AN: New story that takes place three years after GT. Please enjoy my new brain child. Best Path.

Burn More Slowly

TIME WILL TYPICALLY march forward, even if it drags day by day, or even second by excruciating second. A momentous occasion, good or bad, will soon become further away, simply because of the measurement that is time. Such was for Pan, that once her grandfather had disappeared with Shenlong, the days dragged and she could not forget all that had occurred during the Black Star Dragon Ball fiasco, Baby's invasion, Super 17, and then the Shadow Dragons...

It had changed her, the space travel, fighting all of these different villains with her grandfather, friends, and the rest of her family by her side. She didn't feel like the same little girl who had eagerly stowed away on Trunks' and Goku's shuttle. She had grown, become stronger, matured. And just as she had grown, her feelings for Trunks blossomed into a deep heart love. She missed his company each day, at a loss for why he didn't feel the same for her.

Of course, he'd been dating Marron, albeit secretly, before he'd left the hunt the Black Star Dragonballs and he'd resumed doing so once all the chaos quieted and Chikyuu was peaceful again. It wasn't that Pan was stalking him, but she stopped by Capsule Corp often to spend time with Bura, since they were friends. She'd even begged Vegeta to train her, and he seemed keen on wanting to, but had tersely replied that she'd have to wait until she was eighteen or her parents would have his head.

She'd been furious at the time, but had soon come to understand that she needed a break for a while. A few months to think, to heal, to adjust to her new life. A grueling training regimen with Vegeta might have brought out the worst in her, or perhaps would have hardened her teenage mind to the point of tearing down integral parts of her personality.

Perhaps it wouldn't have been so difficult if Goku hadn't disappeared. She loved her grandfather intensely, he had been both a family and beloved friend. Always a positive thinker, optimistic that he could defeat any enemy, his desperation in keep Earth safe his own saving grace each time he needed to be stronger, more powerful. That was her grandfather. Few men could stand up to such rigorous responsibility.

Her father grieved deeply, though he didn't let on. Pan knew that her father was taking Goku's absence hard. Grandma Chichi was too. Even Bulma and Vegeta had quieted some, their mutual respect for Goku keeping their arguments tame in comparison to their usual verbal brawls. Goku had left behind a void, where his loved ones missed him deeply and had to somehow find purpose, discover a reason to carry on in a world where they would never see him again.

"Grandpa..." Pan murmured softly, looking to the sky, as if maybe Goku would miraculously appear, having an amazing story about how he'd solved yet another near impossible riddle. But, no, he wasn't anywhere in the horizon. She could hope, pine, and wish, but it wouldn't bring her grandfather back. Kami-sama, she missed him. Her heart ached.

Time had marched ever forward, and now it had been three years since she'd last seen her grandfather. Since she'd begged Vegeta to teach her. She was nearing her eighteenth birthday, and was no where closer to any of her personal goals. She had achieved in school, her grades an empty accomplishment compared to what she wanted to for herself. She wanted to become Super Saiya-jin. She wanted to confess her love to Trunks, in the smallest chance that he would realize that they were the perfect match. That he wasn't doomed to the dull, droll life as Capsule Corporation's president.

She looked about her room, still very much a child's room, and she wrinkled her nose. She wasn't a child any longer. She wasn't quite a woman yet, but she certainly was not a child. She had matured enough to know that much. She flicked at the frilled seams of the cushion in her window seat. Hn.

Well, there was no point in staying, really. She had no appetite for whatever her mother was preparing for dinner, and her father was locked in his office, actively pursuing his lesson plans. He been a college professor for some time, and though she knew he enjoyed the student's bright minds, it wasn't the ultimate career that made his heart sing.

She tenderly slid her window open and slipped out into the dusk sky. Perfect cover for an escape, really. It seemed she could usually sneak out below her parents' notice. Or maybe they knew she was strong enough to defeat anyone who challenged her, and her safety wasn't something of question any more. Why required a curfew when you could beat any potential rapist into a pulp?

The night air was cool, the winds from earlier that afternoon having calm to a soft whirl. It was peaceful, and though she did not truly desire a new enemy, Pan desired for a life that was more than this. Roaming the universe had been an eye opening experience and Pan longed to travel and make contact with the array of species which existed out there. She could even learn new fighting techniques, as Goku himself had, while out and about in the galaxy.

She flew aimlessly, exploring the colder spires of the nearby mountain. The nocturnal animals had begun to stir and eyed her suspiciously. She ignored them and carried on, the land giving way to the ocean. She flew low enough to brush over the waves with her hands, and the surge of water pressure only mirrored the pressure building within her breast.

She turned back, heading into the city instead, keeping her flight high enough to avoid detection by human technology. The last thing she wanted was to be on the news. She had enough press coverage as Hercule's granddaughter as it was. Capsule Corporation loomed in the distance, most of it's corporate lights out for the evening. Trunks's office, however, remained lit. from the distance. Her keen Saiya-jin vision focused, and it was indeed Trunks, sitting as his desk, working late to finish paperwork.

What the hell? She flew down, perching in the spacious window. She tapped on the glass, and startled Trunks, who had been engrossed in his mindless paperwork.

"Pan! I didn't see you there!" he exclaimed, rushing to open the window and give her entry.

She slid through the window, aware of the her grace as she did so. The past three years had been kind to her, though she hadn't grown taller than 5'2''. But her waist was small, her limbs lean, her figure somewhat like a slim hourglass. At least she was pleased with herself. She had athletic grace, and many men noticed her now. "Hi Trunks." she replied, careful to keep her cool.

He returned to his desk, regarding her with surprise and what seemed to be pleasure at her unexpected company. "How have you been?" he queried, slouching comfortably at his desk.

She looked about the office, her gaze investigative and scrutinizing, though she knew Trunks's workplace well. "I've been well." she replied softly, turning her obsidian gaze to the man she wished would take her into his arms. But, no, she'd have to confess her feelings first, and Trunks, who was now openly dating Marron, would have to leave her and tell the world he loved Pan Son more. "How about you?"

He chuckled, shifting the paperwork around on his desk. "Been busy around here, that's for sure. But things are good. It's quiet, just how I like it." He seemed content to the being in the office and she doubted herself. Had the Grand Tour and everything else that ensued repel Trunks from his Saiya-jin nature? Was he content to settle down on Earth and live a human life? How could he, when she, having less Saiya-jin heritage than he, longed for travel and adventure?

Her lips quirked, and her heart ached. "So...you're content?" she asked hollowly.

He nodded enthusiastically. "Things have never been better. And, hey, you have a birthday coming up. The big eighteen!" he sounded, well, happy. And she could tell her cared for her, the affection in his voice was obvious. But, in all likelihood, he loved her as a sister, holding no more attraction for her than he would Bura. But...it couldn't hurt to try.

"Yes...I'll be a woman in the eyes of human society." she replied quietly. She walked up to Trunks's desk, placing her hands on them as if she were a businessman who wanted Trunks to seal the deal. "Once I am 'legal', would you consider going on a date?" She was bold, and blissfully she didn't blush or stammer. Womanhood was going to suit her well, she sensed.

He was the one to blush, to stammer, to seem unsure. "Wow, uh, Pan-chan..." He sheepishly rubbed the back of his head, a habit he likely picked up from Goku during the Black Star Dragon Ball hunt. She felt like slapping him for his retreat into insecurity. Emotions were nothing to shy away from.

Pan watched him, her brow arching. Trunks was thirty one years old now, and he was seemingly clueless on how to handle his family friend's crushing teenage daughter. She remained stoic, her expression schooled very much like Vegeta's would have been in a similar circumstance. If they were going to use one another's families and their mannerism to deal with the present situation, Vegeta's were far more cool and collected.

"I really appreciate the gesture, Pan, but I'm dating Marron-"

"If you weren't?" she interrupted, challenged. Because if there was even a fraction of a chance...

"...I love her. And if she weren't in my life, well...Pan, there's such an age difference between us. You're like a sister to me. I love you dearly, but not...romantically." He seemed timid, probably so as not to stomp on her feelings. But she didn't want him to try to protect her.

"I see. Well, thank you for your honesty. It's refreshing." she replied, her heart going numb. The shock of the rejection was probably getting to her. She'd probably burst into tears if she remained in this office any longer. She bowed to him, turned, and strode to the window.

"Pan? Wait! Do you...do you want to talk?" He was probably afraid that she'd run and cry to her father. But she wasn't a child anymore to be bounced upon her father's knee. He would not know of this evening, at least not from her.

She paused, crouched in the window sill. She turned to look at him, the lavender haired prince who had once held her heart, and a single tear trailed down her smooth cheek. "It's alright. I said what I had to say. See you 'round."

She jumped out into the night sky, ignoring Trunks's sputtering protests. But, truly, there was nothing to talk about, and she wouldn't break down in front of him. She had more dignity than that. She wouldn't bother Trunks with her feelings ever again. It was not his burden, only hers.

The flight soothed her, the wind drying her tears and tenderly as her own mother would have. She sobbed as she flew, knowing that nothing was as it had been, nor would it ever be again. Grandpa Goku was gone, Trunks had diminished somehow, becoming lesser than he was, and she herself had no direction, no future that was apparent to her.

Her anger surged. How had it come to this? The boring, meaningless existence? What was she to do? Go to college like her parents expected? Marry some human boy, settle down? No, that was not for her. Her Saiya-jin blood called to her, whispered sultrily in her ear of battles, glory, honor, blood. No, she could not fully embrace her human side. Not like Trunks could.

Her heart thudded in her breast bone, her anger escalating. This whole forsaken planet her grandfather had sacrificed his life for was not the same treasure to her. It was a prison, a drab shadow of what it really was to live. Her ki rose, boiling in her blood, her body beginning to glow in the night sky.

"If you push a little further, you may just reach Super Saiya-jin." Vegeta's voice broke her out of her thoughts.

She turned, startled, so wrapped up in her own fury that she hadn't noticed his arrival. "Then fucking train me!" she rasped, angry tears trailing down her face. She didn't care if Vegeta saw her cry, let him say whatever snide remark he wanted.

He floated close to her, his arms crossed, his expression stern. "You're not eighteen yet." he replied stonily. Vegeta was a fortress in and of himself, an impenetrable force, even in death.

Her anger flared. "It's less than two weeks away! My parents aren't going to pitch whatever fit you're imagining they will!" she could not cull her voice to hold respect for the man her own grandfather held much regard and love for.

"My word is just that: my word. I will not break it for your bought of hysteria." His words were enough to shatter any ounce of self control she had left and she snapped, hurling herself at him, her ki climbing ever higher.

"Train me you self righteous prick! I'm just as good as any other warrior! Train me!" she screamed at him, attacking in a flurry of kicks, punches, and minor ki blasts. Her power rose dangerously high, blinding her, her adrenaline far beyond her control.

"You're apparently not good enough for my son, so why would you be good enough for me to train?" he retorted. He was still calm, effectively dodging most of her attacks, and brushing off the ones that did strike as if they were a child's. He hadn't even powered up to fight her.

Her mind snapped and she howled. Her body glowed golden, her hair lifting, her grandfather's beloved orange handkerchief burning to ash off her very head. Her eyes gleamed that ethereal turquoise, her clothing singing at the mere heat of her power. She attacked him full force, and this time he did power up to fend her off.

"I'm more than good enough!" she roared. "I am the granddaughter of Son Goku! His blood runs through my veins!" She connected with Vegeta's mouth as she yelled, and she drew blood. It shocked her to have done such a thing and she paused. She looked at herself; taking note of the glow, the energy. She was Super Saiya-jin. And Vegeta's goading had pushed her over that proverbial edge.

Exhaustion followed after the realization and she dropped from the sky, unconscious. Vegeta caught her, brushing her now soft, sable strands of hair from her face. "Arrogant upstart." he chided softly, his voice lacking bite. He held his greatest enemy's granddaughter, wondering why is was his duty now to do what Goku should have. It seemed the brainless idiot was always neglecting some sort of familial duty.

Pan's ascension to Super Saiya-jin had caught attention, and several ki signatures were rushing to their location rather quickly. They wouldn't be alone much longer, and so Vegeta waited. He laid Pan upon the grassy hill where they had come to duel and sat close beside her. And sure as Kami was green, Gohan and Videl were the first to touch down.

"What happened?" Gohan demanded frantically, he and his wife dropping to their daughter's side.

Vegeta remained calm, though he knew he'd be frantic if it were his own daughter. "She merely breached the void between herself and her powers." he answered, not moving from his position. His lip was still bleeding, and would likely be fat for the next day or so.

Gohan paused in his frantic fathering. "Panny attain Super Saiya-jin?" he looked from Vegeta down to his daughter in awe. He, Goten, and Trunks had all attained the title as children, and since Pan hadn't done so yet he wondered if she was even capable, since her Saiya-jin blood only accounted for a quarter of her heritage.

Videl remained silent, for these alien happenings were still not something she was entirely accustomed to, though she had been in Gohan's company since they were teenagers. She tended to her daughter, checking for any serious injuries. Seeing that she was basically unharmed, Videl sighed gratefully.

"She has much potential. I'd like to train her." Vegeta finally intoned.

Gohan blinked. Vegeta had become a recluse in the last few years since Goku had left and he was now the sole strongest warrior on the planet. He would leave planet side often to conduct his training more intensely in deep space. And if he was on planet, he was locked away in his gravity room. Such an offer would be a great opportunity for Pan, if she wanted it.

He knew his daughter, knew her restlessness, knew her call to battle and blood. It was a quality he often suppressed in himself, and he knew it was difficult. Pan would jump at the offer. Though it wasn't his place to accept or decline for her. "She'll need a few days of rest, but she's nearly eighteen now. It's her choice to make."

Gohan's heart felt heavy, to know that Pan would elevate herself to somewhere where he couldn't necessarily follow. But her happiness was of the utmost importance, and she certainly wasn't happy now. He had seen his daughter's discontent grow each day since Goku had gone. He loved his daughter more than anyone else in this world, even his own father, and he couldn't keep her from her destiny, no matter how much he longed to keep her safe.

Vegeta nodded. "Good enough." And since he was no longer needed, he left. He was certain Pan would approach him in a few days one she was fully healed. There was no reason to cease his own training. She would be a handful, that was certain, and he'd need to be prepared.

Goten touched down as Vegeta left and he blinked. "What'd I miss?" he queried, rushing to Pan's side as he assessed the situation.

"She's alright. Vegeta somehow goaded her to reach Super Saiya-jin, though I don't know exactly what happened." Gohan replied, smiling to see that Goten's concerned had roused him from bed. "Nice pajamas." he commented, appraising the rubber duck motif of Goten's lounge pants. The younger Son hadn't bothered with a shirt, so it was obvious he'd left the house in a rush, probably with Chichi shrieking at him as he left.

Goten snorted at his brother's teasing. "I felt Pan's ki, and Vegeta's, and wondered...well, I just wanted to make sure everything was okay." He helped Gohan lift the tiny woman-child. "Do you need any help?"

Gohan shook his head. "I've got it from here. Get back to bed, and please let Mom know that everything is alright." He rolled his eyes, for Chichi's theatrics and hysterics had not calmed in her old age. He cradled his grown daughter to his chest, wishing that she was still little and wasn't about to become Vegeta's primary student. Her near future probably included a lot of the time in that regeneration tank Gohan knew Vegeta housed somewhere in Capsule Corp.

Goten nodded, acknowledging the mini family before taking off in the direction of Chichi's home. Gohan shook his head, wondering if Goten would ever move out, or if he was content to spending his adult years as a Momma's boy. It seemed Goten, like Pan, was dissatisfied with his current life as well. Gohan shook his head. Goku had left behind such a chasm in their family. He felt an irrational surge of anger for his somewhat ditzy father.

"It's late honey, let's go." His wife touched his arm tenderly, and he gazed into her sky blue eyes deeply. There was nothing that needed to be said. She was all too aware of how things had changed, how...unsettled everything was in Goku's absence. He nodded in agreement to her suggestion and together they took off towards their own home, their daughter safely within their grasp, if only for the moment.

THE FLIGHT HOME for Vegeta was uneventful, though his brain kept reviewing all that had just occurred. Son Goku's little granddaughter had just proven her worth, and it was about time. He would have trained her at any time, really, so long as she had shown herself capable to breaching the Super Saiya-jin barrier. But perhaps she'd needed the emotional pain of Trunks's imminent rejection to push her past that brink.

He'd known all about the Son girl's silly infatuation with his son and quite frankly he questioned the girl's taste. His son was handsome, yes, but had become something completely unSaiya-jin in the last three years. It was a hassle just to drag the boy into the gravity room for a routine training session. Entirely unsuitable, really, for a warrior spirit such a Pan to take to mate. Trunks had changed after the Grand Tour, rejecting his Saiya-jin heritage, choosing instead to become the successor of Bulma's corporate empire. Which was fine, in the grand scheme of things, though Vegeta was inwardly disappointed with his son's choice.

Pan, however, showed much promise and was meant for far greater things than as the trophy wife that Marron embodied. The blond progeny of Goku's old friend and that bucket of bolts was quite the match for his son. Too bad the bloodline would dwindle the Saiya-jin nature further...

Seeing as how he was the last full blooded Saiya-jin left that was to be expected, he supposed. To slowly watch all of the greatness that was once his race become diluted with Chikyuu-jin blood. He loved his mate, and didn't begrudge Bulma her birth, but it was an unfortunate side effect. His son was weak, and his daughter was...right in front of him.

"What happened? Is Pan alright?" His own daughter was frantic, worried about her friend. And from Bura's point of view, reasonably so. Pan was unconscious, exhausted from her transformation, and her ki was negligible at best. It could appear that she was severely injured or worse, to someone with little ki reading experience, such as Bura.

The night carried a slight chill, so Vegeta pulled his daughter into the protection of his arms. Bura was wearing pajamas herself, her hair rustled from her haste to get to where ever the conflict was. "Dad!" she cried, her panic rising.

"Your friend is fine. She merely attained Super Saiya-jin. Goku's elder whelp is taking her home." he answered, the rumble of his voice calming his teenage daughter.

Bura withdrew from her father's arms. She didn't fly often, and wanted to do so herself. It was actually kind of embarrassing, to be seventeen and not be able to fly or fight to a competent degree. And now Pan had become Super Saiya-jin as well. She wondered belatedly if all of the time she spent on her own studies could be better spent elsewhere, like in the gravity room with her father.

"Are you going to train her?" She knew all too well Pan's indignation over Vegeta's refusal to train her until her eighteenth birthday. His nod was reply enough. If Pan was going to receive training then... "I want to train too!" Bura chimed.

Vegeta blinked at his daughter's statement. She hadn't ever taken an interest in her powers. "You'll break a nail." he retorted instantly. Bura was usually a focused girl when it came to her studies and her tutelage as a future scientist and potential vice-president of Capsule Corporation. But to be devoted to becoming a warrior...he doubted his daughter's devotion to such a cause.

"I'll cut them." she replied stubbornly. She was tough. The Saiya-jin princess knew if she put her mind to it, then she could accomplish anything. She was as much Vegeta as she was Bulma.

Vegeta chuckled, unable to resist his daughter's charms. "Very well. If you are serious, then meet me in the gravity room at 5 am sharp. Don't be late or I won't bother teaching you." He continued his journey home, aware that his daughter lagged behind him, struggling to keep up. He kept his flight slower than was normal for him, and wondered if he'd ever be able to truly be tough on his precious child.

Once they arrived home he didn't bother saying good night to Bura, and instead retreated to the bedroom he shared with his long time mate. Bulma was sixty four now, and was becomingly increasingly uncomfortable in her old age. Vegeta didn't think of himself as old, but had learned in his time on Chikyuu that his current age was considered old by Chikyuu-jin standards.

She was in bed, already slipping into her dreams. He undressed quietly and efficiently, slipping slowly into bed to avoid disturbing his mate. But she wasn't not completely asleep, and stirred to address him. "Vegeta? What happened?" her voice slurred from her fatigue. She got tired more often now...her body becoming more frail.

It frightened him. The prospect of life without her...

"Pan became Super Saiya-jin." he repeated for the third time that evening. He pulled her closer, certain to be tender. Any lack of control could result in broken bones at this stage.

Bulma smiled. "Goku would have been so proud."

The mention of the third class idiot made Vegeta scowl deeper than usual. "Well, proud as he may have been, I am the one who will teach her now." That 'bakasaru' low class imbecile was always inconveniencing him, even form the grave. He felt irrational fury with Goku for leaving in the first place, leaving him alone on this backwater planet with nary a good sparring partner to be had. It seemed that he'd have to train Goku's replacement. Sparring Pan might alleviate his anger over Goku's abandonment and his wife's unceasing aging. This could be good.

She smiled, knowing that this turn of events would be good for him and that he'd arrived at that conclusion himself. At the very least it would serve as a distraction. "I'm sure you'll do a great job." she encouraged warmly.

He snorted. "Well, now my hands are twice as full. Our daughter has the crazy notion that she wants to learn too." He wasn't entirely sure that Bura would even show up tomorrow morning on time, let alone stick to a training regimen.

Bulma blinked. "Do you really think our Bura could handle such-"

"Of course she can," he cut her off, "she's just as much Saiya-jin as Trunks." Bulma's prudish human sensibilities held no clout when it came to a Saiya-jin's strength. Bura could do anything that Trunks could, gender didn't matter when power was concerned. Bura could even exceed her own brother, for his laziness was doing him no good.

"I trust your judgment." She kissed him deeply, in a manner that still made his blood boil with desire. He gingerly rolled on top of her, gazing down at her loveliness that did not seem to diminish with her age. He loved her as much as he had when she was young, if not more. He touched her gently, with the feather light pressure she so enjoyed.

The prospect of training both Pan and Bura was not overwhelming by any means, but it would be an undertaking. He hoped he would have enough patience for Pan's surly temper and enough will to be stern with his own daughter.

"Then trust me to bring both the Son girl and our daughter into their full potential." he murmured against Bulma's porcelain skin. She nodded, a wordless moan escaping her lips. And nothing more was said concerning this matter.