Rainwater
Chapter 12: Appearances I
Rating: R for sexual situations and suggestions, adult topics and language.
WitchyPrincess

Keeping up Appearances

You stare because you don't see a girl, you see a body. You see my golden hair, my sky-blue eyes, my perfect smile; but you never see my heart.

And I guess it's my fault I never offer it to you. My fault I never show you more than what you see, because I like the admiration in your eyes when you believe I'm perfect. I need you to believe in me because I scarcely believe in myself. I need someone to think I'm better than I am.

So I don't fault you because you get lost in my legs, lose yourself in my eyes, and die a happy death inside my arms without ever questioning me on my full name. Maybe I encourage it, maybe I'm to blame. I, if I am to blame, have no excuse. But you at least could have tried to find the girl underneath the smile.

They call me a slut, but you and I know the truth. I'm just full of love and looking for a place to give it.

–Marron Chestnut
#######

She felt horrible. She'd spent hours on a plane, sitting next to the only person she never wanted to see again, and it was enough to make her daydream of death. She really hated Bulma because she knew this was intentional. There was no way it was an accident, it was her own private plane after all.

Pan adjusted her sweater and put her bag across her shoulder, not bothering to turn her head to the side and catch a glance at Trunks. He'd been asleep five minutes ago when she looked, she supposed she should wake him, but the thought of touching him was enough to make her sick to the stomach.

It was bad enough that, sitting next him, she couldn't help but think about how his skin felt against hers. She wasn't about to press her luck by actually making physical contact with him. She just didn't understand how her body could respond so yearningly to someone her mind utterly detested. But apparently, how much she hated him was nothing compared to how badly she wanted him still.

All she could do, the entire plane ride, was think about how much she had wished that he had, even if only a very little, given some sign of affection, encouragement.A comforting glance, a look of regretful apology. Maybe even a look of desire that made it clear he was having the same thoughts that she was. He hadn't though and she just didn't understand how she could have given herself so fully to someone who cared so little about her now. Who cared so little about her period. The thought made her livid.

She stomped off the plane without a backward glance. Maybe, if she were lucky, he'd stay asleep and they'd fly him all the way back to Japan.

#######

He listened as her feet pounded off the plane, waiting until he was sure she was gone before he opened his eyes. Even though, for most of the plane ride, he'd had his eyes closed, he could still feel it every time her chocolate gaze landed in his direction. It was like acid burning through his face, through his conscious resistance.

He'd wanted nothing more than to reach across and grab her face, to turn it in the other direction. He'd wanted to shift in his seat, he'd wanted to jump out of the plane, he'd wanted to throw her out of it. He couldn't believe that she could be looking at him like that, angry with him like that, dressed the way she was, and all he could keep thinking about was how good she felt when he touched her.

She certainly wasn't dressed to impress. She was wearing a baggy sweater and very loose fitting sweats, her hair was pulled back and messy in the pony-tail holder, her face was pale, and she looked as distraught as he felt. But that still didn't change his thought process. Not even knowing how much she had to hate him at this moment changed the magnetic field of attraction between them.

He knew she felt it too because she kept shifting farther away in her seat, eyeing him cautiously every now and then. What he really wanted was to find somewhere they could be alone and ease this sexual tension. But admitting that, realizing that, made him angrier than he had been already and made him grab his belongings with Saiyan force.

He couldn't possibly want to sleep with her again. He'd already done that, already suffered the consequence of it, and he should have already purged the desire from his system. Once he had a girl, he didn't typically find that he couldn't stop thinking about her. But that was exactly what this felt like.

He hadn't stopped thinking about Pan since she walked out of his office over a week ago. He hadn't been able to forget the way his body reacted to hers, hadn't been able to ignore how hurt he knew she must be from the entire thing, and yet he hadn't been able to feel sorry about it either. And now he knew, without at doubt, that he'd do it again if given the opportunity.

What did that make him? A predator, a pervert? Maybe a sex-addict? Was it her that made him feel this way or was he just lonely? He honesty didn't know but the whole thing scared him. The whole situation. And he hoped, he honestly hoped, that it was her that did this to him. That there was something special about her and only she could drive him to, and past, that point of distraction. That he wasn't simply using her because he was lonely. But he had the feeling that he'd hit the nail on the head, that using her was exactly what he'd done. What he was hoping to do again. He was a horrible, horrible person.

He would not touch her, he resolved. He wouldn't lay a single finger on her amazing, hot, flesh. And he would never think of her that way again. He tried to tell himself that she was a little girl compared to him, but the second he had the thought his mind worked over every piece of her flesh that proved that thought wrong. Then he nearly lost his self-restraint again.

He couldn't do this to himself. It wasn't fair for him to be thinking about her that way - for either him or her. It wasn't fair that they'd slept together, it was just plain wrong. Earlier, he felt as if, by some strange cosmic act, if he pretended that it hadn't happened it would go away. But he couldn't even seem to get to the part where he was pretending, much less the part where it went away. All he could think of was her. More specifically, her naked, writhing body under his own. And that was as far as he could get in his pretending, which wasn't even remotely close to the target.

He only had to be on this trip for one full day and half of another, he would talk to her, explain that he was sorry about what happened and relieve her of all responsibility, then he would be far away from her. In the meantime, he resolved, he couldn't spend even a second alone with her. He'd lose all self-control if he did.

He strolled off the plane slowly, tipping his head down in greeting to the pilot as he left, and found his way towards the area where the two cars were waiting to take the group to the hotel Bulma had arranged for them. The girls were already in one of the cars, Goten and Ubuu waiting for him in the other. He handed his bag to the driver and walked around to ease his way into the backseat, passenger side.

#######

Something was wrong with the rooms. Pan was afraid to ask what it was. Her heart pounded in her chest as she walked back from the hotel bathroom, back over to the group. They were gathered in a circle discussing arrangements. Upon approach she could tell that Trunks' face was slightly red from quiet anger and she silently prayed it had nothing to do with her. Or, more specifically, her and him.

Then, before she was close enough to hear what they were saying, another thought jarred her and froze her feet to the floor. Hadn't she considered, before she decided to come on this crazy get-together, that maybe Bulma would try and shove Trunks in the same room as her?

She had enough power and prestige to do it, too. And then what would Pan do? She nearly choked on the thought, her whole face turning white. She closed her eyes, drawing her fingers up to her face in silent prayer to anyone who was willing to listen, begging them not to let her fears be confirmed in a second. Then she heard a voice call her name and slowly opened one of her eyes to peek at the group of them. They were all staring at her now.

"Pan," It would be Bra that showed the most concern. "Are you all right?" Her crease-free face wrinkled as she asked, taking a step toward Pan with the intent of resting a consoling hand on her shoulder. Pan stepped back slightly before she responded.

"Just fine. Thanks." Her eyes made it clear that she didn't want Bra's, or anyone else's for that matter, attention, as she found the strength to draw in a breath. "At least, I will be when someone tells me there's no shortage of rooms."

"There's no shortage of rooms, Pan." Bra assured her with a small, forced, laugh as she dropped her well meaning hand back to her side. "We were just discussing where our bags had been dropped off. It seems that the rooms aren't right next to each other, as we had hoped. We'll all have to be separated, you see."

Pan almost smiled, the thought was so pleasing. She could go to her room and not have to see Trunks through the entirety of this insane trip. That would simply be perfect, but she felt there was something more because she felt, more than saw, Trunks' piercing eyes giving her a death glare from beneath his lavender lashes.

"On different floors, even," Goten added, giving his niece a face that spoke volumes. He was clearly uncomfortable with that thought for some reason.

"Okay, so we won't be staying in rooms close to each other, what's the problem?"

"That's it, Pan." Bra told her as if she were a simpleton. "How are we going to spend time with one another if we're all on different floors of the hotel? What an inconvenience. We were trying to get them to change the rooms but, for some reason, they're being extremely difficult."

"Not for 'some reason'," Goten corrected her with unwarranted animosity. "They have no other rooms available. Don't speak as if they didn't try to convenience us."

"Well, you don't have to get so offended simply because-"

"Bra, it's not as if we have to stay in our own rooms, you know." That was Ubuu, trying to keep the peace and interrupt the fight both Bra and Goten seemed to be dying to give to each other.

Pan thought their behavior slightly odd, considering what she knew of Bra's feelings toward her uncle, but didn't have much time to consider it as she heard Ubuu speak. For some reason, his statement made her very uncomfortable. She shifted in her posture at the exact same second Trunks did, both of them glancing awkwardly toward one another.

"So, have they already told us the rooms?" Pan asked, riding over Bra's voice as she formed her response to Ubuu. "Can I pick mine and get unpacked?"

"Yes, no, and yes." Ubuu told her, twirling a key in his fingers and then handing it to her. "They've already taken our stuff and settled in it a room, we told them it didn't matter which they picked for which you see, and so your stuff is in this room." She took the key from him, suspiciously eyeing the number before she snuck another glance at Trunks who was still glaring at her.

She sighed, tried not to blush, and then looked at the number. Forbidding rose in the pit of her stomach as she opened her mouth to ask the question that was burning on her tongue. The words wouldn't come out. They didn't need to.

"Second floor, right next to me." Trunks told her as if reading the question in her eyes.

She pushed back the groan that wanted to spill from her throat, forcing herself not to roll her eyes as she made a smile curve her lips upward slightly. "That's just great. Who wants to switch rooms with me? Marron? Goten? Ubuu? Bra?" She quirked her eyebrow up with each name, not able to stop herself from making it clear that she'd rather be killed than that close to him.

"What's wrong with you two?" This was Marron, her voice slightly shrewd, slightly suspicious as she asked. She turned toward Pan, narrowing her eyes, as she continued. "He asked the exact same thing, the exact same way before you came back. What's going on?" She sounded far beyond curious, more like accusing.

Pan ignored her question, almost as if she hadn't opened her mouth at all. "Well, which one of you? Somebody's going to." Pan nearly threatened as she glared, clenching her fists slightly.

"Pan, I've already tried-"

"I'm not talking to you, Trunks-San." Her nostrils flared as she raised her voice, challenging him to continue without even bothering to give him a glimpse of her expression of fierce anger. "Which one of you?" She quirked an eyebrow, daring them to ignore her, danger filling the space quicker than any of them had ever seen.

"I would have," Marron spoke up, her face glowing slightly. "But I just decided that I would probably like the view better from the fifth floor."

In other words, I shouldn't have ignored you. Pan thought, narrowing her eyes a little more. Then she opened her mouth and smiled nicely at Marron. "You won't change your mind?"

"I wouldn't do you the injustice, Panny." She simpered as Pan drew her head back in surprise and slight confusion, yet not daring to ask her to explain. Marron did anyway. "A country-bumpkin like you, this might be as close as you ever get to his bed. And we all know how long you've been scheming to get in it."

Pan lost it, right in the lobby of the hotel, she drew back and then charged, throwing herself at Marron's neck. Trunks, as luck would have it, was the first one to realize her intent and grabbed at her, gripping around her waist and drawing her body against his.

She struggled against him, causing a wonderful friction to build up as he held her there, tightening his arms around her waist to keep her in place. Then, as everyone else realized what she was planning to do and broke into astonished chastisement as one, Trunks realized he was unable to calm her. She wouldn't stop grinding against him, trying to get out of his grip and he wasn't going to let her go. But if she kept it up he was going to lose his mind, she felt far too good to be rubbing against him that way right now. He clenched his jaw and leaned down, whispering,

"If you aren't still, and quickly, I'm going to lose it Pan. This isn't exactly a comfortable position to be holding you in."

She realized, almost immediately, what he meant and stilled. Not because of the threat in his tone so much as because his voice, softly feeding her the information, sent shivers down her spine. It was then that she realized she was completely enveloped in his arms, in Trunks' arms, and it was the last place she wanted to be.

"What the hell is wrong with you, Pan-Chan?" Goten questioned as Trunks slowly let her go. She yanked her body the rest of the way out of his arms, crossing her own arms over her chest in a sort-of self-defense mechanism against the brief comfort she felt from his touch.

"You know better than to start fights in the middle of public places. Especially unfair attacks like that." He continued to chastise, staring down at her as if she'd lost her good sense.

"Did you hear," Pan started, her breathing labored with unreleased anger. "What she said to me?" She looked to Marron with contempt. The blond was smirking, not the least bit surprised as she stood there, her eyes calculating every event that occurred.

"Just because, Chestnut, you're a whore who would consider the possibility of something like that happening, doesn't mean everyone else is." Bra made the comment, intending to be Pan's champion, for which Pan was everything less than grateful. She couldn't even think about looking at Trunks as Bra finished the statement, a deep red creeping up her neck and around her ears.

What a time to turn red, she silently cursed herself. Thankful that Marron's, and everyone else's, attention had turned to Bra now. But she couldn't help it, Bra had just, indirectly and without meaning to, called her a whore. She had, after all, not only considered the possibility of sleeping with him but had already done it once.

For a long moment of strained silence, Bra and Marron stared each other down with seething looks that would have killed lesser-willed people. Finally, Marron closed her eyes, opened them, and turned away from Bra without a word. No one else dared to say anything to either of them, or anyone else, for a good while. Then as Pan looked down at her cursed key again and sighed, Marron said,

"You'll have to forgive me, Pan, I didn't realize you were Bra's charity case this year. Aren't you a lucky girl, then? The brother and sister in one day. My, my." She pursed her lips, her eyes shining with satisfaction, and walked away.

Pan thought of rushing her again but knew that none of the guys would let her rip Marron's head off, she looked back down at her key instead, pressing her lips tightly together. Then, before anyone could say anything to her, she turned and walked toward the stairs, not wanting to have to wait for the elevator with Marron. Though, riding the elevator alone with Marron might not be so bad; she could kill her without witnesses. But, she knew, there were always surveillance cameras in those things so that wouldn't exactly work. It was the only thought she had as she lifted her feet up stair after stair until she reached the second floor.

She didn't know why the hell she was here, she hated every single person in her company. Every one of them, Goten was no exception at the moment, he'd done this to her.

None of them saw her leave her room again for the rest of the night.

#######

Marron downed her fifth glass of rum and slammed the glass back down on the bar. She turned to look at the guy sitting next to her, watching her with an admiring stare, and smiled at him with her eyes. She'd forgotten his name, but that didn't really matter, she supposed. It wouldn't be the first time she woke up next to someone she didn't know. She giggled softly and pushed her long, silky-blond hair behind her ear.

The man scooted closer to her, matching her intense gaze, his enchanting gold eyes drawing her in. "What was I saying?" She muttered, her speech slightly slurred. "Ooohhh, yeah. And she just dis..." She paused, tasting the word she was trying to get out. Her face wrinkled with confusion, brow creasing with complete loss. "Disruumm...? Disreach..? Dis-ree-gou-?" Her lips curled with the effort, her head reeling and disoriented. What was she saying again? She didn't remember. Only that it was funny.

Her laughter was accompanied by his as he helped her with the word, sliding his arm around her shoulder and smiling lightly. "Disregarded, sugar?" She smiled, nodding and trying to point her finger directly at him as she continued on. She was pointing a little too far to the left, and too far down to be on target.

"Yesh. Dis-du-gard-eded." She lifted an eyebrow again, wondering if she said it right and shaking her head. It didn't matter, he knew what she meant. "She ignored, dammit," She beat her hand on the table to prove her point, laughing softly to herself at finally getting it right.

"What did she ignore, sugar?"

"Us!" That word was slurred too, and said too loudly. He smiled softly again, patting her shoulders and urging her to continue. She felt good about that. "She ignored our friendship." Then she seemed to be caught up with the word 'friendship', repeating it again and again, smiling each time. She rose the word at the end, making it into a question. Then she repeated it again, slurring the 'ship' even more than before and giggling. He sighed but she barely heard it and definitely didn't care.

She picked up her glass again, eyeing it curiously and turning it upside down. She beat on the bottom of it and then sat it back down with a pout. "More." Was her simple request, her face lighting as she said it. He shook his head as she pouted in his direction.

"I think you've had enough, darlin'. What's your room number?"

"Oooohhhh." She drew the word out, giggling in the middle and at the end of it. "I see. I've had enough." As she said it she ran her hands ungracefully over his face, ending with her fingers sliding over his lips. He laughed again.

"Yes, more than enough. What's your room number, sugar?"

"Do you want to walk me to my room, then?" She asked, jumping off the stool and stumbling into his side with a 'umph'.

"Yes." He answered as he steadied her, getting off his own stool and putting his arm on her back to keep her up.

"Oh, okay." She pulled away from him and started to dig through her purse, nearly falling three times in the process before pulling out the key. She handed it to him with a broad smile but no farther comment.

He sighed, shaking his head. The poor girl thought he was going to take advantage of her and she wasn't even protesting it. She was, in fact, encouraging it. He had to get her to her room before somebody more willing to be a pervert came along and took advantage of the situation. She was pretty as peach pie too, so he wouldn't feel right just leaving her to fend for herself.

#######

She didn't know what she was doing, she silently admitted to herself as tried to still her anxious nerves. She shoved the uncertainty deep inside herself and swallowed hard, bringing her hand up slowly to knock quietly on the door. She regretted doing it immediately.

Maybe he was busy, or he wasn't in the room. Maybe he simply wouldn't answer. And, she thought with an increasing edge of uneasiness, maybe he would. What would she say? What would she do? What if she couldn't even speak, just stood there looking like an idiot with her mouth hanging open? What then?

The door opened before she could consider the answer, before she could come up with a suitable solution. Of course he'd heard her knock, he was Saiyan wasn't he? She silently cursed herself as she bit her lips and smiled nervously at him. But her mind went blank, she had absolutely nothing to say.

He relieved her of the awkward moment that was sure to ensue when he stepped back to silently invite her in. That was throwing her for a loop, his eyes looked as if he knew everything she wanted to say but couldn't, she hadn't expected him to invite her in.

What was he expecting her to say? Bra drew in a deep breath as she stepped into Goten's hotel room, wringing her hands nervously. She was here now, she had to say something. Why had she thought to come anyway?

#######

"Who the hell are you? No, don't answer that, never mind who the hell you are. What the hell are you doing to her?" Ubuu's face was turning red as he yelled the question, looking absolutely furious. There was a guy holding Marron against her room door, from his perspective the whole thing looked absolutely incriminating - she was rubbing her hands up and down his chest, he held a silly smirk on his face, and she was clearly inebriated. It didn't matter what this jerk said, there was nothing that was going to stop Ubuu from pounding his head in.

He could only see red, only hear the roaring in his ears that told him he wanted to taste that man's blood. He hated, more than anything, watching what Marron did to herself.

It wasn't the first time he'd caught her like this, with someone she didn't know, doing something she wouldn't remember in the morning. And every time he felt something inside of him ache, break, yearn to save her. He wanted to be her champion but she would never let him. He'd begged her to let him help her a million times, but she never came to him with her problems until she went to someone else first. And it absolutely killed him.

Now, clenching his fists and watching the smirk wipe off the guy's face to be replaced with caution and guilt, he felt that anger and pain rising dangerously again. This would never have happened if Marron trusted him enough to share her problems, he thought while walking closer to them.

"Get away from her." Ubuu commanded, gritting his teeth and trying to maintain his anger.

"Listen partner, you've got the wrong idea. I was just tryin' to get this lady to her room, is all. Nothin' more."

"Sure looks like more to me." Ubuu's voice was deadly calm. He knew that veins were popping out on his forehead from the way the guy was staring at him, but he didn't care. What mattered was that he hadn't blasted this bastard yet. Nothing else. He deserved a medal for his patience.

"She's drunk." The guy stated the obvious, distractedly pushing her hand away from his chest and giving her a reproving frown in the process. Ubuu sighed, running his fingers through his black hair.

"That much is painfully clear."

"She your lady?" Ubuu heard Marron giggle from behind the guy, smiling sweetly and waving at him as if she just realized he was there. He managed a weak upturn of the lips, giving her a small nod.

"Yeah, she is." He lied, narrowing his eyes and silently daring the guy to make a move or start denying that it was true. He didn't.

"I thought as much. Well, listen, she's pretty upset about something and I've only been able to catch snippets. You might be wantin' to have a talk with her."

"I don't need your advice in the matter, thanks. I'm sure I know her better than some stranger she met at the open bar of a hotel room."

The guy sighed and smiled softly as Marron giggled again and pushed her way, unsteadily, away from him. She stumbled into Ubuu and buried her head in his chest.

"We were just going to...We were going to...?" She frowned, looking up at him and wrinkling her nose in confusion.

"How much did she have to drink?" Ubuu asked, giving the guy a slightly decent look as he wrapped his arms around Marron.

"My room!" She shouted happily, having figured it out. "But you're here now. So you can come instead." Her grin was wide now, as if she'd solved some big problem.

"A little more than too much. I walked in on the last half of it, I think. I saw her take three glasses before I told her she'd had too much. You really should keep your eye on that one, she's exactly the type of girl men go a prowlin' for. But look, buddy," He continued, catching the dangerous look in Ubuu's eyes. "I'm not that type of man. I swear I was just going to get her in her room and make sure she was okay."

"I might be crazy," Ubuu sighed, taking the key the man had just reached his hand out to give him. "But I believe you. I'd leave, if I were you, before I changed my mind." The guy didn't waste any time, nodding solemnly and heading down the hall without a backward glance. Ubuu sighed as Marron ran her hand 'seductively' up his chest. It was going to be a long night.

To be continued...

sidenote: I just want to make this comment now, because I know what you're all thinking and what you're going to reply with; don't discount Marron's character as 1-dimensional just yet. (i.e. you think she's a stupid, mean, slut that just needs to go die. Or you hate that I depict her as said things and wish I would stop being so cliche.) There's more to Marron's character in this fic than meets the eye, so give her a chance to redeem herself before you cast your stones. 'Kay?