"I'm going to be your bride."

Sighing, Trunks stared at page 237 of his algebra textbook. After three hours of battling long and hard with 50 plus math problems, the words and numbers on the page were starting to become a blur that very much resembled the Nameckian written language.

"Did you hear me?"

Biting the end of his pencil, Trunks considered problem number 39 again. The answer was obviously not 28. But then, were the blazes had he gotten that 132 staring right at his face? And what had he done with his minus signs? Maybe he had copied his formula wrong.

"Well, it really doesn't matter if you heard me or not. I'm still going to be your bride."

Suppressing a sigh of exasperation, Trunks threw a warning glance across the kitchen table at the little girl sitting at its other end.

"Oi, Pan," he grumbled, "if you're not going to help me out with my math, go bother someone else."

Pan pouted at him and swung her legs impetuously in her chair. She had that look on her face, so very like her mother's, that made it clear that nothing short of planetary destruction would budge her from her place.

"I can't go bother Uncle Goten. No one's here today. It's just you and me, remember?" she said hotly.

Trunks sighed. It was a beautiful sunday evening. He should have been out there: on the town or on a couch watching TV. or lying on his stomach somewhere, anywhere or watching a worm crawl by or sitting on a bloody cactus till the sky fell down if need be. He didn't really care what he would have been doing. He didn't even have any clear idea of what he really would have been doing at all. But it would have been tons better than spending sunday night at home. Alone. Doing algebra homework. With Pan. And what was this about being his bride?!

"Look, Pan. If you really are going to be my "bride," as you say, why don't you get some practice in conjugal devotion and help me out with my daily academic duties?"

Pan smiled, two little dimples appearing at the sides of her cheeks. She rested her shoulders on the table and cupped her chin in her hands, her smile growing wider. Trunks wanted to hit her with his book. It was heavy enough to cause lethal damage, if he put the right amount of force into his throw. But then he'd have to deal with Gohan and Videl. Damned if I do, damned if I don't.

"You know," Pan said, still smiling, "I was thinking about just that, helping you out I mean, right now."

"That's good to hear," Trunks mumbled. Giving problem number 39 up as a lost case, he turned his attention to number 40. Maybe Pan would know how to do math. She was Gohan's daughter, wasn't she? Yeah. Right. Pan do math. And Namecks are pink.

"I think you're working too hard. You've been at this table all day. It's no wonder you're so cranky. You should get up for a while. Forget about math."

Trunks looked at Pan for a while in silence. She smiled at him as if what she had just said were supposed to inspire deep and never-ending happiness within him. Throwing the book was beginning to look more and more savoury.

"Listen, young lady," he began, but Pan didn't allow him to finish the first sentence of the long and winded speech he would have been more than glad to deliver about allowing young men to finish their 50 pts. worth of homework in peace. She rose from her chair in one excited bounce and skipped over to where he sat, her short, bobbed hair bouncing right along with her every step. Before he knew what she was up to, she had taken his hand and begun to pull him up and out of his chair.

"No you listen," she said, smiling viciously, "You've been cooped up all day! I'm taking you out of here. You need to relax, Trunks. You're going to relax.

"Pan." He was glad to see that the warning in his voice made her pull less enthusiastically at his hand. She was still pulling, though. Dragging him right out of his chair and across the kitchen floor. He tried to skid himself to a stop by planting his feet as firmly as he could to the ground. But all he accomplished was to leave black skid marks on the floor.

He stared in disbelief at them. A little girl, a quarter of a Saigon, was pulling him right across his kitchen floor. It was too much for him. First math, now this. He knew he had been neglecting his training of late, but he never imagined he had permitted himself get this bad.

With a frown, he pulled Pan up from the floor, enjoying her grunts of protest. Narrowing his eyes, he threw her one slow, feral grin.

"Very well," he said, "We'll go out. But I get to decide where we go first. Deal?"

Pan laughed victoriously and threw her arms around his neck, squeezing the living daylights out of him.

"Wai!" she shouted right into his ear. "I knew I could convince you! Now we're gonna have fun together! Just you and me!" She giggled and hugged him tighter. He groaned.

This was going to be a difficult night.

Planting his feet firmly on the ground, Trunks allowed his eyes to close momentarily. The evening wind blew cold and crisp across the deserted plateau a few miles from the city that he had chosen as the first step in Pan's silly going out game.

Every fibre in his being warned him of incoming danger. His brows drew together in concentration. He could just make out a slight-- There

With one quick flick of his hand, he blocked Pan's incoming punch. Her eyes widened in surprise, and she twisted her body in mid air, aiming a kick at his head. Reading her movements, Trunks shifted his hand and caught Pan's ankle, lifting her over his head and slamming her into the ground behind him. Growling, Pan pushed herself out of the floor rapidly, using her legs as propulsion. Catapulting upwards, she brought her legs sharply together to deliver a swift kick to Trunks' chin. The force of the blow sent him sprawling.

Rubbing his chin, Trunks scowled at Pan. The little twerp had been been beating him all evening. Night was falling rapidly. He had to beat her now. He just had to.

Springing forward, he aimed a swift punch to her stomach. When she doubled over, he brought his other hand in to deliver a blow to her back, sending her crashing to the ground. He waited a while before she pushed herself up. Narrowing her eyes, she regarded him in silence. Then, with a yell, moved in swiftly to pummel away at his chest. He caught some of the blows easily, but some hit their mark with an amazing effectiveness. Trapping her left fist in his right hand, he delivered one massive kick to her sides. He smiled as it sent her tumbling a good way off. Letting his hands rest as fists by his side, just in case, he flew low towards where she lay.

He was enjoying himself now. It had been a long time since he'd had a chance to really train again. And Pan was really quite strong for a child her age. He had no doubt that she'd soon be able to use the Kame Hame Ha, like Son Goku and both of his sons. He almost wished she could use it now. It would make this little sparring section all the more interesting. But for now, he'd have to concentrate on beating her.

Landing beside the rubble were Pan lay, he bent down and smiled innocently at her scowling face. "Had a nice flight?" he asked. Laughing, he dodged her infuriated swings at his face. Jumping gracefully to one side, he winked and threw her a slow smile.

"Come on, Pan," he teased, "I'm right here."

"I'm gonna beat your head in!!"

Trunks smiled in anticipation.

The blow was much too painful for him to bear. Sighing, Trunks lowered his hands to his sides in a gesture of the most bitter defeat.

"Sonna," he murmured. "How can it be almost 78 zeni? That's cruel..."

Peering over at him from her comfortable browsing spot, Pan threw him a quizzical look.

"Why's it cruel?"

Trunks cracked open one eye and threw Pan the dirtiest look he could muster. Why couldn't she mind her own business and leave him miserably alone in his grief?

"Why is it unfair, Trunks?"

Seeing that Trunks wouldn't answer her like any decent person would sometime during this century, Pan leaned down to inspect what Trunks held in his hand. She practically had to turn over on her head to read what was written on it. One movement shy of upside down, she spelled out:

"Etukusu Nihon"

It made little if any sense to her. Why was Trunks so upset over this? She scratched her head. She was only 5 years old. Katakana made precious little sense to her. Maybe it was a bad word, this "etukusu"

"Ne, Trunks, what's so bad about this?"

Trunks opened his eyes and fixed her with an exasperated look. Pan gazed right back up at him with curious eyes. He sighed, a tragic martyr.

"This is X Japan's newest C.D. The only X Japan C.D. I do not have. And it is 78 zeni. That's what's wrong."

Pan stared up at Trunks in mute bafflement. "You're upset 'cause you can't buy a C.D.?"

"Yes. Now go off and look at some kiddie music and leave me alone in my pain!"

Pan shook her head, bewildered. Trunks was such a passionate man. He got upset so incredibly easy. Just this evening, he had practically torn out his hair when she'd beaten him in their sparring section, and then he'd grumbled throughout all of the bus ride back to the city. When she'd suggested that they go inside the Sakurasuka C.D. Store, he'd smiled in genuine pleasure for probably the first time that night. It had been going just fine. Till now. And Pan simply couldn't understand why a 78 zeni C.D. could cause such a slump in Trunks, having never been particularly addicted to C.D. players or music in general herself.

"I think it's time we went somewhere else."

Trunks let out a tortured sigh. "Let's," he mumbled.

Once outside, feeling the cold night air beat at his face, Trunks sagged in relief. There was something about C.D. stores. He was half convinced that the music playing over the store's speakers brainwashed you. Imagine going all destroyed over an unobtainable X Japan C.D.

"Trunks! You're walking back towards the C.D. Store!"

"Gomen. Gomen."

Sighing, he dug his hands into his pockets. Maybe he could get it for christmas. It wasn't as if he was poor. Just very conscious of how fast money could disappear. And besides, C.D.s were selfish things.

"Oh! Look! Look!" Pan shouted suddenly, "Ice-cream! Trunks, let's get some!"

Without waiting for his reply, Pan grabbed at Trunks' arm and pulled him towards the warmly lit Yum Yum Ice-cream cart. She skipped from side to side impatiently as Trunks dug 2.35 zeni out of his pocket to pay for both their hearty selections. Once, he dropped a coin, and Pan sighed in annoyance as he bent to retrieve it, gomen nasaing all over himself and halfway dropping the ice-cream in the process.

"Really. You're so clumsy at times Trunks."

Digging her spoon into her Triple Chocolate Sundae with Nuts, Pineapple Sauce, and Whipped Cream, Pan shook her head at Trunks. He took a tentative spoonful of his Strawberry Rum selection and tried his hardest to ignore her. He shut his eyes in anticipated disgust as he closed his mouth over the spoon, but then one eye popped open in pleased surprise.

"Hey! It's good!"

"Honto? Can I try?"

"If I can dig into that whipped cream."

"Deal."

Switching cups, Trunks took a hearty spoonful of Triple Chocolate Sundae with Nuts, Pineapple Sauce, and Whipped Cream while Pan gave a humongous lick to the Strawberry Rum.

"It is good!"

"Same here."

Licking thoughtfully at her spoon a bit later, all of her sundae quite devoured, Pan looked at Trunks in open interest.

"You're funny. Why did you buy something you could have hated?"

Trunks blinked and looked at his empty cup thoughtfully for a while.

"Well," he said carefully, "I guess it's cause I like to try new things."

Pan rested her chin on her fists and gazed at him in silence. He remained still for a while, a bit self-conscious under her open stare, just looking at her. She looked like a stranger almost, leaning on their table, her short hair stirring slightly in the night breeze. Her eyes were even brighter tonight, twinkling amiably at him. He smiled.

"You can skate, right?"

Pan smiled slowly.

Gliding gracefully across the skating rink, a frozen pond festooned with bright lights and Christmas garlands, Trunks looked up at the stars. They blinked down at him in familiar warmth. He almost sorry that there was no full moon that night. He smiled softly in perfect content.

"Ne, Trunks! Look! Look at this!"

Giggling, Pan flipped upwards, landing gracefully on one leg. She smiled brightly at Trunks, and he felt a smile of his own stretch across his lips. Gliding over to her, he patted her head, while she giggled.

"Excuse me, sir. Sumimazen. Um, what time is it?"

"Why, it's nearing 12:30 a.m., young man."

"Domo arigato gosaimazu."

Pan folded her arms behind her head and pouted. "Aw. We're not going home now, are we Trunks?"

Trunks shook his head and strove to make his voice as grown up and authoritative as he could. He knew getting Pan back home would be a problem. But it was 12:30 a.m. By now, Gohan, Videl, Goten, Goku, and his okaasan would be home from the Kame House, and his otousan would probably be coming home too. They'd wonder where Trunks and Pan had gone.

"Now, Pan. It's late. Be reasonable. Your parents will be worried for you."

"I'm a good five years old!"

Trunks smirked. "Oh, Wow."

Pan pouted, her lower lip trembling. Trunks tried not to sigh. She'd probably try out her crying routine on him. But he was determined it wouldn't work this time. He would keep his head and not give in.

Thinning his lips in determination, he grabbed at Pan's arm and began to drag her out of the ice. He grunted all the way, with Pan stubbornly lagging. With a pout, she dropped onto the ice, so Trunks had to pull her along in a sitting position, Pan wailing all the way. When he succeeded in dragging her over to the rink's gate, she held onto it for dear life. Trunks pulled and tugged at her, practically falling over while he was at it.

"Pan, let go!"

"No!"

"YES!"

"Don't be stubborn!"

Giving one final, desperate tug, he managed to make her loose her grip and pulled her over to him.

But now she wouldn't hold still long enough for him to remove her skates. She kicked at him, banging her fists into his back. With a curse worthy of Vejiita, she bit down hard on his fingers. He drew back, yowling in pain, and threw Pan a murderous look. His hair had become a dishevelled mess of lavender, and his breath came in rapid, inpatient pants. He took several deep breaths before he smoothed his hair, straightened his jacket, clasped his hands together in a no nonsense manner

And proceeded to tackle Pan onto the floor, determined to wrestle the damned skates off her even if he had to loose everyone of his teeth in the process. It was only several kicks, painful elbow jabs into his tender ribs, excruciating bites at his fingers, hair yanks, ear pullings, and strategically placed blows later that he rose, panting, broken, but victorious, holding the still kicking Pan in one hand and the supremely damned skates on the other.

"Young lady", he growled, "We are going home. Now. And that's final!! Do you un der stand?!"

"I hate you."

Dropping down on the sidewalk, Trunks drew his knees up to his chin. Beside him, Pan chuckled slyly and twiddled her feet in childish pleasure.

"You'll thank me someday."

Trunks grumbled at that. According to the last person he'd asked, it was probably very near 3:30 a.m. by now.

Since their little scene at the skating rink, Pan managed to drag him into a single's bar, a near brawl, an old pawn shop, out into the woods, over to the zoo, which was closed, into ceramic construction cylinders which were lying by the road, and down into a discotheque, long past unconcerned with age and ID.

They'd drunk enough soda to last them a life time. And Pan had even guzzled down a beer and half a margarita, before Trunks had dragged her off. They had stopped at a Wendy's to eat some nuggets and a Frostee they carried around, unfinished, since then, until Pan threw it away, tired of it dripping on her boots. She had brought some Chow Chicken at a Chinese take-out restaurant, and he was still carrying the 7up he had got for himself.

The cars sped by them in blurs of light and colour now. Sighing, Trunks leaned back. The bus should have been arriving by now.

"Ne, Trunks. What's on your mind."

"We should have been home way before now. Our parents are going to kill us."

"Nonsense, Trunks. You're almost nineteen and I'm perfectly safe with you. They're not worried."

Smiling, she rested her head on his thigh. He looked down at her, an annoyed expression on his face, ready to shove her right off. But the sight of her peaceful smile, so warm and trusting, made him stop. He gazed down at her, resting against him, for a while. She looked so ridiculously happy. As if being there with him, waiting for a bus at 3:30 a.m. were the greatest thing in the world. He smiled softly, surprised at his smile. At his own ridiculous happiness.

All in all, it hadn't been such a bad night. He'd never felt so free in all his life, just running around after Pan, watching the stars twinkle silver above him and the lights of the city sparkle about him in a world of strangers, music, smoke, garish signs, and a thousand sounds and smells.

Smiling gently, he stroked Pan's hair, her smile widening in drowsy comfort. Gazing at the cars pass by them, he thought idly about how strange life was. Already the night seemed as if a dream. Echoes and unclear images. Soon, they'd be back in the white glare if his kitchen's light, back with the table and the algebra book, and he'd probably wander if he'd really gone out with Pan, or if he had dreamed it.

He sighed. He wished this moment could go on forever. Just him and Pan resting on his thigh, half asleep, watching the cars speed by him, heading to a thousand places, heading nowhere, giving him a sense of peace as he sat there on an empty sidewalk and just watched them pass him by.

"Trunks?"

"Nan desu ka?"

"I am, you know."

"You're what?"

"Going to be your bride. We had so much fun tonight. I want it to be like this forever, just the two of us."

She yawned. Trunks smiled. He ruffled her hair and gave a playful pinch to her cheek.

"Don't be silly, Pan chan."

Smiling gently, she put her arms around his waist.

"Oh, but I will be. And I'll love you for always and forever."

"Shut your mouth you silly girl."

Pan sighed, savouring the warm ring of Trunks' voice in the darkness, his body relaxed and warm beneath her, protecting her, holding her close gently. She smiled softly, sleep whispering in her ears.

"I'm going to be a very pretty bride."
 

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