Chapter 12

You will be mine

The problem, Pan realised, was that she had to see Trunks again. Even if she could bear never seeing him again, it wasn't actually possible to avoid him forever. The only way she could manage that was to run away from her family and friends, to never come home again – and that was simply never going to happen.

It was her first venture into the Briefs' house since the 'incident', and she was nervous. She didn't know who she was visiting, this time, and she didn't know whether she wanted to see any of the Briefs' family members. However, she would have to face them again, and sooner was probably a better option than later.

Would Trunks still be together with Katu? She knew him well enough to know that he wouldn't keep something like this secret. Katu wouldn't want to be together with someone who cheated on her, would she? The two hadn't know each other that long, yet, so her feelings for him were probably not strong enough to forgive his cheating. Also, Trunks would probably not have told her that he wasn't completely human. He couldn't use the fact that Pan had been in heat as an excuse.

She shook her head and rang the bell. She had to wait a few moments, and the temptation to leave was great. But she couldn't. She had to do this.

Vegeta opened the door. She blinked and then glared at him. Vegeta didn't open doors. What Prince in his right mind would?

"I'm not interested in anything you have to say," she said coolly, attempting to walk past him.

He grabbed her arm and pushed her into the wall. She let out an indignant yelp and tried to break free, but his grip was too strong. Before she could ask him to let go, however, he forced her two hands in one of his, freeing his other hand. He touched his forehead and slid his fingers down his body to cup his crotch, then laid his hand on her head. He muttered something in what was probably Saiyan and then touched her stomach.

"What?" she asked, indignant.

His face was solemn, his scowl all but gone. "You're fertile. You'll bear a prince."

Abruptly he let go and walked away, not even looking at her.

She scowled at his back. "Alien freak," she mumbled under her breath. That probably made sense in some weird, Saiyan way. A prince? As if she'd want to have another one of those in her life. Arrogant bastards. Either way, she wasn't going to waste time on Vegeta, of all people. She chewed on her cheek. Better stop avoiding the inevitable, she decided, and started walking in the direction of Trunks' rooms.

xoxox

"Briefs."

"Son."

They looked at each other wearily. There was a safe distance – fifteen feet – between them, but his scent was heavy in the air and it was as enticing as ever. As frustrated as she might be with him, physically he was still irresistible.

Would he still be angry with her? She had watched him all her life, but still she couldn't tell.

"I wish I could say I was sorry, but I'm not," she eventually said, "and to be honest, I don't think it would help even if I were."

He looked tired and uncomfortable, and he spoke the words that she so desperately hadn't wanted to hear. "I don't love you, Pan."

She pressed her eyes closed, opened them a second later. Light played over his skin, painting shadows under his eyes. Why did he always have to be so godforsakenly beautiful? Then again, maybe that was just her. She sighed. "Do you love me as a friend?" she asked, carefully.

He frowned, rubbing his hand with his thumb. "Yes."

She hesitated. "Do you want me?" She looked at him from under her eyelashes.

"I – Yes," he said. He was still frowning, looking slightly confused. It made him look younger, somewhat less perfect, a look that made her want to hold him and keep him safe, even though the idea was ridiculous. The only one who was causing him problems at the moment was she. If she wanted to protect him from herself, holding him was obviously the last thing she should do.

"Do you want me to be happy? Do you want to protect me against harm?" she continued, her eyes fixed on his face.

He shook his head at her redundant questions. "You know I do."

"And am I constantly on your mind, one way or another?"

He looked at her and she knew the answer, she could feel it in the back of her head, in the pit of her stomach. He kept silent, but she knew.

"Then what's the difference?" she asked, softly.

His eyes widened a tad.

She looked at the floor, running a hand through her hair. It was up to him, now. It had been up to him since they had made the bet. She had given him the cue; he was the one who had to finish it.

He stepped towards her, slowly, as if he were afraid to frighten her away. She let out a low chuckle. Perhaps he had deserved the right to be that cautious, this last month. It wasn't necessary, though. It was too late for running, however frightened she might be. For once, she wasn't going to be scared away.

He was standing in front of her, unmoving. "Aren't there supposed to be butterflies?" he asked.

She laughed again, though it hurt. Her stomach was filled with them, that much she knew. Her belly hadn't quite been the same since they started the bet. "As well as rose petals, lyrical music and little, red, floating hearts? Trunks..." Her voice trailed off as she reached out to him, carefully touching his arms. His skin was hot, soft, the tiny hairs on his arms tickling her palms as her hands slid down his wrists. She could feel his pulse speeding up under her fingers. "Besides," she continued, smirking without realising it, "can you honestly say your heart doesn't jump at the thought of us?"

He laughed, condescendingly. "That's lust."

She had laid her hands in his and he grabbed them gently, lifting both their hands up before releasing hers. A very vivid memory washed over her, the feel of his hands trailing over her body, teasing, stroking in all the right places. His scent filled her nostrils, clouding her brain. Oh yeah, this was lust, he was right about that.

"And how does that differ from a crush?" she retaliated, trying to keep her voice from sounding breathy.

He had to smile at that, a quick movement of lips that raised memories of licking and biting. And yet he said: "I don't want this, Pan."

The words hurt her, but not as much as they would have if he hadn't been tracing his hands down her sides. She stood very still, only her eyes on him. "Can you honestly say that, after everything you just admitted you wanted?"

He let go of her and stepped back. She bit her lip. What the hell were they doing? She was trying to convince him that it would be okay to be together, while he tried to bring up every excuse not to be exactly that. And meanwhile they were enjoying what basically amounted to foreplay. She had promised herself not to run away, true, but wasn't it plain stupidity to try and talk him into having a relationship with her? He didn't want to. He flat out told her he didn't want to be with her.

And yet she couldn't. This whole month she had run when she shouldn't have. And now she was finally in a situation where walking away would be okay, where it would be the right thing to do, even, and she couldn't let go. Running away this last time would mean she lost Trunks, possibly forever. She saw no way of truly re-establishing their friendship. She wasn't sure if she'd ever be satisfied again with only that friendship.

"I could've been very happy with Katu." He sighed.

She grimaced. "Does that mean you'll never be happy with me? Or do you want the freedom to date? Go right ahead, I might just do the same."

He stared at her. "What is it you want from me, Pan?" His hands stilled on her hips. They were very warm, Pan noticed absently, and the feeling was comforting despite the conversation they were having.

She closed her eyes. "You." She sighed. "I want you, Trunks, you know that. I don't know how that should work. I don't know how it would've worked had this situation been normal. Had we been normal. I..." She bit her cheek. Did she really dare to tell him this, to finally let him in on the mess in her head?

"Will you hurt me again?" she asked, her voice meek.

He seemed honestly abashed, but he didn't answer. She knew why. He couldn't tell her he wouldn't hurt her, because he might have to. He wouldn't do it for the purpose of hurting her, but if necessary, he would do it.

However, to stabilize their relationship, whether it was friendship or something more, they would have to be completely honest with each other. The only way to make sense out of this mess, would be to try and explain their actions to each other. If they couldn't figure out this situation, their friendship would simply be gone. Done. Misused and broken.

She breathed in deeply. "I've wanted you for a long time, Trunks. It was probably inevitable that my childhood crush would be fuelled by my being in heat, by your Saiyan blood. This time, I just... I decided I would have to make a move." She sighed again. "I didn't know what I wanted. I still don't."

He had been looking at her, his blue eyes fixed on hers, making her nervous. Now he slowly put his hand on her shoulder and pulled her against him, folding his arms around her. She clutched at his shirt, hugging him back. He was so warm, his smell so comforting. If they could only stay like this, everything would be okay. They would never have to talk again.

"Please, Trunks," she whispered. "Please tell me why you kissed me." She buried her head in his shoulder, breathing in his scent. He slowly lead her to the couch and pushed her down. "Sit," he said, smiling, and sat down next to her.

She looked down at her hands lying in his. He was absent-mindedly tracing her fingers with his thumbs. It didn't feel odd to be touching like this, she noticed. It hadn't, not since the 'incident'. The reason that it probably should have felt odd, or at least noticeably different, was that they had never touched like this. Their friendship had always had a distinct physical aspect, yes, but not in this manner. He was caressing her hands like a long-time lover, as if touching her was as natural as breathing. And apparently, he didn't realise it himself.

Did he not know about the bond? The idea seemed ridiculous; she could feel him in the back of her head as a physical thing. Not in the way she felt his hands touching hers, but more like the way she felt her own hands: a simple certainty that they were there. It seemed insane that he would not feel the connection between them.

But yet... Could it feel so natural to him that he had simply not noticed?

She shook her head. "You do realise-"

"I don't know what came over me," Trunks began, cutting her off. He looked at her questioningly, but she waved at him to go on. "It all started out clear enough. I hadn't expected your.. birthday request, at all, and it seemed only natural to make a game out of it."

She grinned, familiar enough with him to know that that was indeed what he tended to do when surprised. Though usually, he only used that trick in business situations. Unlike his father; Vegeta would do that in fights.

"But then I got too close," she said.

He nodded. "I never intended anything to happen. I never thought you'd actually do it, and I certainly didn't think I would. It took me long enough to realise you were in heat and that I should get as far away from you as possible."

"And you were too proud to tell me that you were scared, too arrogant to give up the bet," she added. It actually made sense, in that weird, male way. He sure as hell wasn't going to let her win or even show her that she stood a chance, but since he didn't want to mess anything up with Katu, he wasn't going to be near her, either. Only that didn't work out quite as planned.

His eyes narrowed. "I won, didn't I?"

She snorted. "Yeah, you did. But you screwed everything up nonetheless and I still got what I wanted."

"Is this what you wanted, Pan?" he said, sharply. "Mess up my life? Embarrass yourself? Embarrassing both of us to the point where I don't dare to ever see any of your family members again?"

She narrowed her eyes. "I wanted you. And I have you."

"Had me."

"Have­ you." And, before he could retort, "Oh, be that way, I don't care." She stood up, pulling her hands away from his, and turned around so she could sulk in the general direction of the window.

If he had been more mature, he might have tried to get her back to sit and talk, but he wasn't that big a person. When he saw the opportunity to shut his emotional barriers down, he took it with both hands. So much for maturity.

"I'm not yours, Pan. Can't you finally stop daydreaming?" he snapped.

"Oh, you -" she choked on her curses. "Are you really this ignorant? Can't you feel it?" She cut him off when he opened his mouth, snapping: "No, it's not love," and in a movement that was really just a physical continuation of her sentence, she stepped into him. It was almost ridiculous how he leaned into her, the moment they touched. Almost, but her breath caught like his and the intensity of even this not-quite-touching was almost mind-numbing. I hope this fades, she thought dryly, once again reminded of a drug addiction. She would have been scared of her loss of thought, if it hadn't felt so natural. Surely a drug addict would know in the back of his mind that his habits were wrong, right, even though the high felt so good? This didn't feel wrong. She was still angry with him, yes, and hurt, but it just wasn't that important when his skin touched hers.

"We're not done," he said, his eyes still narrowed but not quite glaring.

"No, but I think we deserve a break," she said lightly, stood up on her tiptoes and softly touched her lips to his.

xoxox

"If you keep on doing that, people might start to think you're a couple," called a familiar voice dryly.

They broke apart, bewildered, and saw Bra standing in the doorway. The look on the girl's face was serious, but as she saw the nervous expressions on their faces, a light smile flew over her lips. "Well, are you?"

Pan looked at Trunks, Trunks at the ground. "No," he said. Pan rolled her eyes at him.

Bra raised her eyebrows. "Ah. Because friends kiss each other like that all the time. Marron's going to be so happy with me."

"Just get out," Trunks snapped. Behind his back, Pan mouthed 'idiot' and gestured to him, rolling her eyes again. Bra snorted. "Whatever," she said, walking off.

Pan looked at Trunks. He looked back. "Why are you smiling?" he asked her, an almost indignant expression on his face.

"Nothing," she said, still unable to keep the grin off her face. Maybe it was a ridiculous idea, but she was starting to think everything would work out. And the fact that Trunks was still oblivious to it was amusing, to say the least. It wasn't that she wasn't angry with him anymore; he still could hurt her – was still hurting her. It wasn't as if they would be running off into the sunset together and everything would be perfect forever. It wasn't love, he was right about that. But she finally realised that it didn't have to be love. Not yet.

His eyes were narrowed; he was obviously annoyed with her mood changes. She smirked. "I think I'm off. You don't seem to be very happy with me at the moment."

"We're not finished," he said again.

She smiled, kissed him briefly and turned on her heels. "No, we're not."

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Yes, this is actually the end. You made it, congrats.

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AN: No, I'm not kidding, this is the end. YWBM is finally finished. I kinda feel sorry for the people who have been reading this since the start; three years, sheesh, you've had to be patient. Hope you enjoyed it; I definitely did.

There's a small chance of me going back to rewrite the first chapters. There's a bigger chance of me writing some kind of epilogue for this. It just might take a while; I'm rather busy with my original writing and the tons of papers I have to do for my classes (not to mention work, hobbies and social life). There's a link to my writing journal in my user info, if you're curious.

Thank you for your wonderful comments throughout the years, and thank you, Noseless Wonder, for betaing most of this story. You've all been great :)

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