Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ You Will Be Mine ❯ You top my list of things to do ( Chapter 7 )

Chapter 7

You top my list of things to do

Somebody was knocking on the window.

Pan was lying on her stomach on her bed, her face buried in the pillow. "It's open," she called listlessly, not even bothering to look up. She knew who it was and although she really did not want to talk, she knew it was too late to run. Silently she cursed Vegeta for teaching his daughter how to hide her ki so well.

Bra jumped through the window and onto her bed in one fluent motion. "I'm fed up with this," she declared icily. "For weeks I've been waiting for you to tell me what the hell was going on with you and Trunks, but you haven't. Every time I asked you, you refused to answer or flat out lied to me. I've had it."

Pan grimaced into the pillow but did not look up. Great, now her best friend was mad at her and she could not even deny that it was her own fault. The problem was that she was just not ready to talk about Trunks and the bet, not even with her best friend. She simply did not want to think about it any more than she already did. At the moment she was actually sorry that it was summer - she did not even have college to distract her.

"And because you won't tell me," Bra continued, "I will tell you what I think is going on." She paused for dramatic effect and was likely hoping that the other girl would look at her. Pan refused to move.

"I think you and Trunks are having an affaire behind everybody's backs," Bra stated, now sounding satisfied rather than angry.

Pan sat up in a flash, staring at her friend incredulously. To her embarrassment, she felt her cheeks heat up. "We are not having an affaire," she almost shouted. "We're not."

Bra looked at her, her eyes fixed on her friend. Pan could not help but notice the similarity in her and Trunks' eyes, although Bra's were a lighter shade of blue than his.

"I don't even know if you are telling the truth," the blue-haired girl said at last, frowning a little. "I don't know if my best friend is telling the truth," she repeated, so silent that Pan would have missed it if it weren't for her Saiyan hearing.

"We're not having an affaire," Pan repeated, knowing that the blush on her face was not helping her in any way. "I've told you before that we're just messing around. It's a..." She swallowed, looking away from her friend's face. "...it's a game."

"Pan, please." The tone of Bra's voice was enough to make her look up again. "I saw you kiss him. This is not just a game."

Pan blushed again, darker now, but shook her head at Bra's challenging gaze. "You're wrong, Bra. This is exactly that. A game," she said bitterly, and before Bra could reply: "Please, spare me your lecture."

The other girl pressed her lips together. "Fine," she replied in a clipped voice, "but I don't think you know what you are doing."

Pan sighed. "You're right, I don't."

For a while the girls sat on the bed quietly, Bra still pressing her lips together. Pan knew the girl was trying her best to keep her promise to not lecture her and she appreciated it, but she really did not know what to say to the girl now. She was definitely not going to tell her anything about the bet, that was sure. She also didn't really want to bring up anything about Saiyans, being in heat or mating either, because there was no way that Bra would miss the link to Trunks and her 'game'. Discussing whether or not she was unconsciously trying to claim Trunks as her mate was not something she was willing to do with his little sister, no matter how much she wanted to know if she was driven by inhuman instincts or not. Bra, however, would not really want to talk about anything else.

"Why did you kiss him, Pan?" the blue-haired girl finally asked.

Pan shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know," she answered helplessly. "It seemed like the right... no, not like the right thing..." her voice trailed off and she paused before continuing. "It seemed like the only thing I could do." That was true, she realised. Of course, she had kissed him because she needed to seduce him, because if he kissed back she would be one step closer to winning the bet. There had however been something inescapable in the event, as if it was impossible to step away from him once their skin had touched. She had known she should have stayed away from him in the club if she wanted their friends to remain oblivious of what was going on, she had known that in the end, kissing him would only make her feel bad. None of that had mattered, though, once their lips had touched. Nothing had mattered but them.

"I am leaving," Bra declared. She did not sound hostile, merely resigned. Pan looked up, black eyes meeting blue.

"I don't think there is any other way to keep from lecturing you," her friend elaborated, smiling a bit. She stood up, wiping bright blue hair out of her face, and walked over to the window.

"Bra," Pan called and paused when the other girl turned to look at her.

"Thank you," she said softly.

Bra nodded and sent her a small smile. "You're welcome. You know that I think whatever it is you're doing isn't wise, but I'll keep out of this as much as I can. And you know you can always talk to me. Always."

Pan nodded gratefully. "I know. I just don't want to talk about this now."

She could not read her friend's expression as the girl jumped out of the window and she was not sure if she wanted to. With a sigh she let herself drop down on her bed and stared into her pillow.

*^*^*^*^*

Five days passed, and she was going mad.

It wasn't that she missed him. She was not even thinking about him constantly - at least not consciously. However, somewhere in the back of her mind she felt a constant pull, as if there was a thin, intangible thread between them that was so tight that with everything he did he tugged on it, attracting her attention. It was not as if they shared a telepathic connection - she did not know what he was thinking or what he was doing. She was just aware of him, or more precisely, she was aware of the gentle pressure of his power on her ki-sense. She compared it to being unable to keep her eyes off of him when he was in the same room as her; that way that her gaze would almost unconsciously follow his every move.

She did not want him running around in her brain constantly. She did not even want to know what that meant. She knew she was mightily pissed off with a certain royal, purple-haired bastard and that he was going to have a very hard time making up for his actions when he was back. At the moment, she was not even sure if she wanted to win this bet.

She frowned, shocked at that thought. Was she? Despite her anger and embarrassment, she still wanted to win. She still wanted him-

No! She shook her head wildly. She was furious with him. He did not deserve her attention. She was not going to run after him, not anymore. Not even when that gut-wrenching feeling told her that if she was just close to him, everything would be better.

In her attempts to distract herself she had locked herself in her room for two days, so that she wouldn't run into anyone who would make her think about him. It had not worked, though, so the next three days she had bugged her father and Bra to spar with her. The sparring had helped her work out a lot of frustration, but it hadn't been enough to keep her mind off of the issues at hand. Especially not when Bra continuously sent her disapproving looks and Gohan kept informing why she was so distracted. When he, on the fifth day, noted that oddly enough she was giving off a different scent than usual, she freaked out and, shouting that she was going over to Capsule Corps., fled away from her father's sharp senses.

She had been flying all day, basking herself in the hot summer sun, unavailingly trying to keep her growing frustration under control. She did not like not being in control of her own life, and at the moment, it felt like that.

She nodded to herself. Yes, it felt like she was not what her life was about, but Trunks was. The bet was. Add that to the fact that she was still furious with him and upset that he had hurt her like this, and it made for a very unhappy Panny.

He was still suppressing his ki - only that cheered her up a bit. Apparently the only way for him to win this bet was making sure he would not see her until they had reached the deadline. It was actually rather complimentary, in a very painful way. It was also working, because tonight would be full moon.

Tonight, she would lose.

Her stomach growled, reminding her that it was past dinner time already. She started flying home when she remembered telling her father that she was going to go to Capsule Corps. Great. Her father, who acted Saiyan only when it came to food, would only have told her mother when dinner was ready, and would consequently have eaten Pan's portion as well. And since tomorrow was grocery day, this meant that there was no food left in the house.

She would have to go to Capsule Corps. to be able to get a free Saiyan-sized meal.

Peeved, she changed directions and headed over to the immense building complex. She had been avoiding the Briefs' home the last few days because she did not want to run into Vegeta. Although she wanted to know what exactly he knew about mating, the man unsettled her almost as much as his precious son did, and with his continuously degrading comments, she felt that she would one day end up killing him in a fit of rage - or, more likely, die trying. Vegeta had so far only succeeded in confusing her more, and if she wanted any information on this subject, she would have to find another source.

Grimacing to herself, she suppressed her power level so that Vegeta could not seek her out and embarrass her in front of the rest of the family. Courtesy had never been one of his strengths and his sense of humor was more sadistic than anything else. It would probably amuse him to take advantage of the situation in that way.

She landed in front of the kitchen and hopped inside through the open door. Bra was sitting at the table and Bulma was rustling through the cupboards. Judging from the smell, she was trying to cook. Vegeta was nowhere to be seen or felt, suppressing his ki like she was.

"Hey, Pan," Bra called over the noises her mother was making, not at all surprised that her friend was walking in at this hour.

Pan smiled at her. "Anyone here willing to feed me?"

Bulma, who had turned around when her daughter had spoken up, grinned at her. "Of course, dear. There'll be plenty of food." She started putting plates on the table and gestured for Pan to sit down.

Pan did so and glanced over at Bra. The blue-haired girl made a face at her, obviously not expecting much from the meal. Pan laughed, but took a bite anyway. She had to fill her stomach with something, didn't she?

They had finished dinner. It had surprisingly enough not been all that bad, which Pan suspected might be the result of the many kitchen robots that Bulma owned. At least her stomach was silenced now, she thought contently as she patted it. Bra had run to her rooms to get ready for a date later that night, leaving her and the older woman to clean up the table.

"Pan, dear?"

She looked up at Bulma, who was getting ready to leave the room.

"Would you be so kind as to get me the laser box from Trunks' rooms? You know what I mean, the tiny black box that goes with the big one I have here." She held up a black, seemingly plastic box about the size of a computer. "He dragged it there when he was working on something or other and hasn't returned it."

Pan opened her mouth to answer, but Bulma already nodded thankfully. "Great. I'll be in the labs, you'll know where to find me." With that she exited.

Pan stared after her. "Great," she muttered. She knew that when Trunks started working on an invention, he made such a mess that even he himself could not find anything back. She would probably be digging around for hours.

With a sigh she pulled herself up and made for the demi-Saiyan's rooms. She did owe Bulma something for the free meal.

*^*^*^*^*

Muttering to herself, she rummaged about in the room that she called Trunks' lab. It wasn't a laboratory, but whenever he worked on something by himself, he did it here. Unfortunately, that meant that the room was stuffed with material, tools and a lot of trash. Finding the laser box took longer than she had expected, partially because she did not really remember what it actually looked like.

A door behind her opened and closed.

"Pan?!"

She rolled her eyes, purposefully ignoring the way her heartbeat sped up at the sound of his voice, and slowly turned around.

He took her breath away. She had not in the least been prepared for seeing Trunks and she felt that, if possible, he had gotten even more attractive in the past five days. He was wearing black jeans and a tank top that showed off his powerful frame all too well. The electric light shimmered over his tan skin and pale lavender hair, highlighting the sharp lines of his face. His eyes were wide, his gaze roaming her body as her gaze was his.

She snapped out of her stupor, remembering how to breathe, and self-consciously fingered the T-shirt she was wearing. It was a stretch shirt, sure, but nothing as form-fitting as the one she had worn when clubbing, and the shorts she wore were old and ragged. He had seen her like this a thousand times before. Why was he looking at her like that now?

He finally seemed to have caught himself. She could see the mask slip over his face, his jaw relaxing, his eyes turning cool and arrogant. "Pan," he repeated, much more collected.

She ripped her gaze away from him and looked out of the window. The twilight began to gather, but the moon had not risen yet.

There was still time.

She looked back at him, her gaze searching his face. "Bra hadn't mentioned you were back," she said, keeping her voice emotionless.

"Strange," he replied, his voice just as cool as hers. "I wonder why she'd do that."

She wanted to be mad at him; to shout at him, hit him, refuse to speak to him until he got down on his knees and begged her for forgiveness. He did not deserve anything less. Somehow, though, being close him made any feeling other than desire disappear to the background. How could she think about anything other than how much she wanted him when he smelled so good?

She stepped closer to him and grinned when he, almost unconsciously, stepped back. So he was still afraid of her. Good.

"How was your business trip?" she asked, her voice sugary sweet. She kept her gaze fixed on his face, trying to see through his mask, but he had too much of his father's blood to let it slip now.

He did not even have the courtesy to look embarrassed. "It was okay, though a bit shorter than planned," he answered her, smiling so coldly that it should have chilled her. For some reason though, his cold, collective demeanor was more thrilling than a tender voice and a friendly look could ever be. This was no mere man that she was playing with; this was a prince, a Saiyan, a warrior in every way that counted.

She stepped forward again, so close now that she could touch him if she wanted to. His body heat teased her bare limbs and his scent washed over her, numbing her brain. She had only one conscious thought in her mind - no more games. Playtime was over.

Taking a last step she pushed him against the closed door, molding her body to his. Satisfied she watched as his mask crumbled, his eyes becoming dark with desire, his mouth opening in an inaudible gasp. Wasting no time she pulled his head down and crushed her lips against his.

The original plan was that she simply would not give him any time to think. However, the drawback of this scheme was that her mind completely shut down the moment he touched her back.

Had she been able to produce coherent thoughts, she would have been surprised that he yielded to her. Trunks Vegeta Briefs did not lose bets if he could help it. His self control was great when necessary, especially when his pride was at stake.

However, neither of them remembered that as they staggered blindly through the 'lab' to his bedroom, never breaking the incredibly heated kiss. His hands roamed her body as she tugged violently at his tank top. How dare it be in her way? She ripped it clean off his body and dragged her mouth away from his lips to kiss down his neck. He growled and forcefully pulled her T-shirt over her arms and head, for a moment completely breaking skin contact. It did not break the spell however and she grabbed for him, biting down on his neck hard. If she drew blood, neither of them noticed. They had finally reached the bed and he threw her down on it, following suit.

His aggressive behavior should have frightened or perhaps angered her, but it didn't. Never before had she been so aroused and everything he did only succeeded in turning her on more.

He was pressing her down on the bed, his body heavy on hers and his hands touching her everywhere and in all the right places. She could not keep herself from moaning at his administrations and tried to keep her mind at the task at hand. His pants were very much in the way and they needed to get off, now. She had never been a patient girl and, not caring that she was decimating his wardrobe at an alarming rate, ripped off this offending piece of clothing as well.

Had he been more sober, he might have been peeved that she ruined a perfect pair of trousers. As it were, he seemed just as relieved to lose the restrictive garment as her.

Her bra had been shredded long before and now it was him who tugged on her shorts, even now more considerate than she was and not simply ripping it off. Their gazes locked and the look in his eyes took her breath away. His eyes were passionate and wild and never before had she seen him slip off his mask so completely.

The words just slipped out of her mouth. "God, I love you Trunks, I love you so much." It was too hoarse, too silent for him to catch it. He claimed her lips again in a searing kiss, working her shorts over her hips.

"Oh my God!" The last word was shrieked, loud enough to pull even them from their passion-filled clouds. Trunks jerked back and ungracefully tumbled off her, his cheeks flushing and eyes widening in shock and embarrassment.

Bulma was standing in the doorway, looking completely perplexed. She was, however, unfortunately not one of those people that were struck silent in bewilderment.

"Oh my God," she repeated, just as loud. "My God! Pan! Trunks! You - Pan, does your father know about this?!"

Pan scrambled backwards on the bed, utterly horrified. Not even looking at Trunks she pulled up her shorts, made a dive for her T-shirt and exited through the open window, too fast for human eyes to follow.

Pale moonlight washed over her as she seared through the night.

She had lost the bet.

~*^*#$#*^*~

AN: *smirks*

...

*frantically waves arms at readers who walk away from YWBM, thorouhly disappointed* Hey, come back here! This is not over yet! I promise there'll be more (at least a few chapters!). This is one story I'm not going to abandon.

Despite the fact that I'm very busy with classes, I managed to finish this rather quickly. *shakes fist at readers* damn you for guilt-tripping me into writing instead of doing school assignments! (not that *I* mind... but my teachers for some weird reason do)

Thank you all for the lovely reviews you left me so far. I appreciate your feedback so much :) *hands out Trunks clones to everybody*