Disclaimer: Alright, you caught me, I don't own it. Sorry 'bout the mix up.
Disclaimer 2: (forgot this last time :-/) I don't own the title of chapter 9 (All at Once) nor do I own the italics at the beginning of Pan's part which contain the lyrics to All at Once. They belong to Whitney Houston and all others who collaborated in that work.

A/n: First I'd like to say sorry that it took so long to update. I'd fill your head with excuses but I don't wanna, so we'll just leave it at: I'm lazy, end of story. I'll try better next time. Next, I'd like to thank you lovely people who review me every week and give me wonderful criticism and the like. I love you! ^-^ And lastly, and this is important, this chapter is pushing my PG-13 rating, just a warning. I don't think it's that bad, but there is some…er…for a lack of a more creative word, controversial stuff in this chapter that might upset you (sexually controversial that is…) and if you don't like it, skip over it. It's nothing too bad, again, but just a warning. And don't be too mad if it's kind of poorly written and you want to laugh at me or something, took me three different drafts before I stopped editing it :-/ Never written anything even close to that before. Oy, this a/n is long so I'll shut-up.

Lessons on Friendship

The room went completely silent the minute the words left his lips. No one was sure they'd heard right and no one was willing to ask. Only Pan had had the least bit warning of what was to come from this 'announcement' and even she hadn't expected things to be taken this far. The surroundings were weighted with a heavy atmosphere, but it had been since Pan walked in - late because Ms. Henson had kept her. She'd been the last one to arrive and there was a quiet patience as everyone else waited for her to put her things away.

She'd come down and everyone tried to have a civil dinner, void of awkwardness, but failed. Marron kept biting her nails and glancing weightily at Trunks. Trunks who kept his head as low as possible at all times, making sure his eyes didn't meet with anyone else's. Especially Pan's. Pan who kept getting sympathetic looks from Bulma and Bra and guilty looks from Marron - who was trying to smile in her direction like a good friend.

Vegita had been statically silent and Eighteen and Krillin had kept their faces stony the entire night. Gohan took more time to glare at Trunks than eat his food and left Pan quizzically curious. What had Trunks done that was so wrong? It seemed as if everyone were being casually cold in his direction, holding glares in their eyes and smiles on their faces. But shouldn't he be getting sympathetic looks as well as her? He'd suffered as well, albeit not as traumatically. Had she missed something? Because everyone seemed to be holding some covert hostility towards Trunks and she had no idea why. And apparently he didn't either, for all through dinner he continued to stare dramatically at his plate.

After dinner was over, they had all moved into the small living space of the Sons. And then he had done it - Goten had announced the news that had everyone shocked into horrified silence.

And that's where they all were, looking at one another to make sure the other had heard what they'd heard. When someone did dare to speak, it was Vegita, who sliced through the quiet with his sharp words of 'approval', and woke everyone from their stupor.

"Well that's good for you boy," He announced in his usual passive voice, calm but slightly annoyed. "You called us all here to tell us that?" It was clear that he didn't feel he should be there, his tone was saying it for him, why should I care? Then he mixed a 'humph' with a grunt and crossed his arms, leaning back in the chair he was so placidly resting on.

"Vegita!" Bulma whispered, hoarse but harsh as her face paled. "Watch your mouth tonight.' Her eyes briefly cut at him and then glittered back to her son, seated next to her, as she regarded him the way one would a pile of broken glass. Her hand snaked out cautiously and she rubbed the back of his neck. His eyes opened and closed numbly a few times as he took in his surroundings. Quickly, once his eyes were back to normal, he snatched his body away from her reach and the room fell into uncomfortable silence again. Goten didn't dare respond to Vegita and Marron was fidgeting with a flustered look that said she would fall apart any second.

Pan's face was also flustered, but for an entirely different reason. She was more than furious with her uncle for this announcement. She couldn't believe he was doing this, was willing to do this, would risk it after all they'd been through. Who did he think he was? He'd truly lost his mind, had truly blown it this time. He was wiling to throw away a lifetime's worth of friendship over this…over her? She wasn't worth the risk and before Pan could stop herself, the words had run out of her mouth.

"She's not worth it." She stated firmly, eyes glossed and lost in her own world. Marron took a glance at her, received the girl's meaning, and choked. Then she fell into a fit of tears, quietly and dignified; she didn't move to wipe them away or hide their existence from anyone's view, only sat as if she weren't really crying at all.

"Pan," Gohan softly chided, scorn very lightly pasted on his face, though it was clear he wasn't truly upset. At least, not with her. She wasn't so sure how he felt about Trunks at the moment, or Goten for that matter.

"I guess, congratulations are in order." Videl jumped in, trying to break the ice. She laughed nervously and fidgeted with her hair, hands faltering only slightly, lips upturning in a painful kind of smile. But it was at the moment that she chose to bring some semblance of peace - of calm - that Trunks found his voice, hopping up and cutting her off before she could continue.

"Have you lost your mind, Goten? You can't be serious." He pushed a small laugh out of his throat and stared with glossy, disbelieving eyes.

"Would I kid about something like this?" Was Goten's soft, routine answer. It sounded as if he'd been waiting for that question from the beginning, and he probably had.

"You're not seriously going to…to…You're not considering…" Trunks couldn't even form the words they were so horrible. He had a strange sense that if they fell off his lips they would burn his tongue, his mouth, like acid. He couldn't repeat anything that horrible and he didn't even want to think on it. This was some kind of sick practical joke, some form or torture, some atrocious nightmare. "You two shouldn't even be dating, much less…" Again, he couldn't say it.

"Trunks," Goten tried to begin in a soothing voice, but he was cut off by Trunks' mindless rambling.

"You guys aren't serious. This isn't going to last, it's a minimal fling, not worth your time Goten. You'll never-"

There was anger in Goten's eyes when he interrupted this time, and his voice came out in a harsh sort of soothe, like an adult who was telling a child not to play with matches. "I'd never risk our friendship over something that wasn't guaranteed to last, Trunks." Pan wanted to wince after he'd said the statement, but fought back the urge. She knew what Trunks' reaction to that would be, and it wouldn't be good. At the mention of 'friendship' Trunks drew in a deep breath and stared at Goten as if seeing him for the first time.

"And yet you don't mind throwing it away for her? Years worth of friendship, of standing by each other's sides, of being there for one another. Years worth of having each other's backs and defending each other in the time of need. And you're going to equate it all to nothing for this? How can you…" He voice dropped so low that no one could hear it anymore, and everyone was shifting nervously in their seats. Goten tensed and glared at Trunks, not really trusting himself to respond - things were bad enough already. He simply responded with a calm,

"I don't like what your tone suggests of Marron. You make it seem as if she's not worth anything, Trunks. I can't help the way I feel, and I won't pretend I don't… - I'm just not going to sit around here and watch her walk away because I was too afraid of what would happen if I said or did something. You can understand that, can't you?"

"Understand? Goten I don't understand it at all. You're supposed to be my friend, you're supposed to be there for me when I need you. And I'm supposed to be able to trust you. I don't need someone that's going to steal my soul because I turned my back for too long. That's not friendship, that's betrayal, and no, I don't understand it."

Vegita sat up in his chair and opened his mouth to say something, probably something nasty, but he caught the side look Bulma was giving him and closed it promptly, sitting back in his seat and looking aggravated again. Gohan scooted closer to the end of his chair, seeing the way his brother was tensing and un-tensing, seeing the anger in Trunks' eyes. He didn't want the boys to resort to violence and ruin everything over something that wouldn't matter in two years. Finally Goten seemed to find the words to respond, and they weren't pretty words either.

"How dare you stand here and preach to me about morals and the importance of trust in friendship!?" He was nearly yelling now, outraged that Trunks could form the words. "How can you say anything to me? You're a self-righteous bastard, Trunks." He was standing now, and Gohan was easing farther into his chair, getting tenser by the second. This didn't look promising.

"You call me here to tell me that, two months after Marron and I decide not to get married, you're going to marry her, and I'm self-righteous? You've got some nerve." Trunks clenched his jaw, glaring at Goten, unable to comprehend the turn this conversation had taken. Two seconds ago he was the one being betrayed, and Goten managed to turn it around somehow. Trunks didn't know how, but he sure as hell was about to find out. Both boys marched up to each other's faces, not stopping until they were only mere inches apart, and glared intently at the other. Everyone in the room held their breath, no one dared to say anything, but Gohan inched farther still, out of his chair.

"Don't play innocent with me." Goten spoke, dangerously low and threatening in his tone. There was more anger in his eyes than anyone had ever seen him possess before, and Chi-Chi was wiggling nervously, while Videl pulled on the fingers of one of her hands with the fingers of the other. Bulma held her breath and looked uneasily between the boys, hoping they could talk their way out of the anger, hoping that Trunks would yell and then feel better. He'd been holding too much in lately.

"Don't stand there and act like you're everyone's Mr. Perfect Night in Shinning Armor. And don't ever preach to me about morals. You don't have any, if you did, you would have called."

"What?" Trunks asked, anger momentarily lifting from his face and twisting into confusion.

"You know damn well what I'm talking about. No one else wants to say anything, but I'm not walking on eggshells for you, oh mighty Prince of Saiyan." His voice was condescending as he continued, still close to Trunks' face, still angry as he spoke. "In case you haven't noticed because your head's too far up your ass, take a look around. Everyone in this room wants to kill you save the two people who should want to more than us." His eyes glanced at Marron and then locked on Pan.

"I didn't do-"

"Save it, you prick. You should have called. Correct me if I'm wrong but we didn't receive a single call from you this or last month. Right?" Trunks glanced around the room, frustrated because somehow Goten had made him look like an ass, and still confused because he didn't have a clue what the man was getting at.

"We all sat around and held our breaths while she died, piece by piece, because the only person she wanted help from was too busy pitying himself to give a damn. Do you realize how many times we knocked on her door and were turned away because she was still holding on to this ideal fantasy where you would come and rescue her? Can you even guess? Do you care?"

Trunks' face flashed a tirade of rage before settling upon restful hurt. "You know I do." His voice was softer, a torn and panicked expression plastered on his face.

"I'm not so sure." Goten shook his head, glancing at Marron who'd dried her tears, and suddenly he switched topics. Now he was talking about Marron. "Don't blame her for what happened here. Don't blame her for what did and didn't work, she tried, we both know she did. It wasn't her fault. You can blame me all you want to, I don't give a damn, but not her. And especially not her." His eyes were stationed at Pan again, and he was once again referencing her. "It's not her fault things worked out the way they did. It's not her fault you spent months dismissing and ignoring what's right in your face. It's not her fault you shut yourself off from the word while you tried to decide if you loved her or not. And it's not her fault you didn't love her either."

Trunks' fist made contact with Goten's cheek before he could catch himself; he was fuming. His breath came out in ragged breaks as Goten fell back and caught his balance. Gohan was on his feet, but made no move to get between them as their spat continued, though Goten made no move to hit him back. The women cupped their mouths with their hands - all except Pan who was scowling deeply - and managed an offended look. Vegita began to laugh as Trunks' question reached the air.

"Which one were you talking about? Which one don't I love?"

"I don't know, Trunks." Goten responded smugly, wiping blood off his bottom lip. "Because you don't. I guess you need to figure it out." It was clear Goten had had a specific 'she' in mind and was only pulling Trunks' leg.

The purple-haired saiyan growled as he picked up on Goten's hidden meaning, still not sure who he was talking about, he continued on anyway, "I do love her. And I would never hurt her on purpose. And I don't need a dick like you trying to make me feel worse. It was never a question of how I felt, I just needed time so I could figure things out. So I could work things out with her because I love her, but then you came screwing with my mind." He paused, then continued on, if only to convince himself. "It was never a question of whether I loved her or not, I always have. And you're not helping matters." His fists were still clinched as if he wanted to hit Goten again, and he did want to.

"Now who are you talking about?" Goten mused, knowing the answer but also knowing Trunks had no idea. Trunks frowned, too angry to analyze what he'd just said, or even wonder where it had come from, and shook his head. He heard his father's laughter in the background again, but fought the urge to knock the smile off the man's face - that was more than he could chew.

"I don't know." He answered honestly, lowering his head in shame. Goten stepped back, clenching his fist and ready to punch some sense into the boy but someone's voice interrupted.

"Stop it, just stop it. I've had enough." It was Pan. She covered her head with her hands, looking distressed. "I don't need this. I don't…I don't need you and Trunks fighting. I don't want you two to be like this. I don't need this stress. And I don't need you two talking about me like I'm not sitting right here! So just stop." She fought back the tears as she flared her power to let them know that she was serious. If they fought they'd have to take her out before they could get to each other. "One of you needs to leave."

Her command lingered in the air for innumerable seconds, hanging over everyone's head with deadly pressure; no one had the nerve to move or breath too loudly - even Vegita had stopped laughing. Trunks and Goten were having a staring contest with one another to see who would give in before the other. Finally, Trunks began to get irritated, his anger and conscience weighing on him, and he looked at Pan.

"I'll go." He stated simply, but his eyes looked so sad and detached that Pan was afraid of what would happen when he left. He turned to walk away and she quietly spoke to stop him, but her heart was pounding so loudly in her ears that when she called out it was more of a yell.

"Wait!" His head turned back to face hers, eyes searching in a mystified expression of regret. She couldn't possibly forgive him, could she? And yet the look on her face that followed the command proved him wrong. The eyes of every person in the room were lingering on her, she could nearly hear the breath being held. She walked over to her father and whispered something in his ear, knowing he wasn't going to like what she had to say.

Gohan eyed her wearily from his position on the floor, still standing as if he were waiting for a bomb to explode. He wanted to call out some kind of protest but was at a loss for words, the extent of today's misgivings finally weighing him down. But he simply didn't want her to do it, the girl was far too emotionally scarred right now to be in the company of another emotionally scarred person. If something were to go wrong between Trunks and Pan tonight, they'd never be able to mend the void. And his daughter might break from the pressure of it all.

Finally, he opened his mouth to say something, but wisely looked about him. She was already gone, had already pulled Trunks out of the door. A shiver ran up Gohan's spine as he thought back on the girl's words. I'm going to stay with him tonight, daddy. That was a bad omen, this couldn't turn out good. He didn't trust Trunks in this state. I don't trust him to be alone. Apparently, neither did Pan.

"What are you doing?" Trunks asked Pan as though she were crazy, after they had made it out of the door without farther incident.

"Yeah, because I was going to let you be alone right now. That would have been smart of me." She supplied, sarcasm dripping in her voice.

"It's not your job to look after me, you know, I'm a grown man." He tried to place annoyance in his voice but it was clear that he was very blank of any emotion; not even bitterness was seeping out of him and it made her heart hurt to see his eyes.

"You could try acting like it sometimes." She muttered, annoyed despite his obvious lack of any emotion. "Listen, let's just go." She softly supplied, wanting to ease the terrified shivers that danced down her spine as her eyes lingered on his void depths. She quickly looked away.

"Well, where'd you have in mind?" He questioned stubbornly, it being clear that he didn't want her company, and yet, just as clear that he did.

"Wherever you were about to go will do just fine." She countered, not willing to be shoved aside anymore. She wasn't going to leave him alone in this condition, and that was final.

"I was about to go to the office. I still have some papers I need to read through and I don't want to bore you. So you can go back into your house and don't worry about me, I'll be fine."

"I don't care if you're the happiest person on this earth, Trunks. I haven't seen you in over two months and now you're trying to get rid of me for some pieces of paper? I'm coming and that's the end of it."

"Don't bother trying to humor me, Pan. I know why you're insisting and I'm not going to let you come. Go back inside." He took on a fatherly tone that said he wouldn't be swayed, but that wasn't a good idea because it only seemed to enrage her.

"I am not leaving you alone when you're in this state, Trunks! Don't argue with me, there's no point, I'm not giving in." She set her feet in the pavement and turned her head upwards in an indignant fashion that clearly stated she was going to win. He sighed, not having the energy to argue anymore, knowing he was too tired to do anything but crawl over and die, and rolled his eyes. He was giving in.

"Pan, I'm not liable for what I say or do in this state. You don't want to be there for rock bottom." He tried to warn but she wasn't hearing his excuses.

"Fine, I've been warned. That means nothing to me. I'm the best friend you have right now, maybe the only, and I'm not letting you throw that away because you're pitying yourself too much to care that I care." She sent him a glare that made him wish he were fighting Goten instead of arguing with her.

"I've always cared, Pan. I-"

"Don't say anything else, Trunks. Let's just go to your office, shall we?" He nodded, not able to meet her eyes anymore. Sometimes it was just too hard to pretend he was alright.

*

"Alright then," Pan said as they stepped into his office, flicking on the light switch and wincing as her eyes adjusted to the brightness. "Get what you need and let's go." He raised an eyebrow at her curiously.

"What do you mean, 'let's go'?" He smiled briefly, but it never reached his blue orbs, and tried to take on a playful manner. "We're going where?"

"Your place, of course." She answered as though it had been previously discussed.

"Why would we do that?" He asked, while walking over to his desk and taking a seat. His hands automatically began shuffling through papers and she sighed.

"Because I told you I wasn't leaving you alone like this, and I'm sure you hadn't planned on staying in your office all night." She responded dully, but he never stopped a beat, flipping through papers and smiling lightly all the while.

"What makes you so sure? That's exactly what I planned on doing. Wouldn't be the first time I've pulled an all-nighter." She snorted and then looked at his face. Seeing his 'serious' resolve she sighed and shifted the weight of her body onto the other foot.

"Fine." She answered curtly, walking into his office and taking a seat. She knew what he was trying to do and she wasn't going to let him. He wasn't going to bore her away with work, she'd said she wasn't leaving him and she meant it. "Do you need any help with anything?" She decided to beat him to his ultimate goal. She was sure that he believed the second he asked for help she'd be out of there like there wasn't a tomorrow, because she hated being his 'secretary' more than anything. Paperwork was so boring to her, but she wasn't going to give him the upper hand.

"No thanks, Pan." He shook his head, really involved in the paper he was looking over. He blindly stuck his free hand out and patted the desk until it landed on a pen. He brought it up to his mouth and pulled the cap off, then he began to scribble furiously. She watched him for a good ten minutes before she grew bored, realizing that he really was going to work, and she sighed, getting up from her chair and walking over to the floor. She took a seat cross-legged and began to amuse herself with picking pictures out of his tiled floor instead of her painted ceiling, the same way she'd done at her house for weeks. But at least while Trunks were sitting there she wouldn't get a visit from Gabriel and begin to talk to him.

*

It was a long time before he dropped the pen and lowered his head into his hands, exhaustion creeping in. He couldn't pretend anymore, couldn't ignore anymore. The scribbling had stopped and Pan rose from her position on the floor to try and see Trunks' face. She became aware of the unnatural way his shoulders rose and fell while his head was in his hands. A sob erupted from his lips and she moved around his desk to swivel his chair in her direction. She'd been preparing for the moment when he would break, knew it was coming soon, and knew exactly what to say to snap him out of it.

The girl roughly pulled his hands away from his face and gave him the meanest scowl she could muster. "Grow up, Trunks." She fought the urge to smack him back to his sense. Her eyes locked with his and she could see the withheld passion - he wanted to smack her too. "Marron is gone. She's happy at least. And she's alive, so just grow up."

"You don't know what it's like Pan, you've never loved someone you couldn't have that way." She huffed, disbelief overtaking her features, and puffed her eyes out, shock written clearly in them. A scoff rolled off her lips before she could stop it and she, once again, restrained herself from hurting him.

"Haven't I?" Her eyebrows lifted questioningly.

"Gabriel doesn't count, he never left you Pan." He answered without really thinking about it and her eyes looked over his with a blank confusion. What was he doing? Why was he pretending as if he wasn't aware of how in love with him she was?

"Then where is he, Trunks?" She decided against yelling that she'd never loved Gabriel, that she couldn't have him.

"That's not the point Pan." He shook his head, still completely oblivious to his surroundings. She couldn't believe what she was hearing, but she wasn't sure how to even respond to this. Had he gone completely crazy? Maybe he was just in a very delicate sense and she should play along, in case he snapped or something. And she had thought she was bad.

"What's the point, Trunks?" She asked softly, the way a mother would ask a child to describe their invisible friend. He took no notice to her voice infliction and answered her question without hesitation or any sign of the annoyance one would give if they knew they were being patronized.

"The point is, I'm past hurt. I'm dead. Look," He grabbed her hand and placed it on his chest. "It's only beating because it's used to it. Mechanics are all I know. It's all I have left. I work because I've always worked, it's what I did before and it's what I do now. I haven't got anything else." His tears dropped and rolled onto the hand that she'd just placed on his shoulder. She reluctantly sighed and pulled him into her arms, upset with the turn things had taken. How was she supposed to snap him to his senses when he was being so emotional and difficult? Not to mention slightly frayed and unnerved. "I don't even have my pride now," He continued on. "I'd never cry in front of anyone…before…Well, not anyone else."

"Shh." She soothed as a whimper fell from his wounded lips. She ran her hands through his hair and then down to his neck. "It's okay, you know. You have me, Trunks. You'll always have me." She placed her lips on his cheek warmly then pulled back and rubbed his neck again. He pulled away from her and met his eyes with hers, their breathing synchronized at a slightly increased speed, and it was like the entire atmosphere in the room changed. His eyes were no longer distant, he was there. He wasn't seeing past her anymore, he was seeing her, he was feeling her, he knew who she was and that she was there. He was aware that he was crying childishly and he wiped the tears away.

A small smile played on his lips as he fought back the blush that was threatening to rise. "Thanks, Pan." He nodded at her, acknowledging what she'd said. "I love you, you know, sometimes I think you're the only one I can love. Not even Bra or Mom knows how to calm me the way you do." Her stomach lurched with the familiar lovely pain of butterflies as he made the confession and she bit down on her lip to keep the smile from coming. She was ashamed that even in a time like this her feelings were still fluttering around her head and weighing so heavily it made it hard for her to breathe. And she wanted to say that his confession held nothing but brotherly affection behind it but there was a distinctive glow there that she hadn't ever known him to use before and she felt as if he were saying much more than she heard.

"Thank you." He repeated as he stood up to pull her body into a hug. He held onto her tightly, as if he were afraid she wouldn't be there if he let go, his arms wrapped around her waist in a strong hold. The simple touch made her heart speed and she silently chastised herself for being so easily intrigued by his touches. He needed her to be calm and supportive right now, not another girl that threw herself at his feet. But the hand that was slowly moving up her back wasn't helping matters, only making them worse. The caress was too light to do anything but send shivers of joy and electricity through her body while tickling her simultaneously. His other hand had moved down, resting protectively on her hip, and she found herself wondering if he was still aware of his surroundings. Had he blanked out on her again and forgotten she was really there? Her conscience was telling her to pull away from him, because he didn't know what he was doing to her, but the rest of her protested. Even if he wasn't aware that she was who she was, he was aware of what he was doing, his fingers were playing lightly with her lower back and it had caused her to arch her back against him, to press her body into his. And when she tried to pull away, even the slightest, he pulled her back, lightly. So she closed her eyes and welcomed the new feelings without farther hesitation.

Warm, heated interest shot through him when her body pressed to his and he was shocked, apparently, not expecting the sensations that she stirred within him. So when she made a move to back away, he acted on instinct and pulled her closer, curious as to why the sudden spark had occurred. His curiosity led him to place a small kiss on the top of her head, a mournful expression of his sorrow and gratitude toward her for being there for him. Her head upturned as she looked into his eyes, suddenly very aware of the electricity and desire flowing through her entire body, through the entire room.

Her eyes were wide and he could see that she wasn't protesting to the contact at all. Her face looked so innocent, so trusting, that he almost felt guilty for what he did next, almost. His brain was nearly shut down by this point, or it was working too slow to keep up with his actions, and he lowered his head, breathing on the side of her face. Slow exhales that were an attempt to calm the heat racing through his system. He closed his eyes for a long second, as if he were in pain, and pressed his lips onto her cheek, lingering his skin on hers for a lengthy amount of time. He had expected the desire to leave him by now, for he wasn't out of his mind. He wasn't out of his boundaries, he knew where he was, he knew who he was with. When he pulled away her face turned, looking at him again, both of them amazed by the passion of the moment.

His head lowered again, his intent to kiss her nose in hopes that the sparks had gone away. But her body lifted up, her feet on tip toes, and her mouth softly pressed to his. He didn't move away, the way his brain was telling him to, as he realized the contact was taking place. Instead he pressed back lightly, the way one would dip a toe into water to test the temperature, still hoping that the feeling was gone. But as his lips met with hers, soft as he tried to make the contact be, a burning desire spread through him and he wanted nothing more than to pull her closer. To press her body against his and mold it until they melded together.

His hold on her grew tighter still, as his lips placed more force into the kiss, his mouth opening slightly, hesitantly leading her to follow. She felt his tongue trace the edges of her lower lip, up until it found the center - the meeting place - and glided skillfully across, silently asking her for entrance. Shivers ran through her and if she wanted to, she couldn't have kept her mouth closed against him. Her heart was fluttering far too fast and she couldn't stop herself. She didn't know why she was doing this, her head was telling her that he was envisioning her as someone else, but her body didn't care. She was willing to be anyone he wanted her to be, if she could get kisses like this all the time. She was surprised as his pleasantly warm tongue flowed into her mouth, gently gliding, exploring with curiosity.

He used his own tongue to draw hers into his mouth, and when he had it where he wanted it he began to suck gently, causing a moan of ecstasy to be spilled from her mouth and vibrate through them. He pushed her body backwards, onto his desk, her exhale of pleasure sending him over the edge. Making him loose any resolve he'd been building up until that moment.

If he were going to break away before, there was no way he could now. His hands struck out and items flew to the floor. Pencils rolled everywhere, bumping into the folders and offending the sticky notes. He paid no heed to any of it, only the heat rising in his body; passion he hadn't felt for months on end. He'd been dead for so long he forgot what his own heartbeat felt like. Now it pounded so fast, so loudly, he could scarcely think of anything else.

Her body arched against his again as she willingly fell to the desk. Trunks pulled her deeper into the kiss, fevered and frenzied because he couldn't get enough. He held onto the kiss, encouraging it until his jaws ached and he had to break apart. But, as his lips pulled away from her body, a stinging feeling flowed through him, as if he weren't complete without the contact. He felt void without her next to him, and just her being next to him wasn't enough. He feared it never would be again. He wanted her around him, he wanted her and now it was too late to fight it.

Another moan fell from her lips at the loss of the contact, but this one was out of protest, not pleasure. A frown pressed her lips but didn't last long, as his lips found the exposed skin of her neck. He kissed gently at first, making her close her eyes and dig her fingers into the fabric of his shirt, a needy desire overtaking her.

But soon his desire out-beat her own, and every time he lifted his head from her skin she could hear a soft exhale fall from his lips. He wasn't sure what it was, but he needed to taste more of her. Something pulled him to her and he ran his tongue over the base of her collar. Dende, she tasted like…apple cinnamon. Or was it French vanilla? He wasn't sure which, he hadn't even been aware that the two tastes could be mingled and misconstrued. No, one was a taste, the other was a smell; his senses were so fuzzy he couldn't tell the difference between the two.

His hands dropped slowly, teasingly down her sides and tickled the area beneath her naval. Then they ran up her sides again, just as slow, and he could feel her breathing escalade. Her leg crushed and curved around his to draw him closer and their bodies pressed tight - her hips ground into his, making him close his eyes in frustration. His hands traveled up a little more, moving to her breasts, rubbing softly, tickling, teasing, before his fingers found the first button of her shirt. He undid it slowly, and then the next, kissing each exposed piece of flesh. Sending his tongue out to devour what he'd decided upon as a French vanilla flavor of her.

She was completely lost in a different world, all thoughts of any wrong doing erased from her head. Nothing that felt this good could be wrong, after all. She heard her voice cry softly again, this time being accompanied by his exhale as the next button came undone. Her hands inched up to his hair, fingers massaging his scalp with matching intensity to the way his mouth loved her flesh. Pleasure lingered in him as he undid the next button and her shoulder shimmied out of the shirt. Each part of her upper body received the attention from his tongue, as he regarded her the way he would his favorite ice-cream cone. His fingers moved around her back and as he came in contact with the clasp to her bra he paused, anticipation and pleasure the only emotions running through him.

The phone rang, making both of them jump, and her body went completely rigid beneath his touch. The earth snapped back into place and everything hit them hard. This was wrong. They were best friends - not lovers. She was Pan, his friend Pan, and he was her 'older brother', Trunks. She vaguely became aware of the fact that she wasn't Marron, and he was probably hoping she would be when he opened his eyes. And now those blue eyes were lingering on her and she'd failed the test. She could see the disappointment lingering in them. The phone rang again. His hands descended from her body and he dared to look intently into her eyes. They were more dead than he had felt before she kissed him.

Her lips were shivering and he knew she was fighting back the tears. He felt worse than he had in his entire life. Complete scum, and mainly because, despite everything that he'd just discovered about how much this hurt her, he still wanted to press her back against his desk and devour her. He could still taste her on his lips and he still wanted to. The phone again. She jumped up and answered it.

"Hello?" He couldn't read her voice, it was cold and hurt at once from what he could tell. "Daddy!" He heard her say next, guilt and panic clear in her tone. Her hands moved awkwardly as she struggled to hold the phone and pull her shirt back on at the same time, as if he could somehow see her through the phone cord. Trunks closed his eyes, imagining all of the painful torture he would suffer should Gohan actually be a mind reader and discover all the incredibly compromising thoughts he were having about the girl at the moment. Or worse, if Gohan were to discover what just happened, how badly Trunks had just hurt her. He was already never going to forgive himself, he didn't need someone else to hover it over his head.

Pan had gotten her shirt on and was talking nervously to her father. "Nothing's wrong." She glanced sideways at Trunks, who had just regained his normal breathing, and then glanced to the ground - very guiltily. A series of 'uh-huh's' and 'yes daddy's' followed, as she nodded her head and tried to clear her flushed cheeks. Finally, "I understand, daddy. I'm on my way…huh?…yes, that easy…Okay, see you in a bit…yeah, love you too." She hung up the phone and turned around slowly, her eyes nervously dancing up to meet Trunks'.

"Listen, Pan-"

"Don't." She shook her head, not wanting to hear what he was going to say. Things were bad enough without him trying to explain. "It's my fault, right? You warned me that you weren't responsible for your actions in this state and I didn't listen. You get what you get, right?" Then she forced a smile onto her broken face and it made his heart ache. It snapped him back into the real world for the final time, made him realize that whatever he was going through wasn't half as bad as whatever she was about to go through. Even if his best friend was about to marry his only love. It made him want to cry, and want to kiss her all over again; it made him want to pull her into his arms and comfort her until she didn't need it anymore. Made him want to love her more than he'd ever wanted to love anybody in all his life. "Besides, I'm not exactly complaining about what I got." She winked, a coy smile overtaking the broken one as she turned around. He knew it was a front - a very attractive front, mind you - but a façade all the same. She was really falling apart, but she did a magnificent job of hiding it. Always had. He loved that about her more than anything else.

But at that moment he hated himself. He'd ruined things with her. They'd never be the same again. And he'd ruined her. He'd never see his Pan-pan again, he'd never see the happy girl she used to be, but the broken one that was a replica of the real thing. And he hated that the most. If he could change anything, he'd change that first.

"Daddy says he doesn't want us staying together, all alone. Doesn't trust our emotions enough to be comfortable with it." A dry laugh fell from her lips, and though her back was to him now, he knew she was fighting tears. "Humph, he was maybe…twenty minutes too late or twenty minutes too early. You pick. Anyway, I'm going home before things get worse."

He thought on it and, very abruptly, decided he couldn't choose. That thought scared him more than life. He didn't know which one he'd have preferred. Before they had done anything or after they had done everything? Twenty minutes earlier or twenty minutes later? And then he watched her walk out of his office, almost certain that he'd truly screwed things this time. He wasn't going to see her again, he was sure of it. She was out of his life for good and he was standing there debating a dumb question - too late or too early? Was it even relevant now?

A/n: are you laughing yet? Oh, not very funny at the end, is it? What, you thought I was going to have them get to together right then? As if that would have been appropriate. I do have some tack. Sorry if this chapter still leaves you in that 'I'm-really-sad-and-depressed-that-these-chapters-aren't-getting-any-lighter-in-mood' mood, maybe next chapter will be nicer. I didn't like the way I wrote this either, I thought it would be nicer, but as you guys have told me time after time, I'm my own worst critic. I don't know though, it was too rushed for me.


Anyway, from here on out it's totally T/P focused! ^-^ (well, with some side issues every now and then, but they all tie in. Hey, can't forget about Gabe, can we?). And sorry if the box Pan got is still itching in the back of your mind, you'll find out what's in it next chapter. I think I'll get to that, I should. Well, let me know what you think - and don't be too harsh (they were bound to do something with each other, see they were both grieving and…yeah. We all knew it wasn't going to turn out well…) - leave a review for me to smile at please ;-) I'll love you forever, I will ^.~