Grinding her teeth, she wound the medical tape around her wrist, wrapping it up and across her palm, between her thumb and index finger. She drew it along the back of her hand, around to the palm, across and to the back again, this time under her thumb, and around her wrist again, repeating the process with slow and mechanical movements; covering the wounds on her palm as easily as braiding hair.
She quickly and skillfully tied the ends together, tucking them flat under the layers across her wrist. Replacing the extra tape in the first aid kit on the counter, she finally let a shiver run through her.
She tried not to notice the blood seeping through to turn the stark white wrapping a sick rust color. The last thing she wanted was to think about the wounds on her palm.
"Hello, Miss Son," said a worker in parting as she dried her hands. Pan didn't miss the sarcastic enthusiasm and inane jealousy that filled the girl's voice, even over the hand dryer. She pretended she did.
"Hello."
Pan watched her leave, shaking loose droplets from her hands. She waited for the door to click closed behind her; the moment the girl was gone, Pan slumped forward onto the counter, gripping at her hair with her hands, clutching it in bunches by her temples.
She was so utterly confused.
If her father knew what had happened-any little part of what had happened-that night...if Gohan knew the real reason he had taken her to bed...Pan didn't want to know what he'd do. It wouldn't be pleasant, that would be for sure. Vegeta was already facing death-by-angry Gohan for saying all that he had. Trunks was seriously in over his head as it was. If Gohan knew what she did, Trunks would be planning his own funeral.
Pan dropped her hair back around her face, rubbing her forehead and eyes.
She didn't want to see Trunks die, hell, she didn't want to see him get hurt. Though part of her hated him for what he'd done, and an even greater part of her wanted his head on a stick for what he hadn't done, he was still her best friend. He was still Trunks, still that purple-headed hottie that she had lusted after throughout high school. He was still her responsibility to protect from her father.
Blowing recently feathered bangs out of her eyes, Pan pushed herself back up, rubbing at her face, dropping her hands to lay flat on the countertop, looking upward and straightening her body into a slightly backwards arch. She stood there for a moment, on tiptoe, chest pushed forward, back arched in, hands flat, arms rigid and elbows locked slightly in front of her as she pushed herself upwards.
Trunks was off on his lunch break. She'd assured him that she wasn't hungry, not really, and he'd immediately pinned it for what it was.
She was still upset over his father's words.
Fighter bitch in heat...
She rolled her shoulders forward and dropped her head. Damn him. Did he really think that just because he was the prince of a nearly extinct race, he had the right to be a bastard?
She shook her head, unable to meet her eyes in the mirror before her. She turned on the tap, cupping her right hand under the cool stream, catching the water. She gazed into the small pool that formed in her palm, gazing through the clear water to the practically healed wounds. Shaking her head, she ducked, splashing the water onto her face, washing away the lingering black lines from her tears, hoping to wash away the weariness, trying uselessly to wash away the fever.
Drying her face and hand, she gathered the first aid kit and moved back into the hall after finger brushing her hair into place.
Trunks was down at the end of the hall, a plastic bag full of greasy cheeseburgers and even greasier french fries dangling in his hand, talking to one of the female workers.
"It's not permanent....no, Ms. Haruna will be returning....she's a good friend....Shouldn't you be working and not socializing?....heh heh...yes, well..."
She ignored his voice and simply walked down the hall, wishing she didn't have to hear or witness his flirting with the girl.
"Pan? Pan!"
She froze, caught like a child sneaking from the kitchen with a pocketful of stolen cookies, and turned back, forcing herself to act surprised to find him back-and with food yet!
"Trunks? I thought you went to lunch?"
"I did," he laughed, steering through the sudden wave of employees and snagging her elbow, navigating through the flood of females. "But I just got it to go. I don't care if you're hungry or not, you're eating if I have anything to do with it."
"Make me."
Trunks sniggered, leaning close to her ear, his lips brushing the tender and often sunburned skin.
"Wrong answer," he whispered, his voice as low and as seductive as she had ever heard it. An arm wrapped around her waist and lifted her completely off the ground, holding her against his hip as he pushed his way into the reception area to his office, and then into the office itself. Trying not to laugh, Pan tucked up her feet an let herself dangle, her hands clutching his arm, her head tilted forward to see where they were going.
Still carrying her, he dropped the food in the center of the floor.
"Trunks," she laughed, "put me down. I have legs, you know."
She didn't get a response, only got herself dropped into Trunks' swivel chair. He disappeared, and returned with the bag after closing the doors.
"You're going to eat."
"Make me."
"Do I have to?"
Pan suddenly realized that now that he had no reason to not wear his mask around her, he was more then likely completely serious.
"Well, no. You can't. We have work to do. I'd put up a fight and we wouldn't get anything done today at all!" she crowed triumphantly, suddenly seeing a way out.
Trunks unwrapped the greasy burger, waving the synthetic beef under her nose, letting her smell the fat, letting her see the pickles and ketchup and mustard. She ground her teeth, trying to keep down the nausea that the thought of eating brought, and trying to fight back the wave of hunger that the sight and smell of over-priced fast food brought.
"I will make you eat, Panny. If we have to stay until midnight because of it, so be it. I will get food down your throat no matter what I have to do to get it there."
Pan grumbled, pushing herself flush into the back of the deeply padded black chair, bringing her knees up between them, her hands gripping at the arms of the chair. Trunks noted her reaction, and sat down on his desk, moving the food to his side, turning the chair to face him. He planted his feet on either side of her legs and between the arms of the chair, and drew the chair towards him so that his knees dug into the back of it just below her armpits.
He had her pinned. Reluctantly, she lowered her feet to the floor.
If she tried to get up, all he had to do was rock forward and he'd be sitting on her lap. She couldn't escape by going over the sides, his legs blocked that route. If she tried to shimmy out between his legs and crawl away...well...he'd have no shame in straddling her face. He didn't have to do anything to make that entirely clear.
He'd regret it in the end, and he'd know it, but because she'd be using her teeth, he could claim victory. That and it would only give Vegeta more ammunition to throw at her at Bra's party in the upcoming weekend.
She glared at him.
Trunks grinned, dropping the oily wrapper into the trash receptacle off to the side of the big oak desk.
"Hungry yet?" he asked, waving the burger before her eyes.
She continued to glare at him.
He laughed, leaning closer, his face looming in her vision as he brought it uncomfortably close to hers. Not moving the burger, he took a big bite, chewing with his mouth half open and inches away from her own.
"Yum," he stated, his voice almost emotionless-aside from sarcasm, gnashing at the half-chewed meat, speaking skillfully around it. "I don't think I want to share now."
She glared at him as he sat back, eating the rest of the burger, relishing it in front of her. He grabbed another. This burger half gone, he reached into the bag, pulling out a handful of fries, tilting his head back to stuff and fold them into his mouth one at a time.
"You're disgusting."
He looked back down at her, then stuffed his hand back into the bag, and almost sensually yanked it back out, holding a tiny pot of barbeque sauce. He tore the top off with his teeth, leaning forward and dropping it into the garbage can, keeping his burger in one hand, and then set the tiny chamber of meat enhancer next to him.
Pan swallowed thickly, her eyes on the barbeque sauce, but she quickly tore them away to glare at him as he dunked in fries and ate them in the same fashion as the previous handful.
"You know," she stated as he started his third burger, "at this rate, you'll eat it all and I'll win."
Trunks shrugged, talking around an overly large mouthful of food.
"I own the fast food joint this came from. I can have an employee drive more over."
She stubbornly crossed her arms over her chest, glaring at him vindictively.
He grabbed another burger, unwrapped this one more slowly then the others. An aroma of almost-raw meat washed forth from the wrapper. Pan swallowed thickly, eyes glued on the burger as Trunks unwrapped it as if he were taking off his pants. Barbeque sauce dripped from the end into the wrapper, which he held beneath it.
Her stomach growled, angry with her point-making fast, and she cursed it. Trunks didn't miss the rumble. He leaned forward, holding the burger between them almost as an offering, but then leaned down his head and took a bite.
Pan watched as he swallowed, savoring the raw flavor. He knew barbeque sauce and almost-completely raw meat were her weak spots. He smirked as she sat up, dropping her arms to her sides, and then leaned slowly down to take another bite.
Just as his lips pulled back for his teeth to sink into beefy heaven, Pan shot forward, grabbing both sides of the burger, one hand lacing over his, her mouth tearing away the bite he had intended to take. She sat on her heals on the very edge of the chair, her knees pressed against his inner thighs for balance. As her teeth sank into the artificial cow muscle, she became aware of the fact that the side of his mouth was pressed against the side of her own, the end of his nose in the corner of hers, and the end of hers in the corner of his. She blinked, letting her teeth sink completely through and tear away the meat.
Trunks tore away his own bite, and sat back, relinquishing the burger, letting her sit back into the chair like a cat with a kill, watching in wonder and interest as she slowly ate, her eyes darting back to glance at him through the corner of her eye. Chewing slowly and thoughtfully, he wiped his hands on a napkin and brought his legs up under him into a cross-legged position, eating more politely now as he watched her.
"You suck," she growled between bites, her eyes looking back at him, threatening him with her defeat.
"And you bite," he replied, grabbing another burger, only to have it swiped away from his grasp before he could even start to unwrap it. He laughed.
"Hurry up Panny, we've got a lot of work ahead of us."