Rainwater
Chapter 6: Fumble Wonders
Rating: R for sexual situations and suggestions, adult topics and language.
WitchyPrincess

Fumble Wonders

The more you run from things the closer you seem to get to them. I know that sounds like a paradox, but think about it. The less you try to remember something, the more times it flits through your brain.

This I know from experience.

I spent four years trying to forget he existed. Trying to forget that I loved him and needed him. Trying to block out the fact that I cared for him. If I had only thought to fall in love using my mind, instead of my heart, I wouldn't be in this predicament. You see, you can change your mind, but never your heart.

It took me four years worth of denying that one statement, four years of convincing myself that it wasn't true, and it only took him one night to change my mind. How did I drift from hate to...something else, in one night? Is there really that thin of a line between them? How could I be thinking about him, knowing I would be seeing him again, and not be even the slightest bit disgusted by the thought? Especially when a few days ago I would have hurled to think that I'd have to see this man every day.

I can't love him still. I can't possibly want him still.

I don't need him, and it will be all right. Right?

–Pan Son
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Pan sighed, running her hands over her face in an exasperated manner as she picked up another piece of paper. This wasn't right. There was no way on this good green earth that this was fair. She huffed angrily to herself, letting her eyes skim the words as she resisted the urge to throw everything off this desk she was sitting at and fly out the window.

Who the hell did Trunks-San think he was? Dende? He couldn't just leave her with all this paper work while he took an extended lunch break with Cindy, the girl that had shown up at twelve thirty wearing an extremely short blue skirt with a tight blue blazer to match with her white blouse. The girl that he claimed was a business associate who was going to give him the latest report on how the new Capsule designs were doing with the mainstream consumers. Yeah, right.

Pan wasn't stupid, she knew what kind of 'business' date he was on with this girl. And, in the meantime, he had left her to handle all of his company dirty work alone. They had been working on these dumb ass quarterly analyses for three days now and she didn't think she could take another minute of it.

On the bright side, Trunks-San wasn't by her side. Breathing down her neck while she worked, checking to see if she did everything throughly enough in between him doing his normal work and these quarterlies as well. Making shivers run down her spine every time he stepped too closely or breathed in such a way that the air traveled out of his mouth, down her spine, and rested somewhere inside her soul making her heart skip beats. Why was he so damn sexy?

And why wasn't she immune to it? She had enough reason to be. She knew he wasn't good for her. She knew that she couldn't put herself out there and risk falling apart like she had when she was younger. She knew she couldn't get lost in him. And, most importantly, she knew he didn't want her. Yet...None of those thoughts stopped her from wanting to throw everything off this desk and pull him down on it when he was in the room with her.

Ugh, she had enough on her brain without dealing with this...attraction she felt towards that jerk of boy. Like her father, for one. He still hadn't called to talk to her and she hadn't said a word to him. It had been half of a week since their fallout fight and still there was no apology. If he was waiting for her to come around and say she took back everything she said, he was out of luck. She wasn't going to.

But she wouldn't mind if he would just come around to talk with her. To show that he wasn't upset with her. She'd meant what she said, she didn't want him butting into her life problems, but that didn't mean she wanted him out of her life completely. She still wanted him to be there and just be a father. She still wanted to know that they could talk if she needed him.

If this was his way of proving a point, she could hold out just as long as he could. If he thought she as going to come crawling back to him, begging that he take control of her life again because she couldn't manage it, he was wrong. They might never hold a decent conversation if that was the case. And never wasn't an exaggeration, both Pan and Gohan could be very stubborn when they wanted to be.

The sound of the door to Trunks-San's office opening drew those thoughts out of her head. She looked up from the paper, just now realizing that she hadn't really been reading at all, an annoyed crease to her face as she watched to see who it was. She noticed his lavender hair first and quickly averted her eyes so that they were back on the paper, trying to hide the anger clouding her vision.

She shouldn't feel anything towards him, she reminded herself. Not lust, not spite, not hate, or anger and certainly not love. She definitely didn't love him, she thought firmly, finally taking in what the paper she was supposed to be reading was talking about. She picked up the red pen and started to make her notes on margins of the paper, not even flinching as she felt Trunks' body heat so near her.

#######

He looked down at her, telling himself he was getting a closer look at the paper she was reviewing as he tried not to breathe in the intoxicating scent of her hair. What exactly was that smell anyway? He wondered, losing his train of thought completely. It was somewhat of a minty smell, he thought, breathing in a little deeper, leaning a little closer. It reminded him of Winter's crisp clean air, giving him a warm feeling that made him think of when he was a child and he used to exhale into the air just to watch the vapor.

It was as he had that thought that she leaned further over the paper, drawing in a deep breath and exhaling it loudly. He realized that he must have been making her uncomfortable and so he moved around his desk to take a seat on the chair to the side of it.

"How's the work coming?" He asked pleasantly, ignoring his head and the thoughts that were swirling around in it.

"Just fine." She answered with detached interest in her voice, slightly annoyed he noticed. He tried not to smirk. "How was lunch?" Her lips curled as she said lunch, looking up at him with evident distress.

Now he was sure she was angry. But what was new, really? She was usually angry at him and, he had to say, he didn't mind much. Honestly, he liked her better when she was angry, the only other Pan he remembered was the one that used to fling herself into his arms. And, well, anger was definitely the better of the two.

Of course, as he thought this his eyes traveled curiously from her face to trace the outline of her curves, he might not mind the other Pan now. As he realized what he'd just done, he cursed inwardly. For three days he'd been doing this, catching himself as he checked her out. But this was Pan, for Dende's sake. There was no need, no reason, no excuse for finding her even remotely attractive. And yet he did. More so than just remotely.

It wasn't his fault really. She was twenty-five and, being completely honest, that age looked good on her. Everything that used to look awkward on her body, or on her face, now looked as though a goddess had molded it until it was the perfect shape. Everything looked perfectly proportional and perfectly placed. And he couldn't quite get the image of her all dressed up for that party out of his head.

Without a doubt, the girl was completely gorgeous and she had been sitting in his office every day since he made her sign that stupid contract. So, of course he would think manly things while she was there, he was a man after all. And she, he admitted with some dismay, was definitely a woman.

"It was great." He gave her a refreshed smile, stretching out on the couch and closing his eyes as though he didn't have a care in the world. He knew it would anger her, that might have been why he did it. After a second of uninterrupted rest he felt something heavy and metal bang against his head with supernatural force. He clenched his jaw, trying not to react, and slowly opened his eyes.

"Can I help you?" He questioned sweetly.

"Yes, since you offered." She told him curtly, throwing a manilla folder his way so quickly that the papers didn't even fly out. "At least pretend like you worked to get this company."

"I did work." He responded crossly, anger dancing in his eyes for the briefest of moments. Then he remembered that she took pleasure in knowing she had angered him so he wiped it away, smiling at her again.

"And why the hell are you so damn cheery?" She challenged, her eyes narrowing to slits. "I would appreciate it if you would at least pretend that my presence annoys you just as much as yours does me. If I have to be miserable."

"Oh, my smile has nothing to do with you not annoying me, don't get your hopes up." Trunks assured her smartly. "I'd hate to break your fragile heart." He mocked, pure amusement in his eyes. She glowered at him, shifting uncomfortably in the chair she was in. He noticed but chose not to comment, silently wondering if he'd touched an old nerve or if she just really wanted to kill him. He decided it was the latter, realizing that she usually wanted to kill him.

"You don't look like you're reading." She warned him, getting back to the paper she was working on.

"I've got almost two months left to go over all these anyway, why should I overtax myself? Especially when you're here?" He winked at her, setting the folder on the floor.

"Trunks-San, I want you to pick that damn folder up and at least pretend like you're doing something constructive before I get up from this desk and kick your ass all the way to Dende's lookout and back." She warned, straightening in the chair and tilting her head threateningly to get the point across.

"Well, baby, just keep spreading that sunshine and I'll be begging you never to leave my office." She didn't respond, only rolled her gorgeous chocolate eyes at him and went back to work.

He did lean down and pick up the folder filled with papers, taking one out to pretend, but he didn't actually start to work. It couldn't have been more than two minutes before his eyes traveled away from the paper and landed on her softly rounded face, studying her closely while she was distracted.

Her cheeks were less pudgy now, he noticed, and more defined. So was her chin. Her eyes were a vibrantly dark brown that made him tingle for some reason, and her nose was perfectly center, perfectly proportioned. It was driving him crazy how badly he wanted to get her attention again and make her glower at him. Also, the fact that her pink lips were so round and inviting was a continuing distraction as well. He'd had dreams about those damn lips last night.

"Please tell me why the hell you're staring at me." She demanded more than asked, her eyes shooting up as she challenged him.

He tried, in all sincerity he tried with all he had, to fight off the blush that rose from the bottom of his face all the way to the top of his ears, to no avail. She didn't say anything, only sighed and put the paper down, shaking her head.

"If you're not going to work," She began, fighting a smile as she spoke. "Then neither am I." She made it sound like a threat, and he was sure she meant it to be, but he was too concerned with the smile that had found her lips. It was so completely delicious he didn't know if he could catch his breath.

He shrugged after she said it, smiling as well. "I could really care less, Pan." His eyes glinted dangerously as he said it, his head falling back onto the couch and his eyes closing once again. He couldn't stare at her all day, that wouldn't be a good thing. Besides, she was sure to kill him first.

Pan fought off the indignant noise that wanted to travel from her throat to his ears as he closed his eyes. She couldn't believe that he was doing this to her. He knew that if he didn't work it wouldn't really matter, but if she didn't she'd just have more to do and less time to do it in. She was only supposed to be helping him with these stupid quarterlies, not doing them for him. She wanted to scream.

And what was with him anyway? Coming in here and breathing all down her neck, making butterflies that she'd killed four years ago stir as he stood there...so close. Then that sarcastic comment about her 'fragile heart' as if she couldn't possibly feel anything remotely close to heartbreak when she felt it every day. Especially when he was so close to her, when she had to see him and be around him. How dare he?

Not to mention the staring that had resulted in one of those blushes that suggested he was being less than holy in his thoughts. Only Trunks would still be blushing, despite the fact that he was pushing forty, at the mere mention of something involving the opposite sex. She wondered if he blushed when he was with other women...intimately. The thought made laughter spill from her throat, the image too much for her to ignore.

She could just picture him trying to take off someone's bra. She wondered if he'd ever done it smoothly in his life. One of his eyes slowly eased open to look at her, wondering, she was sure, what was so funny. An evil glint lit her eyes as she bit her bottom lip, trying to stop the laughter from continuing. But his puzzled, slightly interested, slightly amused, expression wouldn't leave room for her to calm down.

"Trunks," She started, not able to stop herself from asking. "Have you ever found yourself unable to..." She broke into another fit of giggles, her face turning red as she thought of what she'd almost asked him, another round of laughter beginning. He sat up, smiling but confused, his face crinkled.

"Unable to..?" He questioned, eyes never easing away from her. She smirked as she caught her breath and controlled her laughter.

"Unable to..." She was about to lose it again, but she fought hard to maintain her composure. "Well, I was just thinking about how often you blush and I was just wondering...I was wondering if sometimes it's difficult for you to...well, you know...Convince a girl to sleep with you. Or...um...actually go through with it." She wet her lips, trying hard not to laugh again, watching for the red that she knew would creep right up his neck and across his face. It did within seconds.

"Pan," he started, eyes wide. "That's none of your business." He finally managed, after he controlled the flustered look on his face and in his voice.

"Yeah, I know, I mean...I was just wondering if you get flustered all the time. That's all." She was still smiling, not even the least embarrassed that she'd asked him such a personal question. Or that she'd just admitted to thinking about him and sex. At least she hadn't told him that in her mind it had been her bra he was fumbling on.

"Or is it just the talking that gets you, you know? Seriously, you don't turn redder than cherries during four-play, do you? I bet you fumble, don't you?" She snickered as she finished asking. He frowned.

"First, what would you know about four-play," he started, anger swelling into his voice as he looked at her. But, as she tilted her head to watch him, she could see just a slight hint of a crease in his lips. They were slightly turned upward and she knew he was amused.

"Secondly, it really is none of your business what I do during four-play," She gave him credit for managing to say four-play without turning scarlet. "And thirdly, where did that thought come from?"

"I know plenty about four-play, we've already established that it's really none of my business, and I have no idea." She smiled lightly at him, placing one of the papers she'd already reviewed in the green folder that signified it was finished.

"Why didn't you let me read over that first?" He questioned, momentarily forgetting their conversation. "And, if you're going to be thinking about me having sex, at least have a legitimate reason next time or don't bring it up in normal conversation."

"No conversation with you is normal." She shrugged that off, rolling her eyes. "And if you're going to read over every single review before I put it in this folder then you don't really need me. You can just do it all yourself Mr. President."

He didn't think now was the time to tell her he found the fact that she'd just called him 'Mr. President' highly attractive. Instead he said, "You know, when you were asking me that insane question you called me Trunks."

"So?" She sounded slightly defensive.

"So nothing. I've just noticed that, when you're most comfortable with me, you forget the San."

"Do I?" She was picking out another paper.

"You do. And I thought you weren't going to work if I didn't."

"You're so lazy, Mr. President, that I don't know how you still have a job." There it goes again, he thought absently.

"My dad was sleeping with the boss before I got this gig." He mused, getting more comfortable on the couch.

"Whom, I bet, just happens to be your mother. Yeah right." She played along. "Some people just get everything the easy way." She was shaking her head absently as she made a couple of marks on the paper.

"This I get from Hercule Satan's grand daughter. The man who's credited for saving the world. Oh, and you just happen to be the daughter of the guy who actually saved it. Imagine."

"Oh shove it." She threw the paper into the green envelope, rolling her eyes.

"You didn't let me see that one either."

"Why don't you pull up a chair and breathe down my neck the entire time I do each paper, by myself."

He also didn't think it was the time to tell her how many other things he'd like to do to her neck. Or that he thought the fact that she got so upset, so easily, over the littlest things was a slight turn on for him. No, it definitely wasn't the time. It was vastly inappropriate. But then, so was the fact that she thought he fumbled around during four-play. He'd like to show her exactly how talented he actually was.

"Or, you could just come over here and sit on the floor under me so I won't have to move." He didn't like where his mind went when he suggested that Pan do anything 'under him' on the floor. That thought was more than inappropriate. It was against everything in him to be behaving this way inside his head. He wasn't seventeen, for Dende's sake.

She sighed loudly, once again rolling her eyes. "Fine, you big control freak. If you have to see everything I do or you'll whine about it. But don't really breathe on me, makes me sick." With butterflies, she silently amended, making her way over to the floor in front of his chair. He smirked at how easily she had been manipulated into that.

"Give me that folder you're not working on." She commanded, holding her hand out. He handed it to her, laying down near her head so that he could peer over her shoulder as she began to read. "You know how much this job sucks?" She asked after a second of silence. This time he sighed.

"Aren't we supposed to be working, not complaining, Ms. Son?" He teased, moving his hand to let his fingers capture a lock of her hair in between them. He ran the pads of his thumb and pointer finger across the wavy strands, not paying much attention to what he was doing.

"Yeah well, it's not my fault this job blows."

Another sexual reference, he thought, and he was bound to ravish her. He closed his eyes for a second to fight the urge, but as he did so his senses seem to loom in on the feel of her silky-smooth hair between his fingers. He wondered if the rest of her was just as soft. Her head leaning back into the caress was as good as permission to find out as his hand moved from her hair to the piece of her neck exposed due to the fact that he'd had to move her hair in order to play with it.

He lightly glazed his finger over the skin, scooting out further on the chair so that he was closer to her, running his fingers smoothly down her neck and not missing the fact that she had closed her eyes when he did it. So, he wasn't the only one that thought it was completely wrong that he hadn't been touching her all along. That was a good thing to know.

He pushed the rest of her hair back, closing his own eyes as he tried to pretend that he didn't want to do more than graze her skin. But he did. He really, really did. She was as soft as her hair, maybe slightly softer, and everywhere his skin landed on hers was like fire. Her flesh was so hot it was amazing. If nothing else about her could have turned him on, that certainly would have.

Her breathing increased as his fingers slid down her throat, landing on her pulse. It was much faster than normal but he was sure his was as well, so he didn't bother to smirk.

"Trunks," She spoke, the name coming out like a question though her voice was slightly airy, slightly heavy. "What are you..." She didn't finish the question because he'd placed a feather light kiss on the side of her face, slightly lower than her chin. Instead she sat up further, moving her body so that he wouldn't have to lean so far down to reach her. The papers dropped, forgotten.

He kissed her again, slightly lower but just as softly. She got up on her knees, closing her eyes as he continued, kissing her again. A softly spilled gasp escaped her throat as his head went down again, he'd hit a very sensitive area, but she liked that. He moved his head back as she slightly pulled her body up, getting onto the couch with him.

Trunks sat up, not bothering to analyze what he was doing as he pulled Pan's body close to his, tilting her neck to continue his exploration. "Was it here that made you gasp?" He whispered, his own voice throaty but silky smooth as he lowered his lips again. She answered him with a small moan, her lids instantly getting heavy again.

"Don't," She gasped out, trying to form her sentence completely. "Don't. That... Don't do that." She quickly changed her sentence as his lips pressed harder on her skin, making lava flow through her stomach as she moved into him. His mouth opened over her, his cool tongue sweeping onto her hot skin, as she amended her sentence. "Hmm, do that." She consented, melting into his arms.

He moved his head up to repeat the treatment on her chin, then the back of her neck. "Do this?" He whispered as he moved towards her ear. He nibbled the lobe as he asked the question, feeling her shiver in his arms. He liked that. And he liked the fact that she tasted so good. Like warm candy, hot chocolate perhaps. "Hmm?" He stopped, keeping his face close to her ear. "I didn't hear your answer."

She frowned at him as she nodded her head, moving her hands to push his face back onto hers. "Yes, yes," She mumbled, half dazed, her voice cracking. "Do that, don't stop."

Satisfied, he allowed her to move his head back towards her ear, smirking to himself as he kissed under it lightly, pulling her closer to him still. When he felt her body press close to his, her turning herself so that she faced him, he got more interested in kissing places that kissed back. His lips met hers before she could protest, leading her into a fiery kiss fueled by passion and driven by frenzy.

Her mouth didn't open against his at first, it took some coaxing on his behalf. Lucky for him he was very talented in the area and didn't let her slight resistance sway him. He nibbled gently on her bottom lip and, when she still didn't open her mouth, he drew that lip into his own mouth and sucked very lightly.

Her eyes drifted to the top of her head as she fought, unsuccessfully, against the moan that wanted to escape her throat. When the moan won, so did Trunks, his tongue sweeping into her daringly, drinking her as if he were dying of thirst. She responded accordingly, she had known that she would and that was why she didn't want to let him in. Her hands slid into his hair as she pulled him down, guiding his body to follow hers.

Neither of them noticed that the office door had been left open. Neither one of them looked up to see the blue haired woman standing in that same doorway staring at them, eyes wide open, brain ticking strategically, calculatingly deciding something. But both of them caught on when she cleared her throat and stated very pointedly,

"I hate to interrupt but, Trunks, baby, you've got a meeting to attend in three minutes. Wouldn't be enough time to finish this...I hope." She winked at Pan as the girl pulled her head away from Trunks' quickly, her entire face washed over with red. Trunks, however, looked strikingly calm. It must have shocked Pan because she eyed him strangely before she buried her face in her hands.

"Mother, don't you knock anymore?" He questioned, voice still husky as he moved off of, and away from, Pan. "The warning would have been nice, you know."

"Door was open," Bulma responded, not missing a beat. "So next time I suggest you use the lock, that is what it's for - keeping people out. And, should there be a next time I mean, make sure you've actually got enough time to do it." She rolled her eyes at her son, turning around and walking out as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

"Your mother catch you like that a lot?" Pan questioned curiously, noticing Bulma's calm demeanor, her face still hidden beneath her hands from shock and embarrassment, eyes peeping through the holes her fingers as she asked.

"Not lately," Trunks smirked. "And, anyway, you're the one that wanted to know if I fumbled during four-play. Satisfied now?" He straightened his tie and jacket before shooting her one of his very charming smiles, winking, and walking out of the office door. He shut it firmly behind him, letting his head beat quietly against it as he cursed himself silently.

What the hell had he been thinking?

On the other side of the door, Pan still sat on the couch. She pulled her hands away from her face and swore out loud, throwing her body back onto the couch. What the hell had she been thinking?

To be continued...