was mauled by a bear? Right?"

Ava arched a brow before turning her gaze to her daughter. "Your power level swelled above your normal fluctuations. Explain."

"Friendly competition with Bra," Sasoli answered shortly.

"Hn," Ava disappeared into the cave.

17 sighed and then turned back to her.

"Those had better be some good secrets."

Sasoli gave him a weak smile, "How does conspiracies, double agents, and backstabbing sound?"

17 narrowed his light blue eyes at her considering.

"It almost sounds worth it."

Goten floated to the ground and was about to enter his house when a voice stopped him.

"So, how did the tournament go?"

Goten spun on his heel, "Grandpa! How did you know?"

Bardock chuckled good-naturedly. "It's not hard to figure out, boy. So who won?"

"I did," Goten grinned but ducked his head embarrassed at the approving look.

"You've surpassed the royal family in power," Bardock hooked his thumbs into his pockets, a new habit he had picked up by hanging around his grandsons. "Impressive."

"Trunks hasn't been training," Goten shrugged off the praise.

Bardock's eyebrows disappeared into his bangs. "What does Prince Vegeta say about this?"

"We're not planning on Prince Vegeta finding out," Goten laughed nervously.

"Hmm, that may be the wise thing to do," Bardock contemplated aloud.

"It is, believe me," Goten opened the door and they both entered the house. "Especially, since it was really Maron who did him in."

"The little blond?" Was the surprised exclamation.

Whatever Goten had been about to say died on his lips at the sight of his mother lying on the kitchen panting and his father was eating a mountain of food at a cut throat pace.

"Mom!"

Bra and Trunks walked into a very different scene.

Their mother must have jumped on their father's back at some point and she was clinging desperately to him while their dad looked very stressed out. At the sight of them, Bulma whimpered her relief and fell into a dead sleep.

"What's been going on?" Came the demand for information.

"We were having a tournament, daddy." Bra stepped forward to take all the attention away from Trunks.

"Is that so? Who won?"

"Trunks did," Bra lifted her chin, "as usual."

"Hn," Vegeta went to leave when Trunks spoke for the first time.

"What's wrong with mom?"

"I don't know, she may be pregnant but I'm not sure."

Trunks and Bra blinked as he walked away with their mom still on his back.

Bra breezed into work the next morning, her step confident and her aura happy. The tournament had worked out perfectly. She had caught her brother admiring his bruises in the bathroom mirror at least three times already. The verdict was in, he was smitten.

"Bra!"

The blue haired scientist acknowledged the petite blond with a radiant smile.

"Maron, how was the rest of your weekend?"

"Fine," she shrugged, clutching a vanilla folder to her chest, "Have you seen Trunks?"

"I beat him out the door this morning, why?"

"Zarah wanted me to sweet talk him into his new secret plan and-"

"You don't need to make up excuses to see me," a male voice announced as he spun Maron around and into his arms.

The secretary performed a rather impressive feat of attacking instantly and keeping a firm hold on her folder.

Trunks, however was prepared for such a reaction, caught the punch and twisted the hand behind her back. He used his other hand to grasp the back of her neck firmly and guide her face to his so he could continue his assault with his lips.

His mouth attacked hers as he bent her over backwards with the force of his ardor. A single gasp from her allowed him to give her the most thorough kiss ever recorded in history.

Bra just stood there, unable to compute the scene in front of her. Her brother was passionately kissing a good friend of hers without reason. Or without obvious reason . . .

Maron's surprised squeaks broke through her paralyzing haze and she moved forward to grab a handful of her brother's hair. She yanked his head back with a forceful jerk only to have him give her a goofy smile.

"Hey, Bra, what's going on?"

"Well, to begin with, red is so not your color," she remarked as she observed his lipstick smeared mouth.

"Will you let go of me now?" Maron's voice was coldly sarcastic.

"Oh," Trunks righted her, "Of course."

Maron took a moment to compose herself, straighten her clothes, and then slap him full across the face. "Who the hell do you think you are? Grabbing me like that?"

A dark look had settled on his face by the time his eyes had locked onto hers.

"Maron," he gingerly explored his cheek with a finger. "You know who I am and, as for the other, you weren't complaining last weekend."

Maron's mouth dropped open, "I . . . that was different. . ."

Suddenly, there was no space between them and no air to breathe, thee noses almost touching.

"You should see the marks you left on my skin," a wicked smirk, "They're impressive."

Satisfied with her stunned expression, he turned on his heel but couldn't help throwing over his shoulder, "Remember our deal , Maron, I want you in my office in an hour."

The two women, and random secretaries, could do nothing but watch him swagger away.

"I don't know why we even let him out of the house." Bra shook her head disapprovingly before turning a discerning eye to Maron, "What exactly happened last weekend?"

"Nothing," she snapped, "The tournament was the only time I saw Trunks."

A wry smile settled on Bra's lips as she crossed her arms. "You must have really impressed him."

"One would never know from the way he acts," Maron huffed, she didn't even want to contemplate the state of her lipstick.

"You can't take that at face value, Maron, it's a mask." Bra tapped her temple, "One he got from being around Daddy, to hide more vulnerable emotions."

Bra's smile turned into a frown as she took in their surroundings. A dark energy was being directed at them, it was a puny energy but a threat was a threat. One did not need to be stronger to win, just more cunning. The source of energy revealed itself as twenty angry secretaries glared at them from all sides.

"Maybe we should continue this conversation in my lab," she returned the glare with one her father would be proud of, knowing they would not dare approach Maron in her presence.

"No, I should go back to Zarah's office if I have to go to Trunks' office in an hour," Maron glanced at her watch.

"I'll walk you."

"No need," Maron smiled and took a step to leave when Bra nearly pulled her off her feet.

"I insist," Bra held her arm firmly and they started to walk. The scientist watched with satisfaction as the women parted to let them through without a word. She also noted Maron's sudden awareness and complete acceptance of touch. But a muttered comment made her instincts scream to eliminate all threats.

"You can't be with her all day."

Sasoli slapped the handle of her whip into her hand as she stomped down the hallway in search of Goten. He had taken one look at her dominatrix outfit and had ran for hills.

She pouted, he didn't even get a chance to look at his outfit, which consisted of a dog collar and a thong.

A flash of blue caught her attention, "Bra!"

Bra brightened instantly at the sight of her cousin but dimmed when she noticed the outfit. "Where's Goten? Is he wearing . . ."

"No," Sasoli flicked out her whip and it let out a satisfying snap, "He ran. I had hoped you would know his location."

Bra shook her head in the negative and then at the her cousin's lack of clothes.

"I have a mission for you."

The light in Sasoli's eyes dimmed, "Mission?"

"Protect Maron," Bra couldn't help but notice the light come back into Sasoli's eyes.

"She's in danger?" Concern and relief in her voice.

"My idiot brother decided to kiss her in front of company women," Bra informed her, though puzzled with the emotions in Sasoli's eyes.

Sasoli winced, she recalled her experiences pretending to be Trunks' girlfriend. "Not the smartest thing to do."

"No," Bra placed a hand on her shoulder, "Why were you worried when I said I had a mission?"

Sasoli's head went down, moved by the meaning of the gesture but embarrassed by her emotions. "I didn't want to leave."

"What do you mean?" Bra ended the contact, the gesture complete.

"This is the first time I've ever worked in this building with you guys," Sasoli's smile was fleeting at best. "It's been fun. Usually, when I'm working, it's just me."

"You're all by yourself, all the time," Bra was surprised by the insight, "I never realized . . . your job always seemed so much fun."

"Not always," Sasoli shrugged, "I'd better change."

Bra hummed a note of agreement.

"Oh, Bra?"

"Yes?"

"If you see Goten, tell him to put on his ninja suit. Our training regiment has changed."

"Sure," Bra nodded and continued her way.

The door to Trunks' office opened promptly an hour later.

"Trunks Briefs," Maron slammed the door behind her. "Just because I agreed to PRETEND to be your girlfriend does not give you the right to grope me in the hallway."

Trunks glanced up at her calmly, "Maron, you know full well I didn't grope you. If you think I did, then I might have to show you what it is to be groped by me."

"Egotistical bastard."

"Wrong, my parents are married in saiyan fashion but thank you for your concern." Trunks smiled at her charmingly.

Maron narrowed her eyes at him. "I see, we are going to need to lay down some ground rules."

"Rules?" Lavender eyebrows shot up.

"Yes," Maron sat down and primly crossed her legs. "First, what happened this morning will not be repeated."

"I'm not allowed to kiss you?" Trunks was incredulous, "I would kiss you if were my girlfriend."

"But I'm not," Maron lifted her chin. "So all kisses will be limited to pecks on the cheek."

"But what about spontaneity," Trunks pointed out, "Why do you get to make all the rules?"

"Because I am the one doing you a favor."

"True," he conceded, "Go on."

"Goten," Bra put her hands on her hips. She was deeply and terribly amused to find him hiding under her desk. "What are you doing?"

"Shh! Not so loud!" Goten yanked her under the desk. "Sasoli might hear you."

"But Goten, she's upstairs-"

"You saw her?!"

"I-"

"Shh!" He clamped his hands over mouth and listened carefully to the sounds around them.

So they just sat there for ten minutes in complete silence, waiting for some unknown signal to let them know it was safe.

"I think we're safe," Goten exhaled with relief as he let go of Bra's face.

Bra just studied him as he moved over to give her more space. He was such a little kid, hiding under a desk like this . . . And yet . . .

"What happened to your hair? It's spiky again."

"Oh," a self-conscious hand went to his hair, "I guess it only lasts a day or until you sleep on it."

"Hmm," Bra's eyes sparkled mischievously, "I like your hair this way too, makes you look cute."

He went red and she chuckled warmly at him.

"Bra," he was exasperated, "Don't laugh at me."

She sobered and closed the distance between them.

"Bra?"

"I got my own apartment today," she batted her eyelashes at him. "Do you know what that means?"

"No," Goten shook his head.

"It means," she smirked, "I am going to ask you to go out with me, Goten, and if you say no, I'll kill you."

Goten swallowed hard, "And if I agree?"

"Then you'll live," she rubbed noses with him.

"Then I guess I better agree."

"That would be a wise decision," she nodded solemnly and then they shared their third kiss. Only this time it was love that fueled it and there was no one around to interrupt them.

"Give me one good reason why I can't grope you," Trunks demanded, "I am not going to stay on first base forever."

Maron was steamed, every rule or suggestion she put out had been shot down by Trunks. He had shaken his head, made small remarks, and outright side 'No.'

"How about, for starters, it's inappropriate in the workplace."

He opened his mouth to refute her point and then shut it with a small, "Damn."

Trunks left his desk and started to pace.

"Trunks," Maron remained in her seat, "You seem to keep forgetting that I am going to just pretend to be your girlfriend."

He stopped at the window. "You're right, I keep forgetting."

Maron nodded, happy to get another point across.

"This isn't going to work," he turned to face her. "Unless, you really do become my girlfriend."

"What?" Caught off guard, she stood and schooled her expressions. "What do you mean?"

They both to a moment to examine the other and both had noticed, masks had fallen in place.

"I mean, judging from your reaction this morning, this farce would work better if it were not a farce."

"Are you suggesting that we go out?" She arched a blond brow.

"I am suggesting a lot more than that," Trunks studied her from beneath lowered brows.

"Is that so?" She remarked dryly, though her heart was pounding. "You're going to have to do more then suggest, you're going to have to ask."

His eyes narrowed thoughtfully, "You've dominated every relationship you've ever been in, haven't you?"

"And women just fell into arms when you signaled interest, haven't they?"

"Hn," he gave a noncommittal answer. "All right then, Ms. Maron, I was wondering if you would like to have dinner with me?"

"What time, where, and when?"

"Eight o'clock, my parents house, today."

Maron nodded her acceptance and took a folder out of her bag to lay it on Trunks' desk. "Zarah wants you to check out the schematics of your room."

"He finished it?" Trunks snatched the it from the desk.

"Yes, apparently he had a lot of free time to work on it." Amusement touched her voice.

"Ah, yes, Pan." Trunks smirked at the thought of his cousin sleeping in the cave portion of the house.

Maron shared the smirk with him before turning to leave.

"Maron."

"Yes?" She half-turned back to face him.

"When can I kiss you like I did this morning?"

"After our fifth date," she answered primly.

He chuckled darkly, "I think you're going to find that I don't always play by other peoples rules."

"You'll play by mine, Trunks Briefs," was her cold reply.

"Is that a challenge," his grin only widened when the door shut in answer. "You don't realize what you've gotten yourself into . . .and it only works to my advantage."

He picked the phone and dialed home.

"Capsule Corp. headquarters? How may I help you?"

"Trying to confuse relatives again, Mom?"

"Trunks! Why are you calling at this time of day? Something happen?"

"No, nothing like that. I was just calling to let you know I invited someone to dinner."

"A girl?"

He rolled his eyes at the repressed excitement in her voice, "If you consider Maron a girl."

"All right, Trunks, I'll let your father know."

"Bye, Mom."

"Bye sweetie."

He whistled to himself as he went back to work.

Maron noticed a very curious thing on her way back to the office. A black blur seemed to be following her every move down the hallway. Sometimes it blur passed her and there was a strange clicking sound and then the blur returned to her side.

"Sasoli, why are following me?"

To a normal eye, Sasoli looked as though she had stepped out of thin air, but Maron was far from normal.

"For protection."

Maron's sure step faltered slightly but she kept going steady. "I can protect myself you know."

"Yes," Sasoli easily kept pace with her cousin, "But you don't realize the lengths they will go."

"Trunks put you up to this, didn't he," was Maron's conculsion.

"No, he didn't. He should have but Bra was one who alerted me." Sasoli glanced at her from the corner of her eye, "Peace, Maron, it's not that we think you are weak. They have gotten the best of Trunks and Zarah many times."

Some of the stiffness left her shoulders and, without anger to blind her, she noticed something odd.

"Where's Goten?"

Annoyance tightened Sasoli's mouth, "That's what I'd like to know."

End of Chapter Twenty-Three