Okay. Here we are. Or rather, here I am. Ready to uh, edit. Sigh. Read and enjoy.

Chapter 8

The atmosphere in the small café was cozy and quiet. The only patrons present besides Trunks and Pan were a spindly glasses-wearing kid with his head in a book and an old janitorial worker staring into his coffee as if it held the meaning of life.

Pan rested her arms lightly on the smooth tabletop before her, inhaling deeply to fully experience her surroundings. She let her breath out in a happy whoosh. "It's great here. Nice and quiet, and homey-ish. If that makes any sense."

"No, I agree entirely. My house had this feel to it. That's why I always come here. It's a comforting reminder." Trunks, opposite Pan at the tiny booth, leaned his head back, resting it in his arms. He smiled and gazed around, taking in the various old photos of country scenes and groups of smiling people. The overhead lights were shaded, allowing the two student's eyes to rest a little bit.

Pan and Trunks simply sat there for a while, waiting for the waitress in content silence, basking in each other's presence. Pan, for all her exterior calm, was asking herself multiple questions about why Trunks seemed so nice to her when his sister had so ardently warned her to be wary of him. Trunks was thinking, too. He was thinking about how much he wanted to get to know this intriguing girl. He hadn't given her credit in the mess hall; her eyes were so deep and endless, he could drown in them and be happy doing so.

The waiter arrived, breaking the two from their respective thought patterns.

"What would you like?" the nice-looking woman queried, her mouth turning up at the sight of such a sweet couple.

"Uh…we would both like some hot chocolate, I think." Trunks looked at Pan for verification. She nodded, grinning.

"Sure thing. Is that it?" They nodded in unison. "Alrighty. Two hot chocolates comin' right up."

Silence again took reign, but Pan had forfeited her tumultuous thinking to better observe her companion. She did so discreetly, not desiring to invoke his discomfort. She leaned her chin on her forearm and kept glancing in his direction. If Trunks showed signs of looking at her, she'd quickly move her eyes to a picture behind him. The system worked rather well. She liked what she saw.

Trunks was doing the same thing, more or less, until he caught sight of something far less pleasing to the eye. Keebler and Company. They strutted into the domicile, carrying the same disdain with them as always, and looking around for something. For him. He almost groaned in frustration. Was he ever safe from them?

Nabisco spotted him and alerted Keebler. They stalked over to Trunks.

"Hey, buddy. How you doing? Can we speak to ya fer a sec?" Keebler pulled Trunks up sharply and dragged him away from Pan. She simply raised an eyebrow. Keebler began speaking fiercely, keeping his voice low and menacing, gripping the lapel of Trunks' uniform.

"Why'd you run away from us, Trunks? We were all gonna have a great spar, and you left us in the middle of the hallway. You see, we's not used to being dropped like a sack of oats. You'd better find a way to explain yerself, er you'll be the one being dropped. Then yer dad won't be very happy, will he? Cuz we have stuff we can tell him about you. Lots of stuff. Stuff that could mean a suspension."

"I've never done anything that could breed any hint of a reason for a suspension, and you know it, Keebler," Trunks growled. He could be menacing, too.

"Maybe not, but who do you think your dad'll believe? Us, wealthy high-class guys with connections, or you?" Trunks laughed bitterly. He was Vegeta's own son, and yet the accusation was too true. Vegeta trusted these morons more than him. Their threat was very real. Trunks wondered how long it had taken them to come up with such a scheme.

"You look a little beat. Perhaps you changed yer ways. But we have to see yer loyalty in action. If you prove yerself, den maybe we'll reconsider tellin' yer dad."

"What exactly are you suggesting I do to prove myself?" Keebler grinned evilly.

"Well, everyone knows you shouldn't be associating with an Argonaut. All you have to do is turn her off, you know, put her down and such, and you're safe. Got it?" Trunks narrowed his eyes. He liked Pan. He didn't want to hurt her. But he had to.

Trunks nodded grudgingly and slowly walked back towards the booth. Keebler etc. sat down at a nearby table to observe the impending entertainment. Trunks stopped next to the booth, looking down at Pan. &Be Vegeta! Be Vegeta!&

"Pan, I just wanted to say that I don't want to see you anymore." Pan smirked.

"Why not?" She crossed her arms and waited, not realizing Trunks' intent.

"I have finally noticed your character flaws. My friends have informed me that…"

"What, I'm really a gorgeous model in disguise?" She grinned.

"No." Trunks almost laughed, but stopped himself and put on his best Vegeta frown. "You are an Argonaut."

"And that effects things because…"

"Because you're an Argonaut! You and I don't mix! Can't you see?"

"I see nothing. Why does it make any difference to you that I spent some time on the Argo?" She stood up, finally heated at his accusations.

"Because it does! Just accept it!" He looked at her angrily, all the while yelling inside that he was sorry. So sorry.

"Is there anything besides the fact that I am an 'Argonaut,'" she said, spitting the word out with contempt, "that makes you believe I am not worth your time?" She folded her arms and waited. He started.

"No." He sneered. "There need not be."

"Well then, I don't accept your explanation."

"Excuse me?" Trunks' eyes widened slightly.

"I don't accept it. You obviously have some other reason to suddenly turn me away, and I don't think it has anything to do with my origins or what ships I've been on. So until you give me a logical reason, I will continue being your friend, and there's nothing you can do about it. Goodnight, I had a wonderful time, and I'll see you tomorrow at lunch." She nodded, satisfied that she had said all that she needed to say, and swept away, leaving a very flustered and surprised (but inwardly bemused) Trunks behind. She eyed Keebler and company suspiciously, and when they turned their disdainful glances towards her, she snorted out loud, smiling inwardly when their faces flickered into outrage.

As the door closed behind her, Nabisco spoke up. "How dare she! She shall feel the wrath of the elite class students in full for her direct misconduct!" At least, that's what he would have said had he actually had some semblance of a cognitive brain. What he really said was: "Hey!" and he turned to Keebler for advice.

Truly, Keebler had been increasing his mental output ever since he had gone to school, and now he was the equal of a Walligford Terrier on a bad day. He knew exactly what to do to get his revenge on both Trunks and Pan at the same time.

"Trunks, you know the Argonaut the best out of all of us, right?" Trunks nodded, still dumbfounded at Pan's reaction. "What is her greatest ambition right now? What does she spend all her time doing? What is her dream?" Trunks glared at him, hate filling his intense eyes. Not this. Anything but this.

"Not gonna answer? That's alright. I know anyway. And what's the best way to stop someone from achieving this goal? I have an inkling you know, Trunks. And by tomorrow, you will carry out the plan that I am formulating right now, or you can kiss your future career goodbye."

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Trunks entered the mess hall with a heavy heart, hoping beyond hope that Pan wouldn't be there. He trudged through the masses, hearing conversations around him, but not really listening.

"Hey, Trunks! Have you finally found out why you hate me?" He turned to see Pan's smiling face before him. "Bring it on, then. I'm prepared. What's my major character flaw?"

Trunks sighed inwardly. He hated this. He had to do it, though. He brought his hand back and sent it flying towards her face. She caught it easily; he hadn't tried very hard. He felt the gang's eyes on his back and reeled his other hand back for a punch. A real one. She glared at him. "What exactly is this a—" The punch connected directly with her lower jaw, sending her reeling backwards. She drove her foot back, halting her fall, and stood straight, wiping blood from the corner of her mouth.

"You're really serious, aren't you? Trunks?" He said nothing, but mechanically launched himself at her, catching her in the middle and sending her down hard. She stood, finally believing the lie. "I guess I should have listened to your sister. Are you so prejudiced that you would physically harm me just because I was on some dumb ship?" She was stricken. Trunks screamed inside. The authorities were surely coming now. Everyone was watching them. Just as the mess hall doors slid open, the final stage of the plan was carried out. Trunks made a final advance in such a way that Pan was forced to retaliate or suffer a shocking blow. She did so, using all her anger at his stupidity and pride to send an uppercut into his chin.

"Just what do you think you're doing, young woman?" Pan turned from her companion, her clouded vision clearing, to see one of the law enforcement authorities bearing down on her, his arms crossed and his face parental.

She straightened, surprised, dreading what was imminent. Yet she had done nothing wrong, had she?

"Come with me, please. You too, Trunks." He nodded and the two walked out, followed by the officer. Trunks looked over at Pan. He could see she was slowly realizing what was about to happen to her. Her eyes were wide in fear, and then they narrowed suddenly. She turned to Trunks.

"You did this. You planned it all out didn't you? You knew that they would suspend me! You knew that I would be stopped from participation in the tournament! Why?" Her voice wavered. She clenched her fists. Trunks simply waited and said nothing. He was powerless.

"I wish I could've seen it sooner. I'm such a fool! Why would an elite member ever show me true friendship?" She ended her barrage with a twist of her mouth. She did not look at him again as they walked to the brig office.

Once there, Pan was ushered into a small room furnished simply with a desk and two chairs opposite each other. Pan sat down in one, and the door was closed behind her. She lay her head on her arms. &I will not cry. I will not cry. I will not cry!&

Trunks was taken to a comfortable area and was seated in a plush chair.

"I don't think you have to worry, Trunks. By the accounts of the witnesses who spoke up, she attacked you. It wasn't your fault. You'll be out within the hour." What could Trunks do?

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"Miss Son, do you realize that physically attacking a fellow student with the intent of harm is considered a serious offense at the Academy?" The beady-eyed shrewish lawyer paused his act of sifting through important papers to look at her inquisitively. His glasses reflected the overhead light and glared into Pan's eyes. She squinted and grimaced. This was getting more and more like an interrogation of the enemy.

"I have heard it said so before, sir." The lawyer ejaculated a quick 'ahuh' and wrote something on one of the papers. She strained to see it, but the lawyer pulled the papers away grumpily.

"So you should have. And are you aware of the consequences called for by Academy protocol?" He yawned loudly, covering his wide mouth lightly. Pan yawned, too. Hey, yawns are contagious.

"I am. Suspension until further notice. But it wasn't entirely my fault! If you'd just listen…"

"I am not here to listen to your complaints. They may be made at the end of the week to the superintendent here."

"But the tournament will be over by then! This isn't fair and you know it!"

"I suggest you calm yourself, Miss Son, or you will find yourself charged with verbally abusing a superior officer. Thank you for your cooperation. You are hereby confined to your quarters. The security officer will accompany you." Pan shut her mouth tightly and did as the stupid man instructed. She had been working towards the tournament for months! She was qualified! She could beat most of the guys out there! Trunks was gonna die for this!

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Trunks sat in his room, head in hands. He had ruined her dream. &But there must be something I can do! Keebler is a moron! He isn't perceptive. I should be able to run one by him without him noticing. I have to do something! But what?&

into his head.

"Bra, you have to help me!" He grabbed her arm and pulled her into the kitchen before she could let out a yelp. Pan would not be suspended for much longer if Trunks had anything to do with it.

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Gasp. So terrible. You'd better review and make everything okay. Behehe my powers of persuasion amaze even me…on to ch9!