A/N: I don't own any songs by Enigma

(o)

I hardly slept at all last night. Partly because I had already slept too much during the day and was no longer tired, and partly because I was afraid to.

The one time I had fallen asleep, I'd had a dream about Elijah. He was sitting in a tiny room in the very corner, crying. Everything was dark....there were no windows in the room at all. He saw me, and reached out for me....begging me to save him....to help him....I couldn't....I wanted to, but I couldn't....I couldn't touch 't reach him...

I awoke with a start, sweat dripping down my back and drenching my hair. I had scrambled out of bed, showered again and then changed into jeans and an old shirt. I'd called Zara, but she didn't answer her phone, meaning that she must have been out. Instead, I sat in front of Bra's old computer and scanned the internet out of pure boredom until I heard my stomach rumble and decided to get some food.

Unfortunately, I hadn't paid the slightest attention to where I was going when Trunks had shown me to the kitchen. I stumbled around in the darkness for a while, only becoming more and more lost until a door sprung open and something banged into me in the dark. I held in a shrill scream that threatened to escape, rounding on whatever it was and punched it.

"Ow!" Cried a soft, male voice. I swore under my breath- how could I hurt the same person twice in one day unintentionally? Now Trunks probably thought I had something against him...

"Sorry, I didn't see you there." I said apologetically.

"It's alright, Pan-Chan." Trunks smiled through the darkness. "Where are you off to?"

"Kitchen." I replied. "Bulma's steak and kidney pie really isn't that appetizing."

I got my wish. Trunks laughed again, not bothering to stifle it since our rooms were so far away from Bulma and Vegeta's, the only other two people in the huge house.

"I agree." He chuckled. "Why don't we get some real food?"

I allowed him to lead me to the kitchen, his outline the only thing guiding me through the darkness. Eventually, we came to the kitchen and he flicked on the lights, illuminating the kitchen. I blinked, my eyes adjusting to the light until I felt my cheeks redden when I saw Trunks raiding the fridge in just a white vest and powder blue boxers. He didn't seem to be bothered by his lack of clothing, and I supposed he'd worn just as much around me before. But even so, I felt my cheeks reddening and turned away from him hurriedly. I usually slept in a shirt and my underwear. Thankfully, I had bothered to change.

"Here we go." He said triumphantly, dumping a bunch of ingredients on the kitchen counter. "Would you object to pancakes, Pan-Chan?"

"I was named after pancakes." I said, scrambling onto a stool and resting my elbows on the counter in front of me, using my hands to support my head. "My mum had a craving for them when she was pregnant with me, so she named me Pan."

"Oh I see!" Trunks said through a laugh. "I always wondered where your name came from, Pan."

"Well now you know." I grinned as he began to pour the ingredients into a bowl and stirred it. "Hey, what about your name? Where did that come from?"

"Well, my last name is Briefs." Trunks turned to face me, leaning against the counter as he stirred. "My mother's first name is Bulma, and my sister's first name is Bra. Put two and two together and you'll have your answer."

It took me a few moments to decipher is cryptic sentences before I realized that he was named after underwear. I decided it would be more polite not to make any comments. Growing up with a name like Trunks Briefs mustn't have been a walk in the park and he was probably sensitive about it.

"Why are you up?" I asked, remembering that he had not intentionally been making his way to the kitchen.

"Oh, I just couldn't sleep, got bored and decided to go for a walk when I ran into you." He smiled, dumping the pancake mix into a frying pan and holding it over a hotplate. "It's not unusual for me. I always wake up around this time."

"You always wake up around 4:00am?" I glanced at the clock on the oven. "Man, and I thought I had problems."

Trunks laughed yet again, much to my delight. He tossed the cooked pancakes onto two separate plates and served one to me, sliding butter and maple syrup across the table and dragging a stool around the bench so he could sit opposite me. We ate in silence, too busy stuffing our faces to make conversation. I found it ironic that Trunks' pancakes were fluffy and soft, just like everything else to do with him.

"So." He said once we'd both finished and he collected my empty plate. "Better than steak and kidney pie?"

"Much better." I complimented. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it." He paused, scrubbing the plates in the sink before placing them into the dishwasher. Once he'd finished, he met me squarely in the eyes and spoke sternly, but still managing to keep his voice soft. "Hey, what are you doing tomorrow?"

"Spending the whole day with a friend, why?" I raised an eyebrow in question.

"No reason." Trunks' cheeks flushed a light shade of pink. "What are you and your friend going to do?"

"I don't know." I said truthfully. "We just wanted something to do, so we decided to meet at the mall at nine."

"You don't seem the sort of person who'd like shopping." Trunks grinned, causing me to pull a face.

"I don't. We just thought it would be a good meeting place."

"How are you getting there?" The question seemed odd in my opinion, but I answered nevertheless.

"I'll walk, I guess. Or I'll take public transport."

"Why don't I drive you?" He suggested. "I could take you and your friend all around Capsule City, if you want. I know the place like the back of my hand."

"No, I couldn't ask you to do that." I protested, although sitting in Trunks Brief's car didn't really sound like a bad idea. And it was better than getting a bus. But it still wasn't practical or polite of me to ask that of him. "Don't you have work tomorrow?"

"That's the beauty of it, you see?" Trunks grinned devilishly, in a way that would have made his father proud. "If I tell my mum that I'm showing you around the city, then she won't object to me missing a day of work. So it's a win, win situation. What do you say?"

I grinned in reply. He really didn't like that job of his, did he? "All right. I think I'm going to turn in, see you tomorrow then, I suppose."

"Goodnight, Pan-Chan!" He called as I reached the door to the kitchen.

I froze, glancing over my shoulder to see him sitting innocently on one of the stools. "You can call me Pan if you want. I wouldn't mind."

The voice that came from my mouth wasn't my own. It was shyer, softer and calmer. For a moment, I didn't even recognize myself. But Trunks seemed to like this tone of voice much more (that or my suggestion) because his entire face lit up in a blazing smile.

"Then Pan it is."

(o)

Trunks wrapped on my door at eight thirty the following morning. It seemed that he'd learnt his lesson and decided it would be best to knock before opening my door. I wrenched it open, putting a wide smile on my face to mirror his.

"Ready to go?" He asked, and I nodded in reply. "Great, let's go."

Trunks' car was waiting patiently out on the street outside Capsule corp. I stared at it in awe, having never imagined that such a vehicle existed. I wasn't completely blocked off from the rich community because my grandfather happened to be a famous fraud, taking credit for my father's deeds. But Hercule Satan's chauffeured limo was nothing compared to Trunks' self driven car. It was deepest black, as glossy as a polished grapefruit and shimmering as the sunlight danced across its smooth surface. The metal was so well polished that I could see my own reflection blinking back at me from the bonnet.

"Like it?" Trunks inquired, although the answer to his question should have been obvious judging by the expression on my face. "I thought you would. It's my favorite car too."

"You have more than one?" I asked in disbelief. Trunks nodded, opening the door to the passenger's side and standing back to let me inside.

"You don't need to be so formal." I scowled. "I'm not so helpless that I can't open a door myself."

"Sorry." Trunks apologized. "But in all truthfulness, you're the first woman I've ever had in this car, besides my mother and my sister."

I was? This came as a shock to me. I would have thought that a man like Trunks would have no problem finding himself a girlfriend. Perhaps he was like me, and simply didn't want to find himself a partner. Frankly, I couldn't blame him. My mother had once been the strongest human woman in the world, but look what happened to her when she got married? She turned into a housewife! This was why I never wanted to find someone....I didn't want to become soft.

But Trunks was naturally soft....

"Ok." Trunks said, climbing into the driver's seat and slamming the door shut as I became accustomed to the leather interior of the car. "Where to?"

"Zara's place." I instructed, suddenly remembering that I had no idea where that was. "Err...the White family's place?"

"The White family?" Trunks pulled a face. "You're actually friends to them?"

"Only their daughter." I defended. "But she isn't anything like them. Is everyone in this city interrelated or something? You and Bulma seem to know everyone."

"Only the rich families." Trunks replied. "I know, sad isn't it?"

He didn't give me a chance to reply, because the second he turned the engine on, music began to scream from his car radio. He flicked it off immediately, his cheeks burning red.

"Sorry about that, Pan." He apologized.

"I didn't know you liked Enigma." I mused.

"Only when I drive." Trunks mumbled, steering the car out onto the road and around a corner.

"You're not the only one." I replied. "Turn it back on if you want."

Smiling shyly, Trunks flicked the radio back on and cruised down the streets of Capsule City. He swerved around a corner and glided down several streets effortlessly, proving that he had been driving for quite a long time. I smiled- even his driving style was soft.

"This is going to come out rude." I said randomly. "But how old are you?"

"Not rude at all." Trunks replied, keeping his eyes on the road. "I'm a pretty open person, so you can ask me anything you like, Pan. I'm 29."

That old? I hadn't expected that! But when I considered that he was best friends with my uncle, who had to be at least 28, it made sense. Somehow, my heart seemed to sink when I heard this piece of information for reasons unknown to me, and I was reluctant to continue the conversation.

"That's quite a difference." I said, sadness entwined into my words without me even meaning it to. "Between us, I mean."

Trunks sighed, replying just as sadly, perhaps even more so. "Sure is."