Memories Verbatim

Disclaimer: As usual, I DO NOT OWN DRAGONBALL/DRAGONBALL Z/DRAGONBALL GT I mean really, how many times do I have to post this before you get the hint?

Authoress Notes: This chapter I will try to make longer, and also, add more details. The next one that is in Pan's P.O.V, will be in later chapters, anyway, as always, read and review

My first day off she mused all the while brushing some hair from her eyes and not a single paycheck yet…. She was a skinny girl, who was into martial arts. She also had shoulder length black hair that sparkled as the sun shone on it. Her eyes are deep aqua pools that you could drown in and not regret it. Her smile that was so genuine, so beautiful, that you could almost feel them. She was the most beautiful girl in West City, but her job could tell you otherwise. How could someone so beautiful work for someone so rich and not married to him? This baffled many minds who dared to tread down that dark, spooky, narrow road of despair and regret.

Looking towards the door, she paused and thought about it. There really wasn't much to go back to at her apartment. All that was in the cluttered, three-room palace (to her) was a few stacks of books, with much hope to read, many notebooks, a sketchbook and pens, and dishware. As she thought about it, she realized exactly why she was working for the multi-millionaire inherent, Trunks Briefs. While he was living the high life at the peak of all riches, she was left on the lowest scale to watch and serve him. It was a sad life that she had to put up with to earn money. And if she weren't working for Trunks, she'd probably be scantily clad, on a street corner, charging money for a night of pleasure, and she knew for sure she'd never sink that low. Not when there were other options. Sighing she jiggled the handle, which caused the door to just open, since there were no "real" locks. The land-lady had thought it useless to have locks in such a "Crime-free" city. That was her grandfather for you, sporting everything that wasn't his.

Sorting through the mail, and finding nothing of intense interest, or urgent reply, she tossed it on the table, that was already covered in papers and sketches of her dream home. Looking through the door, she paused a moment, and walked over, slamming it shut. Being ignorant, it popped open again. She looked back and shook her head. I can't wait to get out of this place! She thought with amusement. She looked over at her answering machine that was clogged with messages. Well, in reality, 5. One from Kim, asking why she quit at the diner…another story for another day, Three from her parents, And One from Trunks. Finding nothing of extreme importance, she played the one from Trunks.

"Hello Pan. I know it's your day off, and I promise to pay you 10 percent extra for this, but an extremely urgent meeting has come up, and I can't come home until late tonight. I'm aware that you may have plans or things of the like, but I desperately need someone to watch her, and after what my father did, I won't ask him again. If you can baby-sit for me just call back, ok? Thank you for your time. My number is 555-9—" Which is where the message cut off. Well, she mused one can only talk so fast, and fit so much on a 40 second machine.

For the first time in about a year she giggled. Not just a short giggle, but a long one. Not only at her thought, but the fact that Trunks left his number, when she had millions of his business cards. She remembered it so vividly…so many years trying to get a job to work with him. Every age, every year…Then it happened. She landed her first job. Of course, she was a nanny, but she could work her way up. She was good with kids, and better with business. Especially forbidden business.

Sighing dreamily she went back to that one day when they had first met…

FLASHBACK

The halls were crowded beyond the capacity in the event of a fire. It was all so new to her. An urban girl in the big city. Ought to be a sitcom. She paused and blinked at the wild haired secretary headed her way. Young, mid 20's, angelic looking. Not Pan…

She knew she wasn't allowed in the halls of Capsule Corporation. Especially not in her case. It must have been nice to be young and wealthy before your 21st birthday. He had every element of the perfect fantasy. Beautiful wife, charming daughter, wealth, fame, big house, and everything else he ever wanted. But there was one thing he didn't have. He didn't have the ability to keep a wife. Unless the tabloids were a vicious rumor.

She closed her eyes, beginning to get a feel for the network of halls. Walking very fast, as though she DID know the halls, she ran straight into a wall of muscle and denim. She opened her eyes bleary, and oblivious to the scold she was getting. Picking up what dignity she had left, she looked the man in the eye. His eyes were a deep mossy green, but not like normal green eyes. It was as though there was a child inside, screaming for release. She knew that feeling. It must be sad to be so wealthy, and have to work as the head of a company every day. Especially when you were a child at heart.

She thought about that briefly. Something inside her begged her to speak, but before the words could formulate on her tongue, he said something. Being shattered from her perfect world, her box, she looked at him again and blinked.

"Are you deaf?" he asked rather angrily. "I believe I've asked you a question."

"I'm sorry sir." She mumbled. Her mother had taught her to keep her head up high, even if it meant to show your tears. "I'm not allowed in here, I know. I'm a low-life scum that daunts your floors. You don't need me around to ruin your pattern of everyday socialism, and business. I only wish to speak with someone who could direct me toward the president's room."

He thought about this a moment and looked at her again. "How old are you?"

"18," she answered. "But I'll be 19 next month."

"Why would you think you were a 'low-life scum' or however you put it?" he inquired menacingly.

"I'm not rich. I'm pretty poor. I live on my own, and I can't even afford text-books. I'm only here to answer your ad, but I'm sure you don't want me here to ruin your perfect image."

"Well," he answered gazing into her deep aqua eyes. Something gave him a premonition to trust her. It made him shiver from head to toe. "I don't see why I can't give it a shot."

"Thank you sir, I would love it if you could!" she exclaimed walking into a lavish room. It was large and covered mostly in mahogany. Adorning the walls were children's drawings, and pictures of Angelina. She knew Angelina because she'd been in the tabloids before. Until her dad threatened to sue whoever put her back for every penny they had.

"Have a seat." He said sitting down. Leaning half over the desk, and folding one hand over the other, he looked at her. She daintily laid one foot over the other, and smoothed out her skirt, then laid her hands on top of her lap gracefully. "Which ad are you here to answer?"

"The one for a new secretary, or possibly baby-sitting, I'm a bit young to be a secretary." She pondered on for a moment before he answered.

"What is your name?" he aske pulling out a small legal pad, and a pen. Watching her unfold her legs and fold them again, oppositly, she answered him.

"Pan." She though a moment to weather she should continue. "Pan Son."

"Pan Son, welcome to the team!" He said shaking her hand and leaning back to his chair. "I presume you want to discuss a payment of some type?"

"Oh, yes! Yes I would. I won't ask for too much, sir, I promise!"

"First off, don't refer to me as 'Sir'. It makes me feel old. Second off, I believe you. What would you say 200 Zeni a day?"

"Oh, that would be wonderful, thank you!" she said pulling out a notebook and scribbling down her address and phone number. "I assume you'll need to contact me."

"That would be good." He whispered watching her retreat. For the first time since he'd seen her, he noticed her hair was black, not brown. But black.

END FLASHBACK

Such great memories swept through her sorrow, and pain. So many brightening little facts and tidbits that helped her seem like life was ok. But life wasn't ok. It never would be. There was one thing missing. She was 19, a high school dropout, couldn't keep a job to save her life, and had no boyfriend. But yet she was the most sought-after girl at Preston All Girls' Academy. Regret washed over her at full force when she remembered the promise she made to her father, before she left…father, I'll finish school. I'll make you proud. I'll make our name known.

But she was young and stupid. Things changed since then. She paused a moment, and picked up the phone. Dialing the number quickly, she listened to the high-pitched ring. "Hello, You've Reached the Briefs Residence! Leave A Message at the Tone!" said a zealous voice. Presumably Angel, or possibly Amy, Angel's mother.

"Hey, Trunks." She said over-confident. "I'll bet there as soon as I can. This is Pan, signing out." She said hanging up the phone. Tomorrow would definetly prove interesting. She'd finally get to know about Angel. And not just that she was a little girl who lived at the estate! This would be wonderful!

AUTHORESS NOTE

In the next episode we get to see what is known as "Dress Up/Imaginary Tea Party" which was a game that me any my girlfriends conjured on a hot summer day when we were 5,6,and 8. It's pretty obvious as to what you do.

I hope you enjoyed this chapter of "Proverbial Head Over Heals" and as always, read and review. This is Kaity, Signing out. Peace!

PREVIEW OF THE NEXT CHAPTER

Pan blinked a moment. She was new to childrens games. After all, she hadn't been one for almost 10 years! And she had no siblings, or kids of her own, so it was all washing back to here in one intense wave, in which she forgot a surfboard, so she'd have to wing it.

At that moment she realized ever so quickly that something was missing. She couldn't quite place what, but something was definetly odd. Maybe it was just her imagination…or maybe it wasn't. Was there someone in the doorway?