Author Notes:

To all my fateful readers… whoever is left that is…

My intention was to finish this story long ago, but certain deterrents in my life left me feeling depressed and uninspired, and like lot of things, I had given up. For the most part I had given up on the Dragonball Z fandom, but yesterday I had a revelation that is sure to lead my life in the right direction, and as my first order of business is to tie up some loose ends. I never liked how this, and many other unfinished works, hung over my head, more or less the reason why things were the way they were in my life. So regardless to my feelings of the fandom, I want to finish this story and do the best job I can. I hope those who still feel my work was worth it, is willing to give me another shot.

Part IV:

"What are you doing here?" Pan asked softly, staring into the warm ambers of her tiny fireplace. She had reluctantly let him inside; the initial shock finally wore off and settled instead to bitterness and contempt.

"I wanted to… needed to see you again."

Pan's eyes narrowed grimly. "And it took you nearly a year finally to work up the nerve." She snorted with a frank and humorless chuckle, crossing the distance of the room, disappearing into the adjacent kitchenette.

Pan re-entered the room with a pot of tea, pouring herself a cup, she cuddled it in her icy grip. She sat back on her tiny couch, closing her eyes as he approached her, unbelieving that his presence was real. She winced when she felt his hand touched the stocky ends of her hair; opening her eyes at this, she studied his expression both rueful and bemused.

"You cut your hair." Trunks rolled the thick strands in his fingers.

"How observant," She answered dryly, jerking her head out of his reach. Pan was aware Trunks was stalling, but she gave him the benefit of the doubt and sipped absently at her tea. Sparing him an even glare, she took her first really look at him out of the corner of her eye. He had grown out his hair and had it pulled back in a tangled ponytail, while his face was unusually scruffy, detailing a beard that started to stubble his chin and upper lip; his novel appearance was rugged and hale. She chewed at her lip nervously, her feelings so disconcerting, that she jumped when he touched her again, his hands trailing lovingly along her forearms. Pan rested her cup shakily on the coffee table, desperately to put space between them.

"How did you find me?" Pan asked dejectedly, angry at his presence, but moreover her readiness to indulge him.

"You know you could never hide from me." He stood as well, following her as she stood by a darkened window. It was snowing again.

Pan grimaced at his proximity, the heady aroma that clung to his body making her inwardly whimper. "My father told you, didn't he?"

"Goten," Trunks said simply, looking at the brunette's expression through the window as they silently watched the snow flurries.

Trunks rested his hand against her shoulders, nuzzling her hair beneath his nose, noting the change in her shampoo and the subtle scent in her skin, vanilla with a hint of lavender. He drank her in voraciously, his eyes lidded as his arms moved to encircle her, a feathered kiss brushing along the tender region behind her ear.

"God, I've missed you. I didn't know how much I would."

The young saiyajin stood stiffly, cold and unresponsive. "Wasn't Marron there to keep you company?" She offered him a quarter of her profile, staring daggers as she turned sharply and retraced her steps towards the sofa again.

Trunks' expression grew dark, but he stilled his tongue from its instinctive backlash. "I didn't come here to argue with you, Pan." He ground out, pacing the room before stopped short of the popping fire, staring into the burning embers as he consider what he was about to say. "I want to talk... to work this through--"

"I hate you!" Pan all but screamed; her vision a blur when she looked back at him again. "You cheated and I hate you! I don't want anything to do with you! Bastard! I hate you! I hate you!" Her poisonous mantra hung heavily between them as her fists pounded at his chest as she wanting nothing more than to tear him pieces. Trunks caught her wrists, pulling her into an embrace, the scrutiny in his features belying the warmth of his arms.

"I'm sorry." Trunks whispered over her anguished sobs. "I'm so sorry."

At that moment storm crescendo in a fury; the wind screaming against the eaves, making the whole building seem to shiver in response. Pan clung to Trunks unwittingly, burying face into woollen blazer as the arrant cold chilled her to the core.

"You never could stand the cold." Trunks said softly, lowering his head to rest his face against hers.

Pan sputtered a weak laugh, pulling away to wipe at her wet face with her sleeve. She looked away as she felt his hand stroke gingerly along her back. She was determined not to lose herself in the warmth of his body, his physical power and prowess. She grimaced as her heart twisted painfully in her chest, blinking back fresh tears that jewelled in her lashes.

"Pan..." Pan couldn't miss the undertones in his voice. "You can hate me all you want. I deserve it. I screwed you, and I know I can't change what happened," He placed a hand beneath her chin, lifting her head to start into her honey-brown eyes. "But I know this Son Pan, I love you, and I want us to work this out, for us to be together… for us to be a family."

Pan's brow furrowed at his confession, pulling away slowly, holding herself as she shivered, only this time it wasn't from the cold. "A family…?"

Trunks nodded. "Yes. I've had a long time to think about this Pan, and I've realized I want spend the rest of my life with then you."

"Trunks, I--"

"I want you to marry me."