Pan stared after him. He had managed to calm down, but had suddenly gotten angry again.
What the hell had happened to him?
"With Capsule Corps' new and improved super compact capsules..."
Pan could only stare at him. How the hell did he do it? Twenty minutes ago he'd been a complete ass that had been too busy bitching out his mother and bruising her arm to think about anything but himself. Now, he was Mr. President, the leader of Capsule Corps, and the most wanted man in the world.
How did he do it?
She sighed, pushing her way through the crowd to escape Trunks' bullshit and get some fresh air. A few guys whistled at her in her parting, earning an, "Ahem. May I ask you 4 back there to keep your comments about the pretty girl to yourselves? Thank you."
Blushing, Pan forced her way into the back lobby, where only select members of the community were allowed-her family and Trunks'.
"Dende, how does he do it?" she asked the walls.
"I could care less about how he does it, I just want to know what happened to him."
Pan blinked, noticing that she wasn't alone. Bulma sat in the corner, wiping her eyes with her hands, trying to keep her from knowing she was crying.
"Bulma? What's wrong?"
"I was about to ask you the same thing."
Confused, Pan walked to the older woman, sitting down next to her on the couch, pulling the bandana out of her hair, letting it fall to her shoulders, and handing it to her blue-haired companion, letting her wipe her eyes properly.
"Bulma, what do you mean, ask me the same thing?"
Bulma sighed, wringing the blue square in her hands.
"I just get the feeling that you know what's eating him. The fact that you had as great an effect on him in the limo is testament to that...what happened to him Pan? Please tell me you know."
Pan saw the hopeful glimmer in Bulma's eyes, heard the hope in her voice. She lowered her face, checking to make sure that there was no one else in the room.
"I'm not entirely sure, Bulma, but I know it's tied to me...because he wasn't like this last night when he picked me up..."
"What happened last night? Why's he acting like he is?"
Pan sighed again, pulling off her gloves, looking at the now scarred wounds. They just wouldn't heal, but had finally closed...perhaps they had finally started to heal.
Mentally, she kicked herself, kicked herself for being so stupid as to think he had changed, to think that he'd be mature enough to see what she'd grown into, to think that he'd be mature enough to take a relationship seriously. Physically, she clenched her hands into fists inside of her overly-long sleeves, ignoring the pain as her nails popped through her flesh.
Or maybe she still had to pick off the scab, admit that it really did hurt.
"I...I'm not sure, but I think he's afraid that I'm going to tell my father about something that shouldn't have happened last night."
"What?"
Pan looked up at Bulma, and decided that it was time to tear the head off of the scab.
"You were right...there was more that I left out...completely innocent at the time and looking back at it...but if my father found out, he'd have Trunks in a noose. And me locked up for the rest of my life..." She paused, looking down at the four crescent shaped scabs on each hand. "A little while after he cheered me up about Grandpa Goku, Trunks got quiet...said something about his other half being taken away four years ago, and returned to him not long back. I assumed that he...well, yeah..."
She paused, blinking back tears, listening to Trunks drone on in the conference room, checking once again to make sure her father wasn't near. He wasn't.
"I guess he kinda forgot that he used to baby-sit me and all...for just a minute. He kissed me...and I kissed back...and that was all that happened...but my dad wouldn't believe that, not with Trunks' reputation with women, and not with all of the surprises I keep bringing up about my time in California...and Trunks knows that as well as I...I'm just scared he and I ruined our friendship...which is why I blew up at Bra...but he's...I think he's afraid I'm going to run to my father, tell him everything. I don't know...I think there's more then that...but I can't see what it is for the life of me..."
Pan blinked again, tightening her hands into fists, trying not to admit to herself that Trunks had really hurt her, that she'd been in denial ever since she had awakened that morning.
Suddenly, an arm slid across her shoulders, gripping her own, a comforting touch that Pan had felt probably once in her life. She turned her head, found Bulma giving her a half hug, assuring her and assuring herself at the same time.
Pan smiled and reached up, gripping Bulma's hand.
"I won't tell," Bulma whispered. "As much to save my son from your father's wrath, as to leave you with a sense of security."
Pan grinned. "Thanks Bulma, for listening..."
"Thank you, Panny...for trusting me, and for letting me know what's wrong with my son." She handed the bandana back to her younger companion.
"But-Bulma, it's not-no, I said 'I think'...Bulma!"
But Bulma had already stood and gone.