The ride to the banquet was a quiet one, everyone laughing and talking about the last party Bulma had thrown, all hoping that tonight's party would be just as good as all the rest.
But it wasn't that pretty a seating arrangement.
Thinking it'd be cute-and not entirely sure of what had happened the night before-Bulma had placed her son next to Pan. On Pan's other side sat Bra, biting her tongue, not about to mention the fact that they'd make a cute couple.
And across from them, sat Gohan.
"So, Pan," Bulma said from where she sat wedged next to Vegeta and Gohan. She tried to avoid her son's eyes, and still keep a wary and worried eye on him at the same time. "How did things go last night?"
Trunks nearly gagged again, turning his head and coughing violently. Pan turned and looked at him.
He didn't look well to her, his face was pale, his eyes dark and haunted...his eyes made her think of the picture her father had of Mirai Trunks, but why should he have the haunted and dead-on-top eyes of his parallel timeline counterpart?
But he still looked good, she had to admit that. The careless way in which he was dressed was enough to make most girls faint. The mussed look to his hair would drive any girl crazy.
But Pan wasn't any girl, she'd grown up with him, knew how to hide her feelings around him. And besides, she didn't like him like that anyways, that had just been a silly crush. He was too good a friend to lose...if she hadn't already.
"Pan?" Bulma repeated, noticing the flicker of guilt that passed across the girl's eyes.
"Oh! Yeah, sorry Bulma." She blushed, then glanced again at Trunks. Reluctantly, he settled back into the seat, wedging himself once again between her and ChiChi. "Well...if you ever want to take Trunks to Juno's again, you'll have to buy the restaurant, he and I kinda got banned. For life."
Bulma nodded, her eyes twinkling.
Pan knew the twinkle, and Trunks did too. They ignored it.
"After dinner, we didn't know what to do, 'cause we still had about a year and a half to catch up on, and it was early anyways, so we..." She trailed off, turning to look at Trunks. "You know, you have a mouth and you have a voice. You can help."
He ignored her, his arms crossed over his chest, eyes closed.
Damn he looked like Vegeta.
It looked good on him.
She sighed, shaking her head.
"Ok...to make a long story short, 'cause I don't wan to get into it and he is obviously not going to help, we went to the beach, talked, made up constellations, and then he brought me home."
Bulma raised an eyebrow, then looked at her son, meeting his eyes. He glared back, daring her to say what she thought.
"Pan, I get the feeling something happened between 'made up constellations' and 'he brought me home', am I right?"
She sighed. "Yeah..." Trunks stiffened-not visibly, but being crammed next to him was enough to tell her-obviously afraid of what she'd say. Pan started to tighten her hands into fists, but then stopped herself, forcing her hands open. "When I was in California, I really didn't know anybody there at first, most people were afraid of me. And I went to the beach one night, listened to the waves, looked up at the stars, and I saw this one star, and I swear to Dende with every fiber of my being, that the star is Grandpa Goku's. I..." She paused, her cheek twitching. Next to her, she could feel Trunk's fingers twitching against her arm.
"Pan?"
She looked down at her hands, seeing them bleeding again. Gingerly, careful not to get blood on her skirt, she reached into her cargo pocket, pulling out a pair of fingerless gloves she had once worn as religiously as the bandana that she had never been seen without. Pulling them on, wondering at the fact that they still fit, she forced herself to relax back into the seat.
"I guess I just got lost in the past...I'm part human, I'm female, I'm susceptible to these types of things...I guess I just wanted a hug."
"Pan?" This came from not only Bulma, but Gohan. Both looked from her to Trunks, who was trying to remain oblivious, but was obviously edgy under Gohan's scrutinizing gaze.
"Not in that way," she growled, narrowing her eyes at them. They jumped back. "Not like—like—that!"
Gohan relaxed, Bulma sat back in the seat. Trunks opened his eyes and gazed at her in wonder.
"Like a hug. You know-brother-sister, best friend-best friend. Not, not-"
"That," Trunks supplied, readjusting himself in the seat and closing his eyes again.
"Yeah, now you speak."
The limo driver hit a bump about this time, sending those in the back scattered about the seats. Bra wound up on the floor, Bulma clinging to Vegeta who hadn't moved at all. Videl grabbed Gohan, who remained in place for the most part. ChiChi had ended up knocking into Trunks, who, like his father, hadn't moved in the least, had only opened his eyes and dropped his arms.
Pan found herself in Trunks lap, an arm wrapped around his shoulders holding herself in place, her legs approximately where they had been to begin with.
Trunks looked at her curiously. Blushing a crimson envious of Bra's dress, Pan attempted to get back to her seat, but Bulma dropped her feet in her path.
"You know what I want, you two?"
"What?" they mumbled, both blushing on the verge of violet by now, well aware of how they must look, her sitting on his lap, an arm over his shoulders, his arms around her waist.
"Grandchildren."
Pan couldn't get back to her seat fast enough, Trunks couldn't get her off his lap fast enough.
Everyone else was in hysterics by the time they had finally separated from each other, their faces dropping to a much safer tint then bloody-bruise.
"Ha ha ha," Trunks snapped, crossing his arms again.
"I didn't say it," Bra replied, settling back next to Pan, who looked about to kill something.
"Young man, you are 34. I expected to have you married and with children by now," Bulma joked.
His eyes flew open, angry and dark.
"Oh, so now you're planning my social life as well as my career. Gee Mother dear, you're so very thoughtful."
Everyone stared at him. They'd never heard him take up this tone with his mother before, and had never expected to hear him take it.
"Trunks, that's not what I meant," she argued, trying to stand her ground. "I just meant that...well...I know you saiyans don't age as much as the rest of the world...but I would like to be around to see my son married, at least."
He snorted.
"I wouldn't be surprised to hear that you've had wedding plans formed for me and someone since I was five. Not surprised at all. You seem to enjoy making my life hell, so why wouldn't you have had the rest of my life ruined as well?"
"Trunks, I just meant that-"
"Oh well what you meant, Mother dear. I could care less. I really could. Why not just go along with you? Be the timid little doormat I've been all my life? I might as well just-"
"Are you going through a midlife crisis or something, Pretty boy, or do you enjoy pissing off your mother?"
Trunks' face fell and went blank. He turned to look at Pan, who had her arms crossed over her chest and was glaring at him. He could only stare at her. Slowly, he unfolded his arms, dropping them into his lap.
"Seriously, are you going through a midlife crisis? Or are you trying to make up for putting your pride aside for five seconds last night?"
"Wha-what do you mean?" he choked out, staring at her. The limo came to a stop.
"Just that you have been an asshole ever since you dropped me off last night."
And with that, she climbed over him and out the door.