Something had to give. Four days later, Bulma still wouldn't let him back in his office. What was worse was the Daily Business Journal had gotten photographs of Trunks in his haggard state and found he was forced to take time off to recuperate. That news went over well. Trunks was all up in arms about it, and desperately tried to get his mother to allow him to go back to work. As it was, she had threatened him heavily with the wrath of Vegeta if he disobeyed.

"But I have nothing to do, and if I am working, I will be spending my time wisely."

"Take a trip. Go on a holiday. Hang out and catch up on all the award-winning movies and TV shows you have been missing the past few years. Hell, I don't care if you decide to train a little on the side. Or, here's a thought, rest. Do nothing. Eat and sleep. Go out on a real date with a nice girl. I know one who has been tending to you who would probably enjoy going to see a show and having a nice night out." If only the woman knew Pan's true colors. "You could take her with you to the beach or something. Just go do it. Get out of my lab. Your ki is throwing off the results of my electromagnetic thermometer."

Trunks decided a trip to paradise would be nice. There were beaches, frozen beverages to drink while on the beach, perhaps a beach babe or two. He called up Capsule's travel agent, got an entire island rented, and packed his bag.

"I want you to take Pan with you!" Bulma insisted when he told her he was going to be off the grid for a couple of weeks. Of course, she still had the image of cute purple-haired, dark-eyed children spending the night with Grandma Bulma and Grandpa Veggie. She hadn't had a baby running around her house in 25 years, dammit!

"I want to be able to relax, not be fawned over."

"Take Bra."

"Are you insane?"

"Goten?"

"Mom."

"Gin?"

"He's gone on vacation himself since I'll be gone. He is going to ask his girlfriend to marry him."

"That's exciting. So take Pan."

"Mom. I am damn near forty years old. I don't need a babysitter." Bulma went over and picked up the phone. "Who are you calling?" he asked in confusion.

"I'm calling over to the gravity room." Trunks rolled his eyes. Like his father would destroy the sanctity of the gravity room by allowing his mother to put in a phone.

"This better be good, woman!" he heard his father growl into the phone.

"Dammit," Trunks muttered beneath his breath.

"Will you tell your son to take Pan with him on vacation?" Bulma asked.

"Give him the damn phone."

"Hello?" Trunks said warily into the receiver.

"Don't you damn 'hello' me, brat! You knew I was on the other end of the line. Take your female equivalent with you wherever the hell you're going and don't come back until you and she don't want to have sex with anyone else but each other for the rest of your lives. It is incredibly tedious not being able to have a sufficient challenge for sparring because she comes in smelling like—"

"Puerile humans unworthy of even a third class saiyan's daughter. I'm not going to change her."

"Brat, don't make me come over there. You're sister already told me of the pathetic state you're in and I could snap you in half like a dry—" Trunks handed the phone to his mother.

"Kami, I'll take her."

Pan wasn't exactly receptive to the idea of being trapped on an island with Trunks for a couple of weeks. Bulma gave her the time off. Bra was super envious of the opportunity and even glad that someone was nursing her idiot brother back to health. She had gone by to see him at his place and had even brought him some food (well, Goten had had Chichi make a pot of chicken soup). He looked better but still awful. But now, away from the city, the business, the newspapers, and everything associated with that, he'd surely be 110% by the time he got back!

Bra wasn't sure why Pan wasn't raring to go, though. Trunks and Pan were best friends, and, on top of that, Pan absolutely loved the beach. Perhaps the suddenness of the trip had been off-putting and would take a minute to go away before happiness settled in. Bra was wrong.

The two saiyans flew by personal jet to the small tropical island, landing on the water, sliding right up to the pier. Staff members were graciously unloading their luggage and even hanging leis on their necks.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Briefs and Miss Son. We are very excited to have you," the head of staff told them, leading them up the beach toward the expansive bungalow. He gave them a tour, ending a very large, open-air bedroom, which opened toward the beach. The wind blew the small bamboo chimes hanging in across the top of the glass-less window. Roman blinds were rolled up at the top of the window. Strips of thin fabric ran across the top of the four-post mahogany canopy bed. The master bathroom was attached. "And here is your room," he said. There was obviously no doubt in his mind that Pan and Trunks were a couple. "We have dinner at 6 in the main dining room. Tonight we have grilled fish, caught right out the lagoon, with marinated vegetables and pilaf and chocolate torte for dessert. Please, settle in. If you need me, I will be in the kitchen." He exited the room.

Pan tossed down the tote bag she had on her shoulder and looked at Trunks. "Well, Boxer Boy, it seems we have each other's undivided attention for a couple of weeks. I'm going to put on my swimming suit, get a daiquiri and sit on the beach. You are welcome to join me." She didn't wait for his response but instead pulled out her swimming suit from the tote bag and went into the bathroom to change. Trunks collapsed across the bed. She walked out in a tiny black bikini and looked at him.

"Your father wouldn't approve of that outfit," he said, glancing at her.

"Good thing he isn't here." And she walked out.

They met up at dinner that night. It was delicious. Pan had tossed her cover up over the bikini while Trunks emerged from taking a very good nap wearing some worn out shorts and matching worn out T-shirt.

"Every time I see you wear that shirt, it makes me wonder how the wealthiest man in the world keeps such a god-awful shirt, especially a man very concerned about his appearance."

"You're the only one who ever sees me wear it. No worries, mother…I don't run around in public with a 10-year-old T-shirt on."

"I wasn't worried." She had gotten a good tan in the couple of hours that she had been in the sun, although her cheeks were pink. Her hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail, slightly damp, as she had obviously taken a dip into the crystal water.

"How's the water?"

"Perfect." He nodded, continuing to eat his dinner slowly. Pan's was gone and being replaced with seconds. Trunks wasn't going to be able to finish his first plate. Pan shot him a glance, worrying about him. He had been getting better for a couple of days.

He went to bed early, while Pan went back out to watch the sunset. She walked back in and showered, then climbed into bed with Trunks. He was already asleep. She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. "You worry the shit out me, you beautiful bastard," she whispered to his sleeping form. "And I have no idea how to make you better." She laid back against her pillow and took a long time to fall asleep. When she woke up, it was high morning, and she could hear Trunks in the bathroom showering and singing quietly. He had always sung in the shower. Previously it was a shamelessly loud singing…clearly he had toned it down with age. She changed into a swimming suit and went in search of food and the beach.

Trunks walked down to where Pan was sitting alone on the beach. The water was immaculate. "I brought you a fresh drink," he said, setting the fresh mai tai on the small side table.

"Thanks." She took a sip and looked over at him. He had on his swimming trunks but looked quite emaciated. "It's beautiful here."

"It is. The sunset yesterday was unbelievable…I wish you had been awake to see it." He didn't respond, just look out into the distance on the water. "Are you hungry?" she asked.

"No. I ate a bowl of cereal when I got up." A bowl. Not a box. A bowl of cereal.

"That's it, mister," she said sternly, hopping up from her seat, hands on her hips. He looked up at her in confusion. "I am going to go in that kitchen, make some food, and then you will eat all of it. Every bit. And if you don't, I swear on Kami's name, I will fucking force feed you." And she didn't say it like she didn't mean it. She had the look that her mother and grandmother put on when they meant something. She had the searing gaze that would have put any full-blooded saiyan to shame. He nodded, trying not to quail before her like some kind of pussy. She stomped back up the beach toward the enormous bungalow that they occupied and took over the kitchen, throwing the staff out, telling them to go have some drinks and think of some kind of overly rich dessert they could make at supper. And for the second time in few days, Pan whipped up enough food to feed a small country, literally.

A few of the staff helped her lay the food out on the dining table and she went out on the veranda and looked out to where the lavender-haired man was sitting on the beach. "TRUNKS BRIEFS! GET YOUR SORRY ASS UP HERE AND EAT, DAMMIT!" she shouted at the absolute top of her lungs. The tone was menacing. He popped up and rushed up the beach, fearing for his life a major thought on his mind. He wasn't even this concerned when it came to his father's threats. He went on into the dining room and sat down at the end of the table, smelling the food. He hadn't been hungry, but, since Pan had cooked the enormous meal, his mouth watered and stomach growled. And he inhaled the entire table of food in under five minutes, a personal record for him.

"Thank you," he said quietly.

"You are welcome." After that, Trunks began to put on weight, packing on enough pounds to start building up his muscles as he did light training exercises. He hadn't realized how far he had let himself slip…all because of a woman.