Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ You Will Be Mine ❯ Before this night is through ( Chapter 9 )

Chapter 9

Before this night is through

Once again Pan found herself hovering over Capsule Corps, indecisive and insecure.

Bra was on her side again, somewhat, but she knew she had to confront Bulma sooner or later and if she were out of luck, as she seemed to be, she would probably run into Vegeta as well. And then there was Trunks.

Marron was right, of course. She was kidding herself, had been so ever since Trunks had made it clear he did not want her, not like she wanted him. She had been lying to herself because she could not bear to admit her total failure.

When they had made the bet, she had not known what exactly she wanted from him. Her primary goal had been simply to sate the lust she had felt for so long. However, this month had proved that that would not be enough.

She wanted him in every way she could think of, no matter how hard she tried to hate him. No matter how much she did hate him. She wanted him, body and mind, forever for herself. She wanted to screw him senseless and bear his children and she wanted him never to look at another woman again and she was willing to kill for what she wanted.

She was not ready for those feelings and she definitely was not ready for the fulfilment of those desires. She was only twenty. She was still in college. Lust she knew, lust she could deal with, but these other emotions were too new, too alien -

"Damnit," she hissed under her breath, glaring in the direction of Vegeta's ki. Despite the fact that she was only a quarter Saiyan, everything always came down to her being an alien. "We don't want to play with you, you freak". "I'm just not comfortable with a girl who can beat me up if she wants to." "You want a mate and your instincts will drive you to the lowest of low to get him."

With a resigned sigh she floated down. She would seek the Saiyan prince out later. First things first.

######

"Oh, Pan, don't be so embarrassed," Bulma said, apparently barely able to keep from grinning like a madman.

Pan did not know where to look. "But weren't you-" she stammered.

Bulma was still smiling. "Yes, I was shocked. And I won't say it was a wise thing to do, nor do I advise you to continue, but it happens to the best of us."

Blushing furiously, Pan waved her hand and laughed sheepishly. Either Bulma meant being walked in on or being too horny to be careful and she did not want to envision Bulma in either of those situations.

The blue-haired woman's expression sobered. "I assume you're here to discuss -" she raised her eyebrows suggestively "- that with Trunks?" At Pan's nervous nod, Bulma gave her a motherly smile. "Don't worry, he knows he was out of line."

Pan suppressed a sigh. He had been out of line? Ha, if anything, he was going to point out exactly how she had been out of line. "Thanks, Bulma. I'm sorry for scaring you like that," she said, blushing again.

Bulma smiled at her. "Don't worry about it. Go talk to Trunks, he's in his rooms somewhere."

Pan nodded and fled.

######

With another deep sigh Pan pushed open the door, stepping into Trunks' small living room. He had an entire apartment inside the big dome, although he barely spent any time here. He was too lazy to cook for himself and too fond of his family to hide in here, so whenever he stayed over at Capsule Corps., he hung about in the big family kitchen.

She glanced at the window. The sun was setting, like the last time she was here. She did not appreciate the irony.

She hated him. She did not like admitting that he could hurt her, that he had hurt her, but it was the truth and she hated him for that. Nobody was supposed to be able to hurt her, least of all emotionally.

She was proud of being a Saiyan, but her mixed blood had cost her much. Although her family and their close friends had always been loving and supporting, most other people had not. Growing up as a freak or at the very least as an outsider had made her wary of people, even her friends. She simply did not give anybody the opportunity to hurt her.

When the bet was made, she had not thought she had given him that opportunity. She had trusted their friendship, but it had turned out to be a lousy safety net in this madness. In his eyes, she had probably kicked the solid foundation of that friendship from under his feet, shifting his world a full hundred-and-eighty degrees. They had always depended on each other, had always been there for each other, and now he probably thought that their friendship meant nothing more to her than a way into his bed.

That did not make her any less furious with him, however. He should have known. He should have seen. He of all people should have understood her, even when she turned his world upside down. He of all people should not have hurt her.

Trunks stepped out of his bathroom, his hair wet, old jeans hanging low on his hips, a towel on his neck. She forced herself not to stare at him, refused to notice how the orange light of the setting sun highlighted every line and bulge of his finely toned body.

"You have the uncanny ability to arrive just when I'm showering," he said, his voice low and impossibly casual.

"It's the only time I can stand the smell of you," she quipped, amazed at her own ability to act as if nothing had happened. The sight of him invoked so many conflicting emotions in her, but the only one she could express without losing any more of her self-respect, was anger or that arrogant amusement that he was so fond of.

He smirked at her. "Is that so?"

She rolled her eyes.

He gave her a long look. "I'm surprised you're even showing your face," he said eventually. "I thought you'd drop me a message with the where and when of my date with Marron and then stay out of sight for the next few months."

She glared at him, her anger returning tenfold. How dare he? How could he be so horribly arrogant and selfish and mean, such a complete and utter asshole? Did he not know he was hurting her with every word he said, everything he did? Did he not care?

"Well, yeah, that's the problem - Marron obviously realised what an ass you are, so she refuses to go out with you," she spat.

For a moment he looked at her, his eyes wide, his mouth slightly open. Well, that had come unexpected.

"Yes, that's right, despite what you think not everybody likes you," she said cruelly. "In fact, hardly anybody likes you for you. And considering that you're a fucking bastard, I think you deserve it."

His eyes had narrowed to slits and she knew she was treading on dangerous ground, but she did not care.

"You're hardly in the right position to be calling me names," he said, his voice cold. "Go home, little girl. You've had your game. You lost."

"Not because of you," she said, furiously. "How dare you - after all of this, how could you -"

"How could I? Not everything is about you, Pan!" he snapped, his eyes blazing. "How could you?! How could you drop this on me, messing everything up just when Katu and I were starting to work out?!"

Her mouth dropped open. "What?"

He brought a hand to his forehead, wiping his wet hair back with a sigh. "Katu. She's my girlfriend."

"What?" she repeated, almost inaudible.

"We've only been going out for two months. I hadn't mentioned her yet because-" He looked at her, but she avoided his eyes. "For once, I actually liked this girl. A lot."

He started to move to her, but her head snapped up and in a low tone she hissed: "Don't - come - any closer."

With something in between a sob and a snarl she turned on her heels and stormed off.

######

"Running away again?"

Pan twirled around. Through an open door on her right she saw Vegeta standing in a rather empty room, decorated with only a few couches, a few plants and a few tables. She supposed it was a waiting-room of some sorts for Capsule Corps. clients, which raised the question of what the hell the Saiyan prince was doing there. She felt bad enough without having to face him.

"I am so not in the mood for you," she snapped.

Vegeta laughed at that, a short but genuine laugh that surprised her so much that she temporarily forgot about her anger.

"Hormones playing up, huh," he smirked.

"I wish that was it," she muttered, sighing deeply. Suddenly the tears she had been keeping back were threatening to spill. She bit her lip, refusing to break down in front of Vegeta. She did not cry over guys, especially not in front of their father.

With another sigh she stepped into the room, closing the door behind her.

A shiver ran down her spine as Vegeta looked at her intently, his dark eyes narrowed but not exactly glaring. She had always been wary of the man - he was a wild animal, a dangerous predator under a thin coat of civility. She was not so much afraid of him, though, as she was afraid of how easily she could be exactly like him. Her father and grandfather were more human than not, except for their fighting. She was more Saiyan than either of them, and that unnerved her.

He stepped closer and breathed in deeply, and that unnerved her more.

He was the first to break the awkward silence. "You're not strong enough to claim him as your mate." His voice was calm, almost cool when he said it and he was still not quite glaring.

She balled her fists. "I'm a fucking super Saiyan," she replied, angrily.

"I wasn't talking about your power level," he snapped back, once more glaring at her. "Are you strong enough to make him yours, to fight for him, to fight with him, in different ways than you're used to?"

"What do you think I've been doing?!" she growled. Oh, she hated that arrogant, better-than-thou expression of his, the same one his son wore all too often. Whoever thought up that princes were be the most desirable men of the bunch must have been high. No money or power could make that royal arrogance bearable.

He looked at her, the expression on his face changing back to almost solemn. "You've been letting him slip through your fingers every time you had him."

She did not even wonder how he knew; maybe he did not, maybe he was just a good guesser. Maybe he saw or maybe drew the right conclusion from a lot of small hints. He was far more observant than anyone she knew and the fact that he normally did not use his knowledge, let alone flaunt it in front of other people, meant that this whole mess between her and Trunks was more important to him than he let on. However, that did not make his statement any less demeaning. What was his problem, anyway? If this was not even Bra's business, then it sure as hell wasn't her father's.

"I've not been letting him 'slip through my fingers'," she said, frustrated. "Either he left or someone else came in between."

"You let him go. You ran away every time you had a chance of succeeding," he replied, almost haughtily. "You're terrified. You're not strong enough to claim him."

Only the memory of their last fight kept her from flying at his throat. She was not afraid. She was not weak. "Well, not much chance of any mating now, anyway," she spat. "Apparently he's got a girlfriend and apparently he's quite smitten with her."

He almost seemed surprised at that, but recovered quickly enough, shooting her a glare. "She's human. You're Saiyan."

"Like that's all that matters," she huffed.

"It should be."

"Don't be so damned vague!" she shouted. "Can't you for once stop hinting and flat out tell me what the hell you mean?"

He stared at her, his eyes narrowed, only the hint of a frown on his brow. She noticed almost absent-mindedly that he was remarkably patient with her; any other day he would have finished her off with a scathing remark and walked away long before. She shrugged it off though, blaming it on the prince's unpredictable moods. The man had done stranger things to get what he wanted.

"Fine," he said finally, speaking carefully. "You're a Saiyan female in heat. No Saiyan male is immune to that unless he is bonded or you are."

She sighed, suddenly almost listless. "Why now? I've been full-grown for years, but this has never happened before."

He smirked at her. "It might not have been so strong, but it has. And, of course, your human blood and upbringing mess up normal Saiyan reactions."

"So I am looking for a mate, someone to bond with?" she asked, wiping her hair from her face.

He snorted. "That much should be obvious."

She chewed on the insides of her cheeks. When they were young teens, Bra had told her about the Saiyan bond. At first it had seemed a ridiculously romantic idea to her. Why would such an animalistic race as the Saiyans have an in-built till-death-do-us-part? But Bra, apparently having asked the same thing to her father, had explained it to her. Fighting was in their blood, she had said, and nothing short of a bond could keep a Saiyan from fighting long enough to successfully breed. Only a bond could get a female to let herself get pregnant and only a bond could get a male to feed and protect her and her children. Bonding was the only way to be guaranteed of offspring that would live. That had killed the romance well enough.

Pan had not for a moment thought the theory was implausible; her own grandfather was proof. Painful enough proof. She never doubted that he loved Chi-Chi, that he loved his sons and that he loved her, but it had never been enough to keep him home.

Only then one of his previous remarks seemed to hit home. "Any Saiyan male?" she blurted out, her eyes wide.

"Don't worry, I'm sure your family has too much human blood to feel it." Vegeta gave her a malicious grin and she swallowed, suddenly aware of just how close he was standing. His presence was, in a way, just as overwhelming as Trunks', his ki high enough that she could feel it prickle on her skin, his scent washing over her as he stood almost close enough to touch. His eyes were very dark as he stared at her, as dark as hers. Saiyan eyes.

Her mouth went dry. She did not want to think about him like that. This was Vegeta, for heaven's sake, and he was the last, the very last -

With a snarl he turned around and stalked to the door. She stared after him. "Vegeta?"

He stopped. "What?"

"Are you and Bulma bonded?"

He did not turn around. "Don't be stupid. She's human."

She watched him as he exited the room, slamming the door behind him, and stared at the dark wood for a long time after that.

~*#$^*#$#*^$#*~

AN: #laughs maniacally# Don't kill me yet, I'll make up for this chapter. Somewhat.

Okay, ff.net is killing the asterisks and completely messing up the layout. I changed it, but I don't know if it'll actually show up. If it doesn't, I'll change it tomorrow. #mutters under her breath#

Ahem, sorry for the cursing in this chapter and the last. Pan doesn't strike me as the type to shout "Frigging heck!" and "Darn!" Actually, I don't think any of the next generation would.

Yes, in Toriyama's tradition, the name Katu is a play on something. No symbolism or foreshadowing, though, just a mere play of words. It's an understatement to say I'm not fond of symbolism.

Dear god, this story is more than a year old! I think that certainly shows #sweatdrops# Some day I'll rewrite the first chapters.

Once again betaed by the lovely Noseless Wonder. All mistakes are to be blamed on her #grin#