Disclaimer: I do not own DBZ.

A/N – thanks to everybody who reviewed, you kind people you, hugs for you all. Just in case you don't know, there will be slash in this story, I am taking care of that field, and there is also pan/Vegeta stuff. Vegeta Goddess does that, I don't write het. Or if I do it is only with very much persuasion. Also if you want to read the lemon version of this chapter (Pan/Vegeta lemon) visit http://www.mediaminer.org/fanfic/view_st.php?id=29056.

The chapter mentions Bebi, if you don't know who Bebi is then he was this bad guy who showed up in GT and kinda possessed people. He had it in for Vegeta you see and eventually took him over.

~*~

It was dark that night, as most nights are, and no moon shone down on the Earth, no stars peered down on the world to offer their meager light. Gloomy, menacing storm clouds had rolled in not long after all New Order squads had returned from their various missions, promising a night of thunder, lightning, rain, and hail.

It was always on nights such as these that the spirits of those still free would be at their lowest. More so on this particular night, because of the recent loss the New Order had suffered to its ranks.

Of the few thousand free souls that had walked around the airfield that was the home base for the New Order, the majority were asleep. Some would sleep peacefully, able to rest with the knowledge that whatever would happen the next day would come then, and they could deal with it when that time came.

Others would find no rest tonight; grief would keep them from sleep. For some of those brave soldiers who fought for their freedom had family and friends still alive to hold to their hearts, and some of those warriors had fallen this day.

So for those few, this stormy night was for weeping, tomorrow there would be no more tears. There was work to be done. With the dawn of a new day would come the need to focus on surviving till the nighttime, and with that they could again submerge themselves in grief.

The race of free humans was dwindling. They had lost ten good men today, and when the population was only 5000 strong, ten men was ten too many.

Among this scant collection of humanity, in a small room situated in one of the main terminals of the airport, on a bed that once held two, there lay a woman. On the outside she looked peaceful; her face spoke of dreams with sunlight, and happy memories.

Inside she was screaming.

Rain pelted down on her, stinging her face and hands like a thousand sharp knives all stabbing her at once. The water soaked her clothes and weighed her down, but she kept running, barely noticing either of these things, ignoring her injuries, every fragment of her attention focused on finding her husband.

She could hear yelling coming from all around her, there was no specific direction she could point out as the location of the commotion; it seemed to be everywhere, the sound filling and reverberating off every alleyway and building.

Rounding a blackened corner of what used to be a classy hotel, she saw him. He seemed to be wounded, but conscious. Slowly raising himself up off the ground, his back could be seen through the tattered remnants of his shirt covered in blood dripping from a gash across his shoulder blades.

She breathed a sigh of relief; she had found what she was looking for, now she could concentrate on the battle.

Quietly she spoke his name, love and concern giving her voice a soft quality instead of its usual monotone. He turned around, and the first thing she saw was the angry red rash smearing his mouth.

For a moment she stood still, not quite believing what she saw, hoping her eyes were just too full of water to see properly. Then his arms reached out like claws, gripping her, his face screwed up in hate and an alien hunger. But when he spoke, his voice was the same as old - carefree and slightly sardonic.

"You came too late, I'm one of them now, and you couldn't stop it."

She shook her head in denial, her eyes widening, but he kept speaking to her, his hands tightening around her forearms, keeping her in the one place she longed to never be again.

"Why didn't you save me? Why weren't you faster? Wasn't my love good enough for you? Wasn't I GOOD ENOUGH FOR YOU?"

His voice was getting louder, and angrier, his fingers digging in to leave ten perfect bruises she would find the next day, tears blurring her eyesight until the number of purple smudges doubled.

But there were thin rivulets of water leaking from the corner of his eyes, and somehow she knew that it was not rain. He was crying, but his voice stayed loudly accusatory, his face still mangled in hate.

"YOU DIDN'T SAVE ME!! YOU WEREN'T ABLE TO PROTECT ME! JUST LIKE YOU WON'T BE ABLE TO PROTECT MARRON! AND WHEN SHE DIES IT WILL BE ALL YOUR FAULT, JUST LIKE MY DEATH IS!"

She shook her head fiercely, vehement denial mixing with grief, making her body and voice strained.

"No, I tried…I tried to save you…"

"YOU DIDN'T TRY HARD ENOUGH, IT WAS YOUR FAULT!"

She continued to protest but the words wouldn't come out, her vision darkened until all she could see was the screwed up face of her beloved, with its mocking smile that told of his possession by one of them. But his eyes retained their old character, blame and tears pouring from them enveloping her, along with his angry voice encompassing her until the sounds of battle were drowned out, and all she could hear was his voice.

"YOUR FAULT!"

"Your fault!"

"Your fault!"

"Your fault!"

The woman shot up in bed, her eyes wide with pain, the sheets dropping to her waist unnoticed. She could hear the rain pelting the window near her bed, lightning illuminating the room for a few seconds before allowing the dark to swallow it up again.

She sighed, her voice weary. Of all nights for there to be a storm, it had to be the anniversary of his death. She refused to think of it as his possession, because that would have to mean she admitted he was still alive, and he wasn't.

He wasn't alive because of her, just like the abomination inside his body wasn't dead because of her. She absently rubbed the scar the ranged from the corner of her left eye to the bottom of her chin, running diagonally across her lips.

She had received that scar when she fought him, but she couldn't bring herself to kill him, not when he looked so much like the man she once loved enough to turn her back on evil in a battle long ago.

A curt knock sounded at her door, startling her from reminiscing. Before lightning could flash again, her face was an impenetrable mask, devoid of emotion, and her eyes unreadable.

Without hesitation, the military leader of the New Order slid out of bed, and wrapping a long jacket around her pants and tank top ensemble she switched on the lights. She already knew who it was, Vegeta always reported to her at this time, his knock always the same, though this time she sensed a weary sadness born of duty behind it. Much like the sadness she carried.

They had all lost so much.

She opened the door, slid through it and closed it whilst giving Vegeta a crisp greeting. No one entered her sleeping quarters - that was her personal place where she could mourn in solitude.

Swiftly moving across the room to sit behind her desk and face Vegeta, who knowing the drill was already seated in a chair opposite her, her voice was normal when she spoke; belying the fact she had just woken from a nightmare born of memories that pained her already agonized soul deeply.

Vegeta nodded respectively. "Evening, android."

Eighteen clasped her hands in front of her and suppressed a grim little smile. Even after all that had happened Vegeta refused to call her 'Eighteen.' In a away she was glad that he doggedly held on to his old ways, it reminded her of old times - of better times.

"What do you have to report, Vegeta?" Her voice was calm and emotionless, her icy blue eyes matching her voice as she stared at the saiyan who had once been a hated adversary.

Vegeta was also calm in tone, the only tension showing in his tightened arm muscles. "Pan's fine. Goten and I accompanied her to Hangar 4 where Trunks was waiting." He smirked. "He grabbed her as soon as she came into view and the last I saw was yelling at her for putting herself in danger."

Eighteen nodded her face and voice still blank as she registered the change in Vegeta's facial expression. "Her team?"

At this Vegeta frowned slightly, and he spoke with disgust dripping from every syllable. "All taken. Those things are attacking the best we have; they're setting the strongest they have on our key weapons along with masses of simple humans to crowd escape routes. Pan was only able to escape from the humans by flying, and even then she got away from her mother and the rest purely because Goten and I showed up. I carried her away from immediate danger, and Goten went back to destroy her squad."

Eighteen took in this information, her expression composed. "We'll have to continue the food runs, but more precautions must be taken. This storm is going to ruin most of the crops we have out by the runways, and according to David our food stores will only last three months. Four if we ration it."

Vegeta snorted. "That old goat. The only reason he has a job of importance is because he was a college professor, if he didn't have a way with numbers he'd be stuck with only himself for company. And with the personality he has we'd soon be down one irritating backwards hick."

Eighteen looked at Vegeta pointedly. "David has both the knowledge of farming and a study of numbers in his favour. He does his job well." Her voice softened slightly. "You should go and get some rest, it's been a big day…Was Bra one of those chasing Pan?"

Vegeta looked away, trying to appear bored with the conversation. "Yes. I don't know how you guessed, but apparently Bra isn't as dead as we thought she was. Or the thing inside her isn't as dead."

"I had a feeling they would have some regenerating abilities." Eighteen sighed. "It is a good sign that it seems to take them a few weeks to become fully functional again, but still the odds do seem to be against us."

The Saiyan prince stood, his arrogant stance teeming with confidence. "They are not immortal, with or without the handicaps we have, in time I shall find a way to overcome them."

With his word said, Vegeta turned and vacated Eighteen's quarters. Leaving her with the tiniest bit of hope. She sighed as she prepared to go and find David.

There would be no more sleep for her tonight.

~*~

Vegeta dropped unceremoniously onto his bed and closed his eyes as the pain he had been hiding from the others crashed through his usually impenetrable mental barriers.

Bra, his precious little princess, was still alive with one of those things inside of her. She should have died when Trunks shot her, the abomination inside of her should have died.

But somehow it had survived.

Vegeta grimaced as he remembered seeing Bra's twisted face as she flew towards Pan. It was difficult to believe that Bra was really dead, but the Fallen killed their host's minds when they took them over. Or at least Vegeta hoped they did. The thought of being stuck inside of his body and not have any control over what he did was frightening.

Sometimes he woke up from nightmares in which he dreamt he was still possessed by Bebi, being forced to move and talk against his will.

Only Goten and Eighteen knew the same horror of being possessed by Bebi, and Vegeta knew that all three of them would rather die then become a slave once more.

Freedom was everything – even if freedom meant death.

Someone knocked on the door and Vegeta sat up again with a sigh. It was probably his son, Trunks tended to show up each night to try and talk his father around to fathering half-breed children to the human females.

Although the idea had merit Vegeta didn't like the idea of whoring himself around to any woman who would make herself available. His son could breed all the half-breeds he wanted with his women. But Vegeta had his eye set on a certain someone who was too vulnerable to be hurt by him sleeping around.

It was sick Vegeta mused, to be attracted to a girl who he had watched grow up…but he couldn't suppress his saiyan instinct any more then she could.

"Come in." Vegeta's eyes widened as the certain someone he had just been thinking about made her way into the room dressed in a blue tank top one size too small and threadbare jeans which were ripped across both knees.

Pan looked at him with empty hollow eyes and slowly made her way over to the bed. She looked crushed, as if the world was on her shoulders.

"What is it brat?" Vegeta kept his voice even but allowed a slight joking tone into it. Pan responded well to being teased. Like a saiyan female she seemed to enjoy verbal sparring.

Like Bulma did.

The cruel thought wriggled into his mind and Vegeta banished it almost immediately.

He didn't want to think about his first love, about Bulma.

"Trunks says…" She trailed off and took a deep breath. "Trunks say that I shouldn't fight anymore. He says I'm too weak to defend myself and that today proves it." Her voice wavered with emotion and Pan looked straight ahead, her back rigid.

Vegeta felt two conflicting thoughts make their way into his head. The first thought was that if Pan couldn't fight then she would be available and he could make his move, the second thought was that if Pan was available then his son would surely jump the cue and get in first.

Vegeta forced himself to cam down as he felt his temper flair at the thought of his weak son touching her.

"Trunks is ignorant." Vegeta watched Pan as he spoke, still struggling to contain his saiyan instinct which had welled up when she sat down near him. "You're one of the best fighters we have and Trunks knows that. Even he wouldn't have been able to take on Videl and Bra by himself. He's just trying to…"

"I know what he's doing." Pan interrupted quickly. "He wants me to breed." She spat out the word breed as though it was a curse. "He wants me to become another of his little brood mares. Well I won't do it!" She spat out the last word and jumped to her feet, pacing the room with agitation. "I don't want him to even touch me! Once I would have loved it if Trunks had been interested in me. I spent my entire childhood dreaming about him! But not anymore, Trunks changed into someone I don't like, but he doesn't seem to see that."

"Of course he doesn't. He's so used to all the human females flocking to him. He doesn't understand that as a saiyan female you crave a strong mate." Vegeta couldn't help but smirk as Pan turned to face him, her eyes slightly wide at his words as though she knew what he was about to say. "You need someone who can protect you, someone like me."

Vegeta stood up and began to walk towards Pan, ignoring the little voice in his head that was screaming at him to stop before he scared her away for good. His saiyan instinct appeared to have won the battle over common sense for once.

Pan stared at him as though he'd lost his mind and forced herself to speak, her voice a bare whisper. "Vegeta…what are you…?"

"Doing? I don't really know to tell you the truth. I know I shouldn't be doing this but I can't seem to stop myself." A wry grin appeared on his face as he backed Pan into a wall and placed an arm on either side of her head, trapping her. "I guess I'm just doing what my body wants me to do." He lent down close and breathed in her scent with half lidded eyes.

She smelled so good…so good…

"You're going to…to breed with me?" Pan sounded shocked and looked as if she was going to be sick.

Vegeta instantly recoiled from her. "Breed with you? Why would I want to breed with you? You're a valuable warrior, I wouldn't prevent you from fighting by getting you with child." Vegeta surveyed Pan through eyes that were burning with anger that she would dare to think that he would touch her for any reason other then passion.

He wanted her, not some child spawned by her.

"Then why…?" Pan trailed off as the obvious occurred to her. "Vegeta…we can't have an affair, not now."

"Why not? Why not take some pleasure in each other, why not forget about the fact that our families are enslaved or dead? Why deny ourselves what we want?" Vegeta growled sensually as he edged closed to Pan.

"How do you know I want this?" Pans voice was breathless and Vegeta smirked as he gently touched her arms and realized she was trembling.

"Are you saying you don't want this?" Vegeta halted in front of her, one hand raised to touch her face.

"I…I don't know." Pan let out a shaky breath as Vegeta's black eyes bored into hers with an intensity, which she'd never seen before. "Do you love me?"

Love? Vegeta's mind instantly recoiled. "No."

He expected to see pain flash across Pan's face but instead she breathed a sigh of relief. "Good, I don't want anyone to love me, nor do I want to love anyone again…it just causes pain." Her voice cracked and Vegeta allowed himself to gently cup her face in his hand.

"Don't I know it." The bitterness in his voice surprised himself almost as much as it surprised Pan. "We've both lost people we care about; both of us need some companionship." Vegeta continued to stroke Pans face as he let his voice drip back into a seductive purr that only Bulma had ever heard.

Grief reigned in Pans' eyes and she blinked back tears, unconsciously leaning into Vegeta's hand like a cat. "I miss my parents. I miss then so much it hurts! I miss everyone who got taken!" Her voice caught. "I don't want to lose anyone else to those…those things!"

"Neither do I, which is why I need you to fight. We can't afford to lose even another human to those creatures." Vegeta stepped forward allowing his body to gently lean against hers. "Stay the night Pan, I may not be the person you spent your childhood dreaming about, but I am the one who can give you exactly what it is you crave for."

Pan swallowed hard as she stared up into Vegeta's eyes. They were burning for her, telling her in a look what he couldn't say in words.

He wanted her. Wanted her badly, and even though Vegeta wasn't the kind of person Pan had envisioned herself having an affair with, he was offering her a release from her thoughts.

Pan let go of the fear inside of her and let Vegeta take her into his arms. She needed to forget everything. Just for a night she needed to forget.

She shivered as Vegeta looked at her with that animal like intensity, his hands closing around her waist and pulling her against him, so close Pan could feel each of his perfectly toned muscles through the fabric of their clothes.

Then he kissed her and Pan forgot.

Everything that had been worrying her faded away, all the pain, all the confusion and anger just disappeared as Pan was cast into a world of need.

She'd been with other men before but this was different, Vegeta was more then just a man. He was a saiyan, he was a prince and right now he seemed to be the only one who understood her.

He was right; she needed this.

Vegeta's kiss deepened, his tongue danced against hers and Pan moaned as she plastered herself against him, her hands roaming up and down his body as she traced the contours of his muscles.

He was so powerful…his power rippled along her skin and Pan tore her mouth from his and gasped.  Vegeta looked down at her with clouded eyes and easily picked her up, carrying her to the bed with a slight detour to the door which he locked.

He laid her down on the bed and began to undress himself, his black eyes never leaving her face. Pan undressed herself in a far less assured way, her hands shaking with the knowledge of what she was about to do.

She finished undressing herself and took a deep breath shutting her eyes in an effort to block out Vegeta and compose herself. The bed gave slightly beside her and Pan knew that Vegeta had moved onto the bed. She felt his lips press against her shoulder and with a small sigh she opened her eyes and turned to face her prince…

~*~

Vegeta woke up with a start and blinked as he realized that sunlight was streaming in through a grimy, barred window. He'd been dreaming that he was fighting Bulma…and losing against her. Vegeta relaxed back into the pillows then sat up with a start again as he remembered last night.

He'd slept with Pan! Vegeta looked around the room, trying to determine if she was still present - but apart from the alluring scent of Pan and thick smell of sex there was no sign that she had ever been in his room, let alone allowed him to take her.

With a small growl he relaxed again and stretched. He would have liked waking up next to Pan and having another few rounds of horizontal sparring with her. It would have been the perfect start to a day.

Oh well. Vegeta forced himself to stand up, yawning and stretching as he reached for a pair of faded black jeans and a long sleeved red shirt with the 'New Order' logo emblazoned on it.

Today was just another day in the war against the Fallen, and it was no use wishing that he could lose himself in Pan again.

~*~

In another dimension, far away from the Earth and all its troubles, a wise pair of eyes narrowed and looked into the distance as a decision was made.

It was time…

~*~

A/N –  *glares* I can not believe I missed the double meaning in something I wrote up there. Me! Of all people! I have one of the sickest minds you can find, I can make an insinuation out of anything! And I missed this! Kudos to whoever picks it up first.

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