A/N: You may notice that I spell 'color' as 'colour'. No, this is not a typo-I'm Australian, and we spell 'color' as 'colour' in Australia.

By the way, Zara's REAL name is Madeline Rose White as said in the first chapter. She just changed it while at school

(o)

We pulled up in front of a giant white mansion, surrounded with a large barred gold gate and white wall that hid the garden and the base of the house from view. The top story (the fourth floor, as Zara had told me) was just visible over the wall's surface, and palm trees sprouting and growing above the wall's limits as well.

Trunks pulled the car over in the street and turned in his seat to face me. "I'll wait here. Sorry, but I have several bad memories of my last visit to this house, and I hope you can understand that I don't want to go in again."

"Sure." I laughed. "See you in a minute."

I lowered myself out of Trunks' car and hurried to the gate, unable to see how on earth I was going to get inside. Eventually, I spied an intercom attached to the wall and pressed the button, speaking into it.

"Hey, my name's Pan Son. I'm Zara's friend." I explained. "We were going to meet at the mall today, but I decided to pick her up instead."

"One moment, please, Miss Son." A male voice cackled in reply. The gates opened automatically, and I gaped when I saw the elaborate garden that lay on the other side. It had been designed to look like a island paradise, with small shrubs, tall palm trees and water features littering the large grounds. A long drive ran up to the main house, where a large fountain stood in the center of a round-a-bout, spilling water from the mouth of a fish at the top.

By the time I made it as far as the fountain, Zara had arrived at the front step of her house, dressed (as always) in all black and with a wide smile spread across her face. She met me at the fountain, grabbed my hand and yanked me back down the path.

"Hey, I want to see your house!" I wailed.

"No, you don't." Zara replied bitterly. "No one wants to go in there unless it's perfectly necessary."

"Say no more." I frowned, remembering the stories Zara had told me of her family at school. I allowed her to pull me to Trunks' car.

"Whoa!" Zara cried when she saw the car waiting for us out the front of her house. "Don't tell me that Briefs gave you that car for the holidays, Pan."

"Unfortunately, no. I couldn't drive it anyway." I reasoned. "It belongs to Trunks. He said he'd drive us anywhere we want to go today."

"No kidding!" Zara exclaimed. "Trunks Briefs, huh? What's he like, anyway?"

"You're about to find out." I grinned, pushing her towards the car and into the backseat. I climbed in behind her, slamming the door shut.

"Hey." Trunks greeted, holding a hand up to Zara and watching us through the review mirror. "I'm Trunks."

"Z-Z-Z-Zara." Zara stuttered, the colour drained from her face. She stared at him, transfixed, unable to tear her eyes from him. I sighed exhaustedly. I would never have expected Zara, of all people, to act this way.

"Nice to meet you." Trunks nodded, revving up the engine. "So where to, ladies?"

"Anywhere." Zara squeaked weakly. I shook my head in distaste.

"Take us somewhere fun, Trunks." I ordered. "Like a skate park or something."

"There's a skating rink somewhere near here." Trunks replied, switching the radio off so he could talk to us. "That sound ok?"

"Sounds fine." I shrugged. Obviously there was no point in consulting Zara, who was mouthing wordlessly and still staring at Trunks as if he would disappear if she moved her eyes away from him.

(o)

The skating rink was much better than I had expected it to be. There wasn't a prissy or irritating girl in sight. In fact, Zara and I were the only girls in the entire complex. Trunks rented us each a pair of roller blades and helped Zara strap hers on because her hands were far to weak to do it herself.

"Ok, let's go." Trunks said with a smile. Nodding, I got to my feet and skated after him. Zara sat where she was, trembling.

"Haven't you skated before?" Trunks questioned. I smacked my forehead in irritation.

"Yes she has." I said in annoyance. "Come on, Zara. Get up."

Obediently, Zara got to her feet and managed to hold her balance. Together, we made our way out onto the skating rink, Zara clinging to the wall for support. I thought I was going to be sick.

Trunks took my hand. I hadn't expected him to do it, so I nearly fell over myself when he did. He smiled, stabilizing me as he began to glide away from the wall. I clung to his hand, using my free hand to tug Zara after us.

We circled the rink several times until our feet became accustomed to the blades. When we reached the entrance to the rink for the umpteenth time, Trunks let my hand go and rounded to face me, a smirk playing on his face.

"What would you say to a race?"

"I'd say let's go." I grinned in reply, letting go of Zara's hand. She immediately clutched onto the wall.

"Is your friend ok?" Trunks questioned worriedly in my ear. His breath tickled my skin and reluctantly sent a shiver running down my spine.

"Zara's fine." I said. "Just a little lovesick."

"Oh." Trunks said understandingly. "Believe it or not, but I get that a lot."

"Oh I believe it." I said, without really considering what this meant. I added quickly, "From what I've seen, of course."

"Come on." Trunks pulled me forward. "Let's go."

We sped around a group so slow skaters, rounding each corner neatly. Trunks glided, almost flying, across the rink with a unique beauty only he seemed to possess. The blank tank top and loose fitting jeans he wore fluttered in the breeze he created as he moved. I smiled into his back, hardly registering the fact that I was only inches away from him. We collided, and fell to the floor in a laughing heap.

"You ok?" Trunks asked, pulling me back to my feet. I slipped again, and fell over again, pulling him with me. "Shit, you're terrible at this."

"Speak for yourself." I lied. "You suck!"

"Hey, I've been doing this a lot longer than you have, Miss Son." He retorted. "And you're the one who made me fall over anyway."

"You still fell over." I argued. "Oh come on, let's get some food."

(o)

Trunks drove us to a café and the three of us sat down at a table together. I became conscious of a few blonde haired girls sitting at a table a short way away from us, giggling and whispering through their hands, pointing in Trunks' direction. I felt my heart catch in my throat, and my hands clench into fists, but held myself in my seat, not entirely sure why I was acting this way myself.

There were others staring at us as well, but for different reasons. They must have noticed the age difference between Trunks, Zara and I. What made things worse was my height, causing me to appear half my age. Luckily, the café was mainly filled with young people, who couldn't have cared less if Trunks appeared to be dating two teenagers.

After we ate a silent meal in which Trunks and I tried to stop ourselves from drawing even more attention to each other and Zara swooned over the man sitting opposite her, only really picking at her food, Trunks paid for the food and we all piled back into his car.

"Why don't we go to the beach or something now?" Trunks suggested. "I know that no one is really prepared for a swim, but it's still nice to walk there. It'll be really nice when the sun sets as well."

"Why not?" I shrugged. "Nothing better to do."

Trunks was right. The beach was incredibly beautiful. The water was crystal clear, the sand a golden yellow and the sky was a perfect powder blue...exactly the colour of Trunks' eyes...

We walked along the edge of the water, dabbling our bare feet in the water and carrying our shoes in our hands. Trunks walked in the middle of us, bumping against me every now and then accidentally. My body automatically tensed at his soft touch, but I found myself unable to move away from him. Cursing myself for sounding like a lovesick teenager, I pushed back my fringe and savored the feeling of the salty air on my pale skin.

"Summer's beautiful, isn't it?" Trunks asked openly as the sun began to set, and we turned to make our way back to his car.

"Sure is." I answered quietly, just as a young boy ran past me, piles of sand clenched in his tiny fists. "If only life could be as beautiful as the season."

"Oh Pan, I'm sorry." Trunks apologized quickly. "I didn't mean to-"

"You didn't do anything intentionally." I smiled weakly. "Let it go."

I walked back to the car with thoughts of Elijah circling my head.

(o)

"My God!" Zara shouted to me over the phone later that night. "Trunks is hot!"

"I gathered you thought so from the way you acted around him all day." I answered dryly. "Really, Zara, you need to get a grip on yourself!"

"Do you think I'd have a chance with him?" She wondered, awe mixed into her voice.

"He's 29 years old!" I protested. "Besides, I don't think he's really your type."

"Of course he's my type. He's perfect!" Zara argued. "Perhaps there's hope for our generation after all. He actually gives me something to live for. So, can we do the same thing again tomorrow?"

"I doubt it." I sighed. "Trunks can't afford to miss anymore days at work. I overheard Bulma telling him off after dinner tonight. He's in deep shit because he's been missing so much work recently. I don't really think he likes his job."

"What does he do?" Zara inquired.

"Something for his mother's company, I think." I said absent mindedly. "I don't know what exactly."

"That's boring!" Zara complained. "No wonder he hates his job."

"Still think he's your type?" I sniggered.

"Hell yes!" Zara cried. "Only problem is that he seems to have become a slave to the system. But I can fix him up, no problem."

"I don't think he wants to be fixed up."

Zara chose to ignore this comment. "So can you somehow arrange for the three of us to hang out again? Or even better, just Trunks and I?"

"I'll ask him what he thinks about you." I sighed. "Want to see a movie tomorrow or something."

"Can't." Zara said bitterly. "My parents are making me study. But I might be able to sneak out later. I'll come around later if I can, alright?"

"Sure." I grinned. "See you later."

"Bye."

I hung up the phone and switched on the computer, brining up pointless internet sites until an idea popped into my head. I brought up a search engine and typed in: "Cures to incurable diseases found only in childhood."

No results.

Sighing, I flipped off the computer, took a pillow and blanket off the bed and carried it into the closet. I found a wall that seemed stable enough to hold my weight, made myself a small bed and lay down, falling into the best sleep I'd had since my arrival at Capsule corp.