Awkward my ass.
She groaned and dropped the heavy stack of papers, reports, and manila folders on the table.
It'd be awkward alright, if he weren't too busy keeping me out of his sight.
Grinding her teeth, she cracked her knuckles, closing her eyes angrily, then opening them again and forcefully sorting through the pile, papers to the left, reports to the right, everything else in the middle.
She could feel his eyes on her back, as if he were debating over whether to kill her or not.
Only 11:36 in the morning, nothing accomplished, and he has done nothing but stomp on my pride. Yeah, like I really wanted to agree to that damned "we'll both be who we really are" bullshit that he "proposed" earlier...proposed my ass, he shoved it down my throat!
Furious, she slammed a 268 page report onto the table, making the floor shudder.
"We'll just be us. Just who we've both hidden from the world, Panny. We don't have to pretend anymore!" she mimicked quietly, nose wrinkled, eyes narrowed, her voice high and surreally enthusiastic.
She slammed another report onto the table. The table split down the middle upon contact, papers flying into the air, falling around her like rain. She reached out a hand to swipe at the papers, only to slice open the palm of her hand.
"Shit!" she cursed silently, eyes tearing from the sharp and annoying stinging, from the lack-luster and humiliating day she'd already experienced. Grinding her teeth, she clenched her fist, careful to keep her nails from her skin.
She stumbled backwards blindly, only to freeze as strong hands lighted on her shoulders.
"Pan, let me see."
She jerked away from him like a child would, stubbornly holding her hand away from him, forcing back the annoying waves of burning that shot up through her hand, intending to head to the ladies' room and stop the bleeding.
She heard him sigh half a heartbeat before an arm snaked itself around her stomach, pulling her back against a very hard, very warm, very comfortable chest that rose and fell gently and rhythmically. His other arm found her own; strong and gentle fingers firmly grasped her wrist, squeezing, forcing open her fist.
"Trunks, I am perfectly capable of-"
His hand forced hers around, turning her palm towards them, and she felt his breath catch. She tried to force her fingers closed, but his voice was in her ear. His thumb pushed her fingers back.
"I still don't know if I should worry or feel guilty about the fact that these haven't healed yet." His voice was low in timbre, his thumb gracing over the four half-healed crescent-shaped wounds on the palm of her hand.
Pan ground her teeth, jerking away from him. Using her ki, she shoved the whole mess of papers and reports into an unstable pile, grabbed it, and stormed out of the office and down the hall.
She'd had just about enough of him for one lifetime. All morning-"here, let me help you with that," "Pan, are you sure you're ok with this?" "Pan, could you-"
"Argh!"
With a cry of exasperation, she tripped over a worker and tumbled forward into the Xerox machine.
The worker scuttled quickly away, blinding running into others, unable to see through blond bangs. She'd heard cries like that from the company president, and knew better then to stick around.
"Sorry!" she cried as she retreated in a hasty getaway.
Pan lay on her stomach, unmoving atop a crushed mountain of papers now soiled with blood. Her nose was pointed towards the Xerox machine, her arms outstretched toward it as if she were bowing to an honorable lord.
"Pan?" she heard Trunks say as he came into the room. "Pan, I'm taking my lunch brea-umph!"
Pan sniggered as Trunks toppled over her legs and thundered to the ground, twisting in midair so that he landed on his rear, one leg draped over her hips and lower back, the other propped up on either side of her now extended legs.
"Pan?" he groaned, propping himself up on his elbows, looking at her to make sure she wasn't hurt.
She rolled over, pushing herself up onto her hands, blushing as she saw how his bangs had skittered akimbo across his face.
Damn...he looks so hot when he's the biggest bastard on Earth. I guess that's what comes when you're literally the spawn of evil.
"Pan?"
She giggled, dismissing her thoughts.
"So you've fallen for me! Now I get it!"
Trunks looked at her blankly before the joke registered. His eyes closed and he laughed, his voice and face belying his thirteen year head start on life.
"Well, it's kinda hard not to with legs like yours!"
She glowered at the rebuttal.
Swiftly and deadly, her hand rose and glissed across his side. He shifted away, tackling her, tickling her.
Employees looked on with curious and envious gazes as they passed, watching the young company president and his new assistant struggle, he straddling her waist, she on her stomach trying to crawl away through the laughter.
Trunks leaned down, catching her arms, whispering thickly into her ear, trying to subdue his laughter as she squirmed beneath him, her sides heaving with honest-to-Dende laughter. "Think you're ready to get to work yet, Miss Son? Or do I have to beat you into submission?" His voice was low again, sultry and playful, almost with a hint of pleading. Without awaiting an answer, her stood, leaving her prostrate before the copy machine as he gathered her scattered paperwork.
Pan grinned, looking up at the machine before her.
Awkward my ass! This'll be a blast!!!