Half-Crazy
Forgetting and Remembering too
Rated for language/situations
WitchyPrincess

Seeing Pan became a thing of the past the closer it got to Spring Break, but Trunks was used to her disappearing around this time. She was busy with mid-term test making and grading and he wasn't surprised when she didn't show up for most of their game nights. That didn't mean, though, that he wasn't upset. More so, in fact, than usual. The fluttering feeling, at least, had not returned since the amusement park fiasco, so at least him having feelings for her wasn't a possibility.

But they had been spending more time with each other than ever before, so her absence seemed more severe than it actually was because of it. Of course, he had a lot of work to make up for it so he could hardly complain of being bored. His office desk was always piled with another paper, another assignment, another client's paperwork. His secretary was always reminding him of another meeting, another decision, another appointment. That was probably another reason why he missed Pan's distracting presence. She kept his mind off all the demands of everything else.

Goten would be the best option for a distraction, naturally, but he was a married, working man and hardly had time. Pan only had to teach classes two days a week, while Goten went to work all five workdays of the week. Trunks went in at least four days out of six, of course, but he owned the company and hated his job so he tried to make his presence as limited as possible. His vice-president usually handled everything he wasn't there to do on those other two days–they were closed on Sundays.

He wasn't at work now, however, and today was the first day of Spring Break. Maybe Pan would step out of her coffin long enough to see the sun today. He laughed softly at his own joke, knowing it wasn't really funny, and flipped the T.V. in his room on. It wasn't long before he heard his front door swing open and closed and footsteps pounding on his stairs.

He knew who it was because she was the only one with her own key to his house.

"Hey, Wonx, miss me?" She struck a pose in doorway, throwing her hair behind her shoulders dramatically.

"The world might miss you if you ever call me Wonx again." He informed her, laughter in his eyes despite himself. It was what she called him as a toddler because she couldn't say 'Trunks' properly.

"I'll take that as a 'yes'." Her smile could have taken a gay man's breath away. Or maybe he was just telling himself that to justify the reason his heart skipped a beat when she shot it in his direction.

"So you finally decided to visit the world of the living." He teased as he sat up on the couch, making room for her. She laid down across it anyway, so he didn't know why he bothered, and threw her legs into his lap like she always did.

"I've got all the mid-terms done now."

"Finished, professor. You have all your mid-term grades finished now." Trunks mocked. She play slapped him on the arm and rolled her eyes.

"Why didn't you order pizza?"

"I didn't think you were coming."

"Liar." She pouted. "You knew I was coming. Don't pretend."

"I didn't. And it was your turn to pay for it so I didn't want to waste my money if you weren't going to be here." He fought very hard not to laugh.

"You are the cheapest billionaire I've ever met in my entire life, Briefs."

"Ouch, Pan, that hurts."

She scoffed. "Yeah right. Like you have emotions."

"Actually, I was talking about your shoes, they're digging into my thigh." He laughed as she jammed her foot harder into his leg, gripping her ankles in self-defense and ripping her tennis shoes off.

"Now go get the door." He commanded after wrestling her shoes off her feet. The doorbell rang right after he spoke the words. "And I hope you brought money 'cause it really is your turn to pay."

"Yeah, well, I didn't. So there better be money sitting on the dining room table."

He didn't bother to respond because she knew there would be. There always was; she always forgot to bring money when it was her turn to pay. That was one of the things that he could depend on about her. More often than not, she remained consistent in her routine and sometimes he was sure that she was the only thing that kept him grounded.

"This one's got pineapples on it. I think I might be in love with you. Marry me and have six of my children, why don't you?" Her mouth was already half full of pizza as she made her way back into his room, with her hands just as full.

"Five, only if we can sell three of them to the glue factory, and you've got yourself a deal." He smirked, stealing the boxes from her hands. He sat the pineapple pizza aside because he thought it was the most disgusting thing he had ever heard of, but he knew she loved it.

"Only two in the glue factory." She argued, throwing herself back on the couch and resting her back against his shoulder.

"Okay, I've got the ultimate deal. Six children and four in the glue factory."

"Three."

"Fine. You drive a hard bargain."

"Yeah, well, so do you." She commented as she leaned up to take a slice of meat-lovers from his box.

"It's part of the job description for me. What's your excuse?" He snatched the pizza that she had just grabbed out of her hands and swallowed almost all of it before she could stop him. She yelped and threw her body on top of his, trying to wrestle what was left of the pizza away from him.

"Get off me Satan!" He commanded, tickling her sides as he swallowed the rest of his food.

Giggling, she shook her head and fought back, digging her knees into his waist. "Never!"

They wrestled for about ten minutes before Pan got tired and went back to her pineapple pizza. Trunks laughed manically, stole the belt from around her jeans, and ran around the room holding it up above his head. While he belted "WE ARE THE CHAMPIONS, MY FRIENDS," at the top of his lungs, Pan leaned over and stole the rest of the pizza that he had protected so adamantly, packing it inside her mouth like a chipmunk. Her cheeks were full when Trunks returned, and his pizza box was empty.

"I hate you." He remarked dryly, taking his seat again. "And there's only cheese pizza left."

"You can have some of my pineapple pizza." She taunted through full cheeks.

"I don't want any pineapple pizza." He refused, pouting. "And, apparently, neither do you. Next week I'm going to conveniently forget to order pineapple and get two meat lover's instead."

"And I'm going to conveniently forget that I'm not supposed to kill you." She pushed him playfully, swallowing some more of the pizza.

Trunks pouted, poking out his bottom lip in annoyance.

"Aww, do you want some?" She teased, sticking out her tongue so that some of the chewed up pizza was still up there.

He glared and contemplated dropping her off the top of the world, but came up with a better idea. A devious glint taking over his eyes, he leaned over, pulled her body to himself, nodded, and bit the tip of her tongue. She yelped and hopped up, nearly choking on the rest of the pizza, and glaring daggers at him.

Forcing herself to swallow, she pushed her shoulders back and made sure that she didn't start laughing on accident. With as straight a face as she could, she started to chastise him. "That was not funny, Trunks. You jerk. I nearly choked to death. And it hurt."

"That was the whole purpose of my plan." He smirked.

"I'm going to remember that, Trunks."

"And I'm going to remember that you ate my pizza."

"I offered you mine."

"I don't want yours. I'm allergic to pineapples."

"You are not."

"I might as well be. I hate 'em so much."

"You're ridiculous."

"You're ridiculous."

"You bit my tongue."

"You stole my pizza."

"You're allergic to pineapples."

"That's not true!"

"Well...then...You're a liar who said he was allergic to pineapples!"

"You stole my pizza."

"You bit my tongue."

"You want to marry me and have six of my children." He triumphed.

"I do not! I want you to have six of my children." She corrected.

"Oh. Well...you're going to sell three of them to the glue factory." He countered.

"That was your idea!" She clarified.

"Yeah? Well...You..." He stuttered.

"Yeah?"

"You..."

"You lost." Pan stated triumphantly, smirking.

"You stole my smirk." He pouted.

"Awww. You want it back?" She teased, still smirking. The smirk died on her lips when she remembered what had just happened when she asked him if he wanted something else back.

He then revived his smirk and wore it proudly. "Thank-you." He remarked, eyes glinting.

"Did you bring Mario Cart?" Trunks asked, taking out Perfect Dark and looking at Pan expectantly. Her sheepish expression was answer enough for him to glower at her in response. "Pan,"

"I forgot, okay?"

"What if it's not okay?" He tempted.

"Well, it'd better be because there's nothing I can do about it now."

"Sure there is," He nodded, putting on his best hopeful look. "You can go home and get it."

"I'm not going all the way home just so you can play a stupid Mario game. Wait until next week. What's the big deal?"

"I only get game night once a week." He complained, looking as disappointed and pitiful as he could manage. "Would you do that to me?"

"With pleasure, actually."

"Pan,"

"Trunks,"

"Why don't you ever do anything for me?" He forced himself to sound helpless and begging. He knew that she would cave if he played his cards right.

"Forget it. I'm not going all the way home. Don't even try that 'once a week' crap with me. I'm here almost every night. I'll bring it tomorrow."

"You'll forget again."

"I'll remember."

"You won't."

"If you don't shut-up, I'm going to forget to remember and remember to forget, and I won't bring it at all."

"..."

He blinked heavily at her, trying to make sense of what she was saying to him. "You'll...what?..." He questioned.

"Forget to remember and remember to forget."

"Stop it."

"You stop it." Pan commanded.

"You're the one doing it." Trunks complained.

"I haven't done anything."

"Stop confusing me, Pan. Do you know what you haven't done? You haven't made sense, that's what you haven't done." He walked back over to the couch and sat down on her legs because she was stretched all the way out on it, as usual. Nudging her hips suggestively, he formed his biggest puppy eyes at her. "Please?"

"I hate you, Trunks. Now get off of me."

"Only if you're getting up to go home and get Mario Cart for me."

"If I go home I'm not coming back here tonight."

"It's almost twelve o'clock so, technically, you wouldn't be coming back until tomorrow."

"No."

"Pan,"

"Trunks,"

"Stop doing that." He complained. "I can never whine without you whining back. Next time I whine, you let me do it in peace."

"I let you whine all you wanted about my eating your pizza."

"You could pay me back by going to get that game."

"Or, I could ignore you and go to sleep on your couch."

"While I'm sitting on your legs?"

"Why not?"

"If you fall asleep I'm going to bite you again."

"Where?" She asked mischievously, a glimmer in her eyes that he couldn't see.

"Don't be disgusting."

"You suggested it. It's not like I would enjoy it. I was just wondering where."

"Sure."

"Trunks, get off me."

"Pan, don't pretend like you don't like it when I'm on top of you. I know what you're thinking about right now."

"Oh yea," she teased. "And what's that?"

"Getting in your car, going home, and bringing Mario Cart back to my house."

"That's so far off base, I don't even know what to call it."

"Out of bounds?"

"That's an understatement." She responded dryly.

"Pan, if you love me, you'll do this."

"Trunks, if you love me you'll get off of my legs."

"Not until you tell me you're leaving."

"Fine. I'm leaving."

"You're not going anywhere."

"That's because you're still on my legs."

"That's because you haven't told me that you're coming back."

"That's because I'm not."

"Well. That's probably because you're not leaving."

"And why aren't I leaving?"

"Because I'm not getting off your legs."

"And why aren't you getting off my legs?"

"Because you're not coming back."

"That's because I'm not leaving."

"Now I'm confused."

"That's because,"

"Shut-up."

"I hate it when you end conversations that I'm winning." Pan responded, amusement in her voice. Trunks sighed heavily, not saying anything but knowing she would get the point.

She didn't try and fight with him again...verbally. She twisted her body instead, until she was laying on her back and he was sitting on her hips. He sighed and angled his body so that he could continue to weigh her down, straddling her waist with his legs.

"Trunks," She complained, her voice just the right pitch of 'whine'.

"You stole my pouting." He told her finally, in a whiny tone.

"You want it back?" Her bottom lip was still poking out.

He nodded, and she realized that his eyes were serious. He really had taken his pizza back when he'd said that he wanted it back. "I forgot." She whispered as his body moved closer to hers.

He didn't stop but, when his lips came closer, he whispered back, "I remembered." And captured her pout in between his teeth before gentlykissing it away.

To be continued...