A/N: Sorry I didn't line off my last chapter to separate Pan's story from Trunks's. I went back and edited it though and also made sure to do so in this chapter. Thanks.

"Put me down you fucking asshole," Pan shouted, struggling harder than she ever had against Trunks and he didn't even notice. He was pissed. Beyond pissed. Vegeta pissed.

"No," was all he said as he flew her (mostly naked) back to Capsule Corp. Once there, he entered the gravity room and unceremoniously tossed her on the floor. "Explain."

"Shit, I didn't realize you needed a sex ed lesson," she said, getting up and padding over to the other side of the gravity room. "But I can better explain when I'm not undressed, or, would you rather me keep my outfit?" Trunks's eyes skimmed her body, lingering on a dragon tattoo he didn't know she had on her hip, and then decided to take the high road and tell her to change. He made a motion with his head toward the room she was headed toward. She disappeared and he assessed his own look. He was put back together. She took 10,000 forevers to come out of the small locker room. He could hear the shower running and hear her moan softly. He snorted at her audacity. But she returned, fresh-faced and angelic in training clothes.

"Where were we?" she asked.

"I don't care to recap what the hell ever I just witnessed, but I don't expect that continued behavior of yours."

"Which behavior? Picking up strangers or torturing them until they beg to be able to jerk themselves off?" Trunks flinched, making Pan grin. "I'm a grown woman…or have you forgotten that I've grown up and not the kid you used to babysit? Maybe by the time I'm 40 you'll recognized me as an adult. Besides, I don't see why it makes a damn to you what I do in my free time, so long as I show up at work Monday on time."

"I don't want you showing up pregnant with no name for a father, or suffering from a disease, or, shit, I don't know, generally acting unbecoming every other night."

"Birth control, saiyan genes, and I'm following your lead, playboy," she said, listing on her fingers. "Besides, how do you know I act 'unbecoming' every other night?"

"Don't," was all he said. "You should have more honor than this."

"You should be smarter than to try to give me a lecture." He was red in the face and had nothing noteworthy to say unless it was, 'You shouldn't be sleeping around like a slut.' But then, she would return the statement and kill him for calling her a slut. Which he had a hard time imagining doing anyway. It was wrong to call her that…despite her actions. Experienced, she was. There was no denying that. She was going to argue with him regardless of what he tried to tell her. That's how their relationship had always been, but, most of the time, it didn't involve such as serious topic to bicker over.

"So why do you feel the need to do this?" he tried. "I mean, plenty of guys would be your boyfriend." She closed her eyes and shook her head.

"I don't want a boyfriend, idiot. I want sex. Just like you and your parade of women. Never find one that is good enough to be perfect, is there?" she asked. Trunks snorted.

"Feh. Do what the hell ever you want to do, but don't do it around me," he said, like it was her fault. Her eye twitched but she didn't retort, surprisingly. "Besides, you're going to do it anyway, right?" Pan shot him a cheeky grin and nodded deeply.

That night, Trunks didn't sleep. His satin sheets burned his skin and entangled his legs. He threw the covers off and paced in front of the window overlooking the city. "Fuck," he muttered.

He was still mad at Pan. He couldn't exactly name a source for his anger, but it was genuine. The scene was burned into his mind forever. Not so much the man in the bed, he had seen more shocking things in some unsavory places potential business partners had taken him to in hopes of getting in bed with Capsule Corp. Etched into his mind was the vision of Pan, standing there, a petite goddess, barely dressed, commanding a man to destroy his pride and fuel his anger. If any woman was able to do to him what Pan had done to Chase, Trunks's humiliation would be anger in mere moments. But, then again, angry sex was always good…unforgiving and rough…and almost never ended in anger. It cooled tempers but fired passions. Perhaps that was Pan's motive. Sounded like her MO for life…push buttons, fight, and then be okay.

But still, it was Pan. She was barely an adult…well, 24. Not really a kid…dammit. He never thought she would turn out like this. Shit, he was surprised she took interest in men enough to sleep with them. Not that she really liked any of those guys. Still, she wasn't obsessively training. Perhaps she was trying out a new skill set.

Hours passed as he paced and thought about Pan. His thoughts ran in circles and what he was trying to figure out his mind was not altogether clear to him. It wasn't really his problem. It was her decision. But he felt responsible for her, as he always had. And, she was right, he had opened her eyes to his excessive use of women. And he suddenly felt bad. Like, really bad. Like guilty and need to repent bad. Then he decided this was entirely his fault because he had had an influence on her as a role model and set a bad example. He was going to take a vow of celibacy.

So, that vow lasted a whole of four days…damn meeting old girlfriends! Weak is the flesh.

Pan hadn't seen Trunks in a few weeks and ramped up her training regimen. Triples, as she and Trunks had always called it. Morning, lunch and evening. But the extra work didn't ease the thrumming in her blood, in her body. She decided after Trunks dragged her back to Capsule Corp that night that she might need to cut back, if only to avoid going through all the men in the city trying to find the one she didn't have to coerce into the things she had in mind. Really, rough, unyielding sex that lasted the entire night would suffice. Not all this lovey-dovey gentle crap. Even "rough and tumble" sex these days was more tumble than rough.

"Damn," she cursed aloud to herself as she popped a ready-made-meal into the microwave, wondering how long it would be until Vegeta came in bitching about how she had reprogrammed his workout routine for Thursdays. In a flash her food was ready and she sat down at the kitchen table to eat. As if on cue, Vegeta stomped in, growled as he passed her, and emerged from the upstairs a few moments later with Bulma in tow, as she told him he made the most ridiculous demands, even for a prince, which really didn't help the situation too much.

As soon as they disappeared, Trunks rolled in, glancing at her, looking slightly guilty in the process. "Yes?" she asked.

"Just came over for some dinner," he said, rummaging through the fridge for some sandwich stuff before making six ham and cheese sandwiches. He sat carefully down at the table across from Pan.

"Have to go back to work?"

"Not tonight. I have to present a growth plan to investors tomorrow, though."

"Yeah?" Pan replied.

"Same presentation I gave last week to the board."

"Oh." There was a pause. "Do you know what I really hate?" she asked, tone slightly apprehensive.

"What?" Trunks answered, wondering if he should be alarmed.

"Making small-talk with you." They were silent after that for a while. "Trunks?"

"Hmm?"

"You know what I was talking about, don't you?"

"No idea, Panny."

"The other night, when I tried to explain trying to find that one person…"

"I remember that." She frowned. He wasn't going to admit he knew remotely how she felt. And why she searched. And why she did what she did. She didn't press the subject and got up and left the conversation hanging.

She went to a new nightclub with Bra that night; it had opened recently, and Bra had wanted to go since the opening. So why not?

"I miss Goten," she said as soon as they got their martinis and were seated at the small table.

"Geez," Pan replied. "Every time he goes off you pine. Why don't you just go with him?"

"Because Mom won't let me. She says that Goten gets more work done in less time when I'm not there as a distraction," Bra pouted.

"Probably true," Pan responded, sipping her drink. "Is that Marron?" Pan had already confirmed the blonde-haired girl's presence but decided it was better for Bra to get her attention.

"It is! Marron! Marron!" Bra called out in a voice loud enough to wake the dead. Marron turned her head from the bar, looking over at the source of the yelling. There was Bra, waving like an idiot, and Pan, covering her ears in pain. Not much changes. She took her drink up to their table and pulled up a chair. After a long (and superfluous, Pan deemed) story, Marron explained that she was waiting on Uub, who had been otherwise engaged. The conversation then delved into Marron's description of next spring's clothing line she was designing at the current, making Bra squeal with excitement when she found out that polka dots were going to be in.

Pan rolled her eyes and stood and stretched, walking over to the railing to look out over the dance floor.

Perhaps she was getting too old for this scene. Or it was getting too old for her. She needed something new to entertain her. She wanted to chase the prey…stalk and hunt it down like an animal…like a saiyan. She snorted in irritation. She needed a challenge, wanted one. But, hell, wouldn't it all be the same shit? Same disappointment, just taking longer to get to? She wasn't one to quit though.

And she was lost in thought when a hand grabbed her arm and pulled her outside the building, around to a side alley. "Why is it that you think that it is appropriate to drag me anywhere you want me to go, instead of asking like a normal person?"

"To avoid the inevitable outcome of the question."

"Touché. Do you now care to explain to me why you dragged me out to an alleyway, since I doubt you are going to bash me in the head and rape me?" Of course, he had acted out of brashness when he saw her overlooking the nightclub. The only thing Trunks was thinking was something along the lines of 'evacuate.' So he took her outside. Fuck.

"Don't drag some guy home tonight," he said. Then he looked down, very fascinated with the dandelions growing in the cracks at his feet.

"Why would you assume that I was going to do that?"

"Because you were looking over the whole club for someone. I saw you there. Looking for some target, a mark, your prey, whatever." Pan quirked an eyebrow.

"I was actually not doing that. Believe it or not, sir, I was thinking. And getting away from your sister and Marron's inane conversation about fashion." That was probably the truth, he measured in his mind, then doubly cursed himself for being such a damned idiot. "And I still don't understand why you are so wrapped up in my private matters. It's not like it's you I am screwing around with." Then her eyes narrowed sharply and the knowledge set it. "You're jealous."

"I am not."

"Are so. I've been through as many men as you have women. But none of those men have been you. Sometimes that royal blood does kick in, Trunks. You've been overlooked for mere humans. You want me."

"That's not true," he said, the bitter edge to his words revealing a light green touch of envy. "Go on inside. I don't even know why I bothered." But she had drawn blood. Perhaps Pan had found the quarry.

"Fine, then. I'll go back in and find someone just to spite you now."

"Wait," he said, weakly. She looked back. "Nevermind." Oh no, no, no. This was too golden to give up. Cruel and mean, perhaps, but perhaps it was not. Pan rounded on him, walking him back into a corner.

"Look me in the eyes right now and say to me you don't want me…tell me that and I'll quit. I will give up sex." She was too close to him, her body was too warm, her scent was too intoxicating, her face was too near. He met her eyes and before he even tried to get those words to pass his lips, she knew he was lying.

"I don't," he managed in a strangled, outdone voice an octave too high.

"Those aren't all the words, pretty boy, and other parts of your body say otherwise," Pan answered, looking down at the space between them. Traitor, Trunks thought. She eased closer to him, leaning up to whisper in his ear, "How long do you think it will take before you beg me?" Her breath was warm on his neck and sent a shiver down his spine that shook the center of his body. Bodies pressed together, he had never questioned his ability to woo a woman into his bed until this second. Pan was a different type…she was a fighter, a rebel, and motivated by the same void he was never able to satisfy. She was proud.

"I don't beg," he answered. "I'm a saiyan prince, remember?"

"Every man has a weakness, even you. But don't worry, I'll exploit some other man tonight. Or better yet, I might just go home and get off thinking of you, your body wet with sweat, moaning in pleasure, muscles tight and chest heaving with exertion, me underneath you, writhing, screaming…" Her voice was breathy and sultry, close to neck. She could feel his body tense and hear his heartbeat quicken. He was pinned against the wall and letting her bombard him with her seductive speech. She could have been speaking a different language because the words mattered little to him. He had heard women whisper things to him that would have made a sailor blush, but, truly, it was the smooth, erotic tone that set his body on fire…that, and the thought of her thinking of him while she touched herself. It was a confidence booster, and, well, his ego never knew when to stop expanding.

"If you don't stop while you're ahead, little girl," he whispered in her ear, letting his hands come to rest on her hips, tugging her closer into his body. "I'll be taking you home and turning you over my knee for such unseemly behavior," Trunks breathed. Pan copped a grin.

"I've never minded a man turning me over his knee. I didn't realize you were in to that kind of thing, Mr. President; it is rather refreshing," she said lightly, tugging at his tie to loosen it. Trunks frowned at her. She took a step back, grinning malevolently. "I'm just kidding…sort of. No need to be so serious, sour puss. Or can you not take a joke anymore? Stress getting to you?" Even at this age, she was able to push his buttons like she had when she was just a kid.

"No," he said tersely, straightening his clothes. Pan reached up and straightened his tie, looking into his icy blue eyes. She hadn't noticed earlier, but he had dark circles under his halfway bloodshot eyes. He was noticeably rundown; she couldn't fathom how much stress from work it would take to make him look this tired. Maybe he needed a few hours in the regeneration tank, although, that probably wouldn't cure the stress of running a multibillion-dollar enterprise.

"You look tired, you know," she said quietly, concern in her voice, the temptress gone. She turned it off like a light switch. He looked at her in confusion. "Your eyes are tired. Have you been sleeping at all?"

"I have been finalizing the growth plan for the next fiscal year and getting the numbers for the past quarter's financials. It's just a busy time. I don't have much time to slow down too much because I've had 5 am conference calls every day this week with clients on the other side of the damn world getting them straightened out on product releases, plus the cluster fuck I call my daily routine. This time of day is all the unwinding I get, at 11 o'clock at night."

"Perhaps you should just go home and go to bed, Trunks, before you crash and burn." He snorted.

"I don't know if you understand it, but I find it terribly hard to fall asleep alone." She took his hand in hers, in an unexpectedly tender way, and looked at him a long second.

"Come on then," she said, walking back up the alleyway.

"Where are we going?"

"I'm going to tell the girls I'm cutting out. I'll point out the drunkest woman in there for you to take home to pass out in your bed without the exertion of sex, so you can get your good night's sleep." Somehow, when she put it that way, his previous admission sounded trite.

"That is too much work. Maybe I'll just go back up to the office and work until I fall asleep on my couch." Pan frowned back at him. They were re-entering the building, and she walked over to where Marron, Uub and Bra were all sitting.

"Pan! We thought you had left us!" Bra said. "Trunks! I didn't know you were here!"

"Yeah, we've been standing outside talking…kind of loud in here." The group nodded. Bra looked at them together and, like a bolt of lightning, she realized that would make such a cute couple! And they could double date with her and Goten! Why hadn't she seen it before? Well, Trunks wasn't really boyfriend material…and Pan didn't like boyfriend. Maybe it was a bad idea…but she was going to tell Goten about it anyway. "I'm about to head on home…lot to do tomorrow," Pan was saying.

"Aww, we'll miss you!" Marron said, like Pan would never return. Looking at the table, Pan estimated Marron to be on her fourth drink. Bad sign. The girl was bad at drinking.

"I'll see you soon enough," she answered, giving the blonde a half hug.

"I'll see you tomorrow, sis. I'm going home, too. I have another 5 am call."

"Yuck. All right. Night, guys." They walked out together.

"Going back to work?"

"Yeah."

"Want to come back to my place? I promise I won't seduce you. It's no fun playing with a wounded adversary." Trunks looked at her suspiciously.

"Fine, but just for a little while." Pan shrugged and followed Trunks to his car.

That's it for Chapter 2. Hope you liked it!