"PAN! THE OTHER BUTTON! THE OTHER BUTTON! THE BLUE ONE! HURRY UP!" Bulma shouted at the top of her lungs. Pan was scrambling to find the right button on what can only be described as the largest control panel she had ever seen in her entire life. Bulma was trying to blow the place up with her endeavors into capturing thermal wind energy. Literally, blow up. The air was rushing from a large fan through a long, cylindrical room. This was the first time she had actually turned the fan on, so, of course, there was a problem. The fan was much too strong for the room. Result? Bulma had been standing in the doorway to the room when the fan was turned on. Now, she was holding onto said doorway for dear life. Once Pan slammed her hand down on the button, Bulma abruptly fell with a smack on the floor.

"Damn," she said, rubbing her butt. "I guess I need to reduce the RPMs. And get a better door." Pan snorted.

"Hey, Mom; hey, Pan," Trunks said, walking into the control room, looking at Pan quizzically as his mother continued to rub her bruised rump and look at the stripped hinges of the doorway.

"Hey dear," she said, turning. "How is your day?"

"Not too bad. Yours?"

"We're hanging on," Pan replied, smirking at Bulma, who frowned. "Well, Bulma is, at least."

"I don't want to know what happened," he said, taking in the scattered papers around the room. "It looks like a tornado hit in here. What have you been testing?"

"Tornadoes," Pan answered. Trunks shook his head. Cleaning bots were already gathering up the mess. "So what brings you to our dungeon?" she asked.

"Can't I just visit the two loveliest women in my life?" he asked, trying to look angelic.

"Yes, just like your father makes trips over here to see me because he enjoys my company," Bulma replied, looking among the stack of papers from the bots for her schematics sheets. Trunks hmphed and crossed his arms.

"Spill it, Boxer Boy," Pan said.

"I just came to see if you were in the mood to spar tonight." When was she not in the mood to spar?

"I'll see if I can fit it into my busy schedule, but the outlook is promising," she replied, giving him a wink.

"Okay. See you at 7?"

"It's on."

Bulma was surprised that Trunks was taking time to hang out with someone besides a groupie or his paperwork. She tried to prod Pan for some juicy info but was met with evasive answers and even a crimson blush. That was what caught Bulma's attention. Maybe, just maybe, Trunks would keep her. The images of the grandchildren she thought he would never give her (legitimately) danced in her head as she watched the two bantering back and forth as they walked across the lawn to the gravity room.

"Isn't it sweet, Vegeta?" she asked, sipping her cup of tea, looking out the window. He rolled his eyes behind her and flipped channels from his spot on the couch. "Maybe you will be a grandpa!"

"Kami, woman. Don't get your hopes up. He has to be able to keep her first."

"TRUNKKKKSSSSS!" Pan whined, holding her nose, which was gushing blood. He had broken her nose. BROKEN IT.

"I didn't mean to, Panny."

"You asshole," she groaned, internally cursing the involuntary tears that came to her eyes. There was blood like no tomorrow on her tank top, pants, the floor and, now, Trunks's shirt. "You KNOW how much it hurts." Of course, he thought she was outright crying because her eyes were tearing so. That made him really feel like an ass. It had been an accident. She was faster than he had thought and managed to bungle up a blast in such as way that when she came up behind him (unexpectedly), he elbowed her in the face. Somehow the velocity and the speed and the alignment of the stars was just so that there was an instantaneous busting of the cartilage and rivers of blood. This was exacerbated by her rapid heartbeat.

He took off his shirt, giving it to her to stem the blood flow. She was still muttering steady curses under her breath. Of course, he had no idea where the hell the senzu beans were, or if there were any.

He scurried off into the house, finding his mother and father cuddled up on the couch watching a movie.

"Hey, Dad?"

"Brat?"

"Do you have any spare senzu beans around?"

"Is she close to death?"

"I broke her nose really bad." He barked a laugh.

"No, I don't have any spare senzu beans. Tell her that the way her nose feels is how mine feels when we train." Trunks rolled his eyes and went back out to the gravity room. Pan was in the locker room washing her face and changing out of her shirt. Trunks walked in on her during this process and turned his back as soon as he saw his error.

"You have seen me in a more compromising position that this," Pan grumbled, trying to ensure that the shirt didn't brush her injured nose when she took it off. "And you could help." With slightly shaky hands, Trunks helped her pull the shirt over her head. The bleeding was minimal but her eyes were blackening and the damage was considerable. He felt really bad.

"Dad said there aren't any senzu beans. Want me to get the regeneration tank running for you?"

"He's so helpful. He used to keep an emergency stash of senzu beans in the control panel console." Trunks vanished and returned like a gust of wind. He fed her the bean and waited. Her injury healed up, although the swelling and black eyes would take longer to heal. "Thanks."

"Don't thank me. I am the one who broke your nose." She got up and pulled a towel out from the shelf above her head.

"It isn't the first time. Probably won't be the last. I'm going to rinse off. I made a mess."

"Do you need assistance in the shower?" Trunks asked, waggling his eyebrows.

"No, dirty boy. I can wash my own body." She disappeared into the shower room with a wink. He was tempted to follow her in, just to see if he could get by with it. He started to do it, but she was on to him. "No means no." He groaned and went on into the house to change and eat.

After they ate, Pan looked at Trunks, waiting for a plan. It was only 8:30…a broken nose kind of ruins sparring. Vegeta and Bulma had usurped the couch for movie night. Apparently they had compromised with an action movie with an endearing love story attached. So, she followed Trunks up to his old room, where they had watched plenty of movies, had plenty of discussions and, one time, when she was younger and they were drunk, shared a kiss. Just a kiss. Because Trunks passed out. He probably didn't even remember.

"Sleeping here tonight?" Pan asked as he flopped on his bed.

"Maybe. I had the carpets cleaned today so the floor is probably still wet." Pan lay down across him, making him let out an over-dramatized 'oophm.'

"I have a question."

"Shoot." Pan rolled off of him and propped herself up on her elbow to look at him.

"Do you remember that time we got really drunk? I think I was 18 or 19…your parents were out of town and you, me, Bra and Goten all got shitty drunk. Remember that?" He wrinkled his brow and thought about it.

"What did you have on?" Pan gave him a "what the hell" look. "If it's the time you rolled in with some short-ass shorts on and a halter top, then yeah, I remember." Pan thought a moment. Yeah, that was the time.

"Yeah."

"I remember. What about it?" She rolled her eyes in the dimness. He would have no recollection of it. She had thought maybe he had just ignored what had occurred back then, dismissing it as a one-off.

"Nothing. We should do it again sometime."

"Get drunk or kiss and pass out?" was his snarky reply.

"You passed out." Of course he remembered, the bastard.

"I'm wide awake now, beautiful," he said, voice low and sultry, sending shivers up her spine. Without asking permission, he rolled over her, his face hovering above hers, momentarily, before seizing her lips with his own. She yielded to him, sliding her hands around his neck and pulling him closer to her. He relaxed into her body, like he had been waiting for her to give him a sign that it would be okay. A deep groan formed in his throat, urging Pan to kiss him more deeply. Simultaneously, they pulled back, their breathing a little more erratic now. Neither said anything, just gazed into the other's eyes. He ran a hand down her side, to her thigh, which he pulled up for her to wrap around his leg.

Pan wanted nothing more than to pull him into her body and make him hers. His presence flooded her mind. The heat of his skin, the dampness of his hair, his scent, his heartbeat and breathing. She was drunk on him. The idea of all the time that she had spent without touching him made her feel like previous years of her life were cold. She groaned at the thought.

"Is your nose okay?" he asked. It had been a pained groan, apparently.

"It's all right." She pulled his lips to hers again, reveling in the warmth and touch of his body. She wondered if he felt the same sensations that she did.

Of course he was riding off of the same drunkenness that she felt. He wanted to be with her. He wanted to have mind-blowing sex with her, to prove she didn't need anyone else. He wanted to sleep beside her at night. He was in love with her. He couldn't deny it. How she felt, he had no idea. But he really hoped that she felt the same way because he wasn't sure if he knew how to manage if not.

"Trunks," she said quietly.

"Hmm?"

"The other night at my apartment with Cake…"

"Yeah?"

"I don't do that much."

"I know," he breathed, taking in her scent. He pressed his lips to her skin. They lay there, wrapped up in each other's arms, until they fell asleep.

He woke up to find himself alone, feeling for Pan at the edge of his dreaming…only to find an empty side of the bed. But the spot was still warm. "Get your ass up, boxer boy," he heard her say from the doorway. "It's 7 am and you owe me a fight."

Pan was overwhelmed. In her entire life, she had never been in a real relationship, and every fiber of her being was beginning to recoil against the blooming love in her heart. This could end badly for her. Sure, Trunks had kept girlfriends and had almost proposed to that tramp he had dated for what seemed like forever (that was how annoying Pan found her to be). Pan…she hadn't ever had a boyfriend she kept longer than two months. They irritated her.

But thoughts of being with Trunks in a true relationship now crossed her mind as terrifying. Some many things could go wrong. He might not even want to keep her around any way…he was just putting up with her until they had sex. Or, even if he wanted to date her, what if he hated it and broke her heart? And then, there was the issue of potentially losing a life-long friend. She had never been the rational one in the outfit; she had always rushed headlong into the fight, with Trunks rolling his eyes at her impulsiveness and following to keep her from getting into too much trouble. But now wasn't the time for brashness. The stakes were higher than they had ever been in her life. Nothing could be worse than living without Trunks in her life in any capacity. She had no idea what she was going to do.

They all went out drinking, the entire group of them. Bra, Goten, Uub, Marron, Trunks and Pan. It had been Bra's idea. Bulma had told her that there was something up with Pan and Trunks, and Bra wanted to see exactly what it was. So, where else is more conducive to a show of PDA than when you are out drunk, at a club, dancing?

The group met up at one bar, drank and then headed for the club…the very same one that the ridiculous game between Pan and Trunks started. Pan was running late, missed drinks at the bar and came into the club looking a little disheveled. In all reality, she had been at her apartment giving herself a pep talk about Trunks. He had thrown her off of her game. She had been doing very well torturing young men around the city and using them for sex. Now she was caught up with emotions. But tonight, she decided that she would do something that she usually didn't do…get plastered and have sex. This was the best strategy she could come up with. If Trunks didn't really want her around, then it could be passed off as nothing but a bad decision while drunk. If he wanted her, he would keep the ball rolling. Any other consequences of this plan were not immediately foreseeable to her.

They group of them were sitting at a high top further away from the bar; they were chatting and laughing. Pan was really nervous. She walked up to the group, forcing a smile that mostly everyone bought. "What kind of drinks are you having tonight?" she asked loudly, over the din of the music.

"Tequila," Bra answered, waving down a server to get a round of shots for the table. Pan stood between Goten and Trunks, taking a deep breath to calm herself, while she looked around the establishment. It was packed out. The tray was brought over and each of them took their small glass, simultaneously downing their shot. Pan didn't have a lime chaser, so she took a sip of Trunks's beer once he set it back down. They stood around talking, while Bra was ordering round after round of drinks. Marron had to bow out, along with Uub. But they were all generally liquored up when they all went out to the dance floor.

Pan was sex in motion. Trunks had seen her moves before, but never had he actually danced with her. She was limber, fluid, light. That's not to say that Trunks couldn't measure up to her abilities, but she was beautiful, enchanting. The way he felt about her wasn't helped by the prolific amount of alcohol pumping through his body.

Her skin tight jeans and too-small blouse were a second skin, rubbing against him, heating his body. Her eyes were half-lidded, as if she wasn't really concentrating on the world around her but was absorbed into the music. She placed Trunks's hands on her hips, pulling him closer at the music slowed. She danced with her back to him, the rhythm of her body matching his at a slow grind. He rested his head in the crook of her neck.

"Having fun?" she asked.

"I think I am. Are you?"

"I think I am, too." From not too far off, Bra watched the two, waiting for something more than dirty dancing. A kiss, a nip, a laugh with a blush. Anything to suggest that there was something there. But she got nothing else.

They were all too sloshed to remember much of the night's events. Pan and Trunks stayed the latest, drinking even more at the bar. They finally left as well, going back to his apartment.

The lights were off inside; the city flooded out before them from the balcony. "It's beautiful," Pan said, head foggy with alcohol. "But there're no stars…"

"The only time I ever see many stars is when I visit Mt. Paozu."

"I wish we had stars here. I didn't know I missed them." She turned to find him right behind her, looking out at the skyline then down to her. She stretched up to kiss him. And from that single kiss, it was all downhill from there.

She was too drunk and incoherent to remember what the sex was like. She could remember going down on him on the couch. He came in her mouth unexpectedly, but didn't lose any of his vigor. After that, she completely blacked out. She could have had the best sex of her life, but she wouldn't have known it. When she woke up the next morning, it was 7 am, and Trunks was unconscious, drooling, naked beside her. Her head was throbbing and mouth was dry. She looked around the room; there was an empty condom wrapper on the nightstand. How thoughtful of him to not make a mess inside of her, she thought. She pulled on her clothes and staggered out of the apartment, going home to nurse the unbelievable hangover.

He woke up alone, as usual when it came to Pan. She didn't come back to see him, didn't call, didn't show up in his office the following week. He was beyond embarrassed and halfway blamed his lack of self control on her vacating. He had texted her 'what's up?' a week and a half later but got no notable response past, 'nothing. Busy at work.' So he gave up on her. She was like a ghost in his life. He was just another one of the men she manipulated for her own enjoyment, bringing them to their knees before her. He didn't want to be like everyone else. Maybe that was why it hurt so bad that she disappeared in the wee hours of the morning to leave him: he wasn't special to her. He was just like every man who had come before him. Trunks Briefs was a generic man with no name…something he had never been in his entire life, pursuing something that he couldn't have, also, for the first time in his life. It wasn't just consequence that Trunks didn't cross paths with Pan for almost two months, although it seemed infinitely longer.