Important: Before reading this chapter, go back to the previous one, "Enter The Nerd," and read the final scene that I just added to it. So yes, go back, read that final scene I added, then come back and read this chapter. Please and thank you. For further information about this please go to my blog and read the latest entry. The link is on my profile page.

On another note, i'm happy to present a new chapter much sooner than usual. haha. Hope you all like it. Also, my friend's been bugging me to set up a forum using that new feature here on FFnet. Does anyone think they'd stop by to discuss anything with me or any other readers of mine? Just wondering if it's worth my time to have a forum for my works and myself.

Enjoy the chapter.

---

No one was surprised when Trunks came into Capsule Corporations with messy hair and thoroughly wrinkled pants, jacket and shirt. For Trunks, it was quite common. The only thing they were surprised at was that he didn’t have lipstick somewhere present on his being. And so he slipped by the front desk, onto the elevator, and down the hall to his office. He was surprised, however, when he opened his office door to find Goten clicking away on his computer.

“What?”

“Sorry,” Trunks’ best friend didn’t look up from the monitor, “wanted to check my email. What are you doing here so early?” As Trunks approached he looked up, and then his eyes widened. “You look awful, what have you been…wait!” He stood abruptly, and Trunks jumped. “Did you sleep with her?”

“Yes—no—wait, it wasn’t like that.” He shook his head violently, retrieved a cup from the cupboard in kitchenette of his office. He began brewing coffee. “It was—that is, it’s not what you think.” He explained hurriedly. Goten watched him in horror.

“You didn’t!” He exclaimed. “You—you…you’re a cheater! A cheat! A rogue!” He crossed the room angrily towards Trunks. “You slept with another woman.” His jaw dropped. “You cheated on her with your secretary. You’re personal secretary.” He collapsed on the couch. “Don’t tell me this is happening, and on this weekend of all weekends.” He started moaning to himself.

“Now wait just a second,” Trunks began angrily, “you don’t have all the details. If you’d just wait and let me—” His office door creaked open and Marron crept in.

“Good morning, you two.” She greeted.

“You’re just in time—you should know who he is!” Goten proclaimed. Her eyes widened at the scene. “He’s a cheat, Marron. He slept with his secretary!”

Marron’s face grew troubled. “Oh my,”

---

Pan woke up to blinding sunlight that pierced through her skull. She groaned and rolled over, pulled the blanket over her head. Finally she motivated herself to get up, and she staggered into the bathroom. She looked in the mirror, saw the smudge of mascara and makeup around her eyes, how her outfit was wrinkled and sagging in odd places. She rinsed off her face, brushed her teeth, and slipped into pajamas.

Stumbling into the kitchen she found muffins and bagels on the kitchen counter, and in the semi-barren fridge an unopened carton of orange juice and some cream cheese. A note from Trunks was tacked onto the fridge, demanding she eat, rest up, and that if she stepped onto Capsule Corporations property she would be promptly escorted off.

“Trunks was here?” she asked herself. A moment of thought made her recall dinner, dancing, and one too many drinks. Then quickly she remembered riding in a car, being carried to her apartment, and a warm body against her back as she fluttered in and out of sleep. She flushed, took a step back and collapsed on one of the barstools next to the island.

“He couldn’t possibly,” she muttered apprehensively. But all too clearly she recalled lavender hair spilling across her neck, his arm around her waist, that comforting warmth of his body she had been cradled in. “He must have been drunk too,” she concluded logically with a sharp nod. She began fixing a bagel. “Or really tired, or delusional—he’s getting engaged this weekend; there has to be some sort of explanation.” And she tried her hardest to convince herself of that.

---

“Oh my,” Marron said. “Goten,” she said quickly, “let me explain.”

“There’s nothing to explain,” he pouted, “my best friend’s a cheater. I mean, I’ve known he’s a reckless playboy, but I didn’t think he’d actually sleep with—”

“It’s Pan!” Marron interrupted in frustration. “Pan, his secretary! He can’t cheat on her if it is her!” Both Trunks and Goten looked to her in alarm.

“It’s Pan? Pan’s the girl?” Goten finally asked. Marron nodded and now she had a smile on her face. “Oh, then I’m sorry, Trunks. We’re good again?”

“What’s going on?” Trunks demanded. “What on earth is going on?”

“Well,” Marron began, “if you don’t get mad I’ll explain. When Goten came I told him about this wonderful girl that was now in your life and how you felt about her. I hadn’t mentioned her name yet, and I guess it would be an odd reality that she was your personal secretary. I mean, I wouldn’t have guessed that if I were Goten.”

“You’re joking,” was all Trunks said.

“We’re all good friends, I had to share the news! And now that you’ve got her…” She shrugged meaningfully.

“But I don’t,” Trunks insisted, “she thinks I’m a jerk—she can’t stand me. There’s no way she’s interested.” He gave them both an adamant stare.

“I thought you slept with her last night?” Marron questioned, eyes darting between Trunks and Goten.

“Well, sort of.”

---

“I’m coming—sorry!”

“That’s fine. Take your time.” Mary sat her purse on the coffee table and slouched on the arm of the couch. She looked around Pan’s apartment, then inspected her nails. Pan’s footsteps could be heard thudding in the next room, and a few moments later Pan emerged from her bedroom.

“I’m ready.” She greeted, pulling the charger cord out of her cell phone and dropping it into her purse.

“This is our day to totally relax! We’re going to spend the entire day out, right?” Mary asked.

“You bet,” Pan returned with a smile.

---

“OK, I understand—you slept with her, but there was no sex involved.” She nodded her head. “Got it. But no problem, Goten and I will have the two of you hooked up in no time.” But Trunks only shook his head. “What’s the deal?”

“It won’t work. And it can’t.” He sat down at his desk. “I’m the last man in the world Pan would care for. And I don’t blame her! I’m a jerk, spoiled, sleep with too many women—I…I don’t deserve her.” But he wasn’t looking at Marron or Goten. His eyes had dropped to the top of his desk. He sighed, leaned forward on his hand. “I can’t even picture myself with her. Not the way I am. So it’s better if things just move on.”

Goten bit his lip, watched his friend across the room. But Marron suddenly slapped her hand on the desk. Trunks jumped, looked straight into her eyes.

“Give me a break,” she nearly growled. “Give me a break!” She tossed her hair, let out a frustrated sigh. “Don’t go all noble on me now. Don’t play the hopeless hero. She’s out there!” She waved her arm forcedly towards the window. “She’s the greatest woman and the world—all you have to do is run out there and snatch her! Go out there, grab her, fling her over your shoulder and don’t let her get away from you!”

“It’s not that simple!” Trunks yelled right back, standing up and leaning across the desk to her.

“It’s not that complicated.” She growled.

“You don’t understand,” he said quietly.

“I guess I don’t.” She grabbed her coat, irritated, then nodded to Goten. “I guess we’ll get out of here for now.” They both moved to the door. “But Trunks,” she turned to him, “just promise me you aren’t hiding behind this. That you’re just not scared she’ll reject you.” He didn’t say a word in return. She sighed and left. The door closed behind her.

---

That afternoon while Mary and Pan were traipsing around the city, shopping in stores that tourists never darkened the door of, eating from street vendors, sipping coffee at a hole-in-the-wall café in a street filled with retro photographers and bohemian twenty-somethings, Trunks was sitting at a large round table on a floor hundreds of feet above ground, biting his lip and not paying attention to the business man from China the meeting had been especially arranged on a Saturday for. While Pan felt the breeze through her thick dark hair as they walked down streets filled with diverse mixes of people, Trunks was lost in thoughts that didn’t concern fair trade and imports. While Pan played with a passing dog for a moment while she and Mary sat in the park, shooting the breeze, Trunks was massive city blocks away, thinking only of her; her smile, that look in her eye—a small sparkle when she rebuked him yet was still amused. He felt a clench in his stomach, a tightness in his chest. He had to take a deep breath, calm that sudden wave of emotion that had broken loose within him, and pretend that he truly was in charge of this meeting.

His mother, however, sitting across from him, noticed, and there was concern in her eyes.

---

After the meeting Bulma followed him to his office and shut the door quietly behind her. He went to the small kitchenette off in a corner, poured himself some cold water, and let out a deep, haggard sigh.

“What’s wrong?” He tensed in surprise, not knowing she was there. “What’s wrong, Trunks?” she asked, approaching him slowly. He reached across his chest, rubbed his opposite shoulder hard and slowly.

“I don’t know,” he said after a while, sliding down to a crouch. “This—this shouldn’t bother me.” He bit his lip, clenched his eyes hut against the surprising surge of heat behind his lids, the moisture that threatened to spill. He wouldn’t cry like a child, especially when he didn’t fully understand what was gripping him so.

“Trunks,” She knelt behind him, touched his shoulder softly.

“I just…” His muscles tensed, every one fighting against this breakdown that was coursing through him. If he maintained control it would pass. “I just need to get away today,” he gasped. Bulma withdrew her hand, gave a solemn nod to herself.

“Go, Trunks. Just go away for a bit.” She left without another word.

She stopped at the desk of his secretary and said, “Cancel everything for him today. Be prepared to cancel everything in his schedule tomorrow, as well.” After a moment she added, “I don’t know what’s wrong, but he needs some time.” The secretary nodded quickly, Bulma set off down the hall.

I will never completely understand him, she thought. He is too much like his father, and also too much like me. I can’t help him now, either. No hard sense, no logical speeches, will cure whatever ails him in his heart. He has to fix it himself. I have to let him.

---

“Let’s go here for dinner!” Pan had looked the place that Mary had pointed at up and down. She had first quibbled that it was too expensive, but Mary had snatched her arm and dragged her into it anyway. Now they were sitting enjoying their meal, and though Pan would never admit it, she was glad they had come.

“That’s why I don’t work in that field,” Pan pointed out, and they both laughed. Mary picked up her drink, shook it slowly in a circle. The water twirled and the ice clinked against the glass. “Onions,” Pan said suddenly. Mary looked at her strangely. “Onions,” Pan repeated, gesturing to her salad with her fork. But then Pan looked up, her expression as if she had just realized something. “Sorry,” she explained, “Trunks eats my onions. I don’t like them.” She seemed to laugh it off, but her mood turned more somber afterwards.

---

Trunks had been walking for a long time. The sun had set an hour ago. Just a few minutes after his mother had left his office he had grabbed his jacket and left the building. He didn’t call for his driver, or a taxi. He had just started walking. He had been walking until moments ago, an hour after the sunset, and now he was in a deserted corner of the park. He had stopped because his cell phone had rung. Now he flipped it open, put it next to his ear.

“Yes?”

“Trunks? Where are you?” Goten’s voice was cheerful on the other end. “Hey, I’m sorry if we all left on bad terms earlier—but that’s not what I called for. I wanted to thank you.”

“The park. Thank me?” Trunks approached a nearby bench and slouched on it.

“Without you, this weekend never would have happened. At least not as great as it did. I did it—we’re engaged.” Trunks was silent as his friend continued. “She’s always been the girl of my dreams and now she’s nearly mine—thank you, Trunks, for helping me with it all.”

“It’s nothing.” Trunks offered simply. In honesty, he wasn’t paying much attention.

“Of course it is! Marron and I are getting married now, and we owe it all to you—you did this for us. You know I’ll always be grateful.” Trunks didn’t say anything, and Goten continued, “Well, we’re heading to dinner now. Thanks again, Trunks. I’ll catch you tomorrow.” Trunks said a simple goodbye and hung up.

He leaned forward on his knees, slid his fingernail into the crevices of his cell phone distractedly, and watched the dark park begin to glitter as the stars in the night sky appeared.

---

The mood had been stifling all through dinner. The waiter now came to give them their dessert, and Mary broke the silence sharply. “Go to him,” she ordered boldly, and Pan looked at her, confused. “Go to Trunks, Pan.” Mary’s aura was rigid as she twirled her fork and began to eat her cheesecake ferociously. “I’m sick of all this nonsense. Go to him.”

“You’re kidding me,” Pan snorted.

“Do I look like it to you?” Indeed Pan hadn’t seen Mary this serious since her long-time boyfriend had dumped her for a man.

“This is ridiculous,” Pan said, raising her hands and shaking her head.

“You’re being ridiculous!” Mary, finished with her cheesecake, slapped her fork down on the table. It made a loud sound, and then there was silence.

Finally Pan said, desperately, “He’s getting engaged. Tonight, Mary.” She looked down, then back at her friend. “There’s nothing I can possibly do.” Mary bit her lip and nodded, and then she gave a sad, acknowledging smile of comfort.

“I’m sorry. You’re right.”

“Just this way, Mr. Son!” The headwaiter was rushing through the tables and passed by Pan and Mary. He snatched a young waiter and hissed in his ear, “This is the table reserved by Mr. Briefs himself for his best friend! Champagne—champagne!” The younger man nodded and scurried away hurriedly. “Just this way, Mr. Son!” The older one said again. And then Pan looked towards the door and Goten was there. But more importantly Marron was there. She flushed, and Mary watched her in concern.

“It’s her,” Pan gasped, and pointed discreetly. “That’s the hippie.” She explained through clenched teeth. Mary took in a sharp breath.

“Trunks’ fiancée?” Mary asked, and Pan gave the slightest of nods.

Goten and Marron were coming closer—Pan and Mary’s table was right in their path. Pan forced her breathing to steady, and then they were there, smiling at she and Mary, pleasantly surprised to see them.

“Pan, great to see you!” Marron greeted. Pan noticed her arm was linked in Goten’s. “And your friend is?” Pan couldn’t speak. She, the woman strong enough to keep Trunks in line, couldn’t utter a word. But Mary was quickly there to cover for her. She offered her hand and introduced herself.

“What brings you here?” Mary then asked, and the two of them beamed.

“Actually,” Goten began, “we just got engaged and are going to have dinner—”

“What?” Pan’s eyes were as wide as a scared rabbit. Goten seemed not to notice.

“Yes, we’re engaged! Thanks to Trunks we were able to both meet up this weekend and—”

“Trunks set it up for you?” Again, Goten didn’t seem to notice her shock, and continued the explanation happily. Mary watched the exchange with great interest. The newly engaged couple smiled and continued on about their wonderful night. Pan’s ears were ringing.

“Well,” Marron said sweetly, “I think we better get to our table. It was so good to see you.” And they both left, neither noticing that Pan hadn’t said goodbye.

“You don’t have an excuse now,” was all Mary said. It was all she needed to say.