DISCLAIMER—I don't own Dragonball/Z/GT or any of its characters

WARNING—This fic is rated MA for sexual themes and content and for language.

GENERAL FIC INFO—This Fic takes place some years after GT. Trunks has moved to New York City to run a new branch of Capsule Corporation. Pan is also in NYC attending an exclusive art school. I'm not sure what the age difference between them is in the show, but for the purpose of this fic, they're 11 years apart.

THE BIRDS, THE BEES, AND THE SAIYANS

So much left unspoken between the two of us

It's so much more exciting to look when you can touch

You could say I am different and maybe I'm afraid

But I know how to twist ya to bring you to your knees

I get off on you getting off on me

I give you what you want but nothing is for free

It's a give and take kinda life we make

When your line is crossed I get off, I get off

-I GET OFF by HALESTORM

CHAPTER ONE

Eleven fifty-eight. Pan sat in the living room of her one bedroom apartment, her eyes glued to the clock, her ears trained on every word that spilled from the DJ's mouth.

"Here's the latest single from Leon Starr! Be sure to stay tuned in. When we come back we'll be announcing the winner of our Party Like a Rock Star drawing. One lucky rocker will get to spend the entire summer touring with Leon Starr, staying at the finest hotels, hanging out backstage and gaining exclusive access to all the after parties as a personal guest of Leon's."

"Okay, okay," Pan chanted to herself, sucking deep breaths between her teeth. "Please, please, please. God, please. I've never won anything before. I think I deserve a little R and R for that whole saving the universe ordeal. Please!"

Her pleas were met with the angelic voice of Leon Starr singing about how he would treat her if she were his lady. As much as she loved his music, the song seemed to go on forever. Twice during the four minute single she got up and paced from one end of her apartment to the other; from the kitchen, through the living room and straight into her bedroom. Then she'd turn around and plop back down on the sofa.

When the final bars of the song were played, her heart did a funny little flip in her chest and sped up, then immediately dropped when her anxiety was greeted by a series of ads and commercials.

"Just say the name already!" she shouted and threw her pillow across the living room. It hit the wall with a thump and she cringed at the noise. Mrs. Shelton—her nosy next door neighbor—was sure to come knocking after that. The woman could hear a pin drop and be utterly convinced that someone in the building had just dropped dead. Pan supposed that's what happened to people who lived alone and did nothing but watch CSI all day.

"And now for the moment you've all been waiting for!" The DJ chirped. "As a special surprise, Leon Starr is here in the studio and will personally draw the name. Remember, once the name is called, that person has ten minutes to call into the studio and claim the prize. If that person doesn't call, we'll draw another name and reset the clock. If THAT person doesn't call, we do it again, and again, and again until we get our winner. Drumroll please!" A sound bite of drums played in the background.

Pan sat on the edge of her seat, her hands clasped around her cell phone, the studios number was already input. All she had to do was click the green button and she'd be talking to Leon. He could literally be one button away.

The sound of paper shuffling emitted through her speakers, then stopped. "Okay," Leon said. She could hear him unfolding the paper. Her breathing stopped, her chest ached. "And the winner is… Pan Son."

"AAAHHHHHHH!" She jumped up and flew around the apartment—literally—whooping and clapping and laughing. "I won!" she screamed. "Oh-my-gosh-I-won!"

"The clock starts now," the DJ said, pulling Pan out of her victory dance.

"The clock!" she shrieked. In all of her excitement she dropped her phone. She zeroed in on it, just under the coffee table and then dove over the couch to retrieve it, sending throw pillows flying and knocking over the arm chair in one fell swoop.

"This is the Rock, you're on the air…"

"I won! I mean, I'm Pan!"

"You're Pan? I don't know. You sound kind of young. You know you have to be eighteen to be eligible, don't you?"

"Pan?!" Mrs. Shelton banged on her door. "Are you alright in there? I heard all kinds of commotion."

"I'm fine Mrs. Shelton! Yes. I'm eighteen."

"Mrs. Shelton?" the DJ and Leon Starr repeated.

Pan felt her cheeks turning bright red and she silently thanked God that they couldn't see her right then, standing in the center of a wrecked apartment, panting hard and looking disheveled from flying and tossing furniture around. "Er.. yeah.. she's my neighbor. The woman is like ninety-three years old. I don't know how she hears everything."

"Pan! Are you all right? Open this door! I'll get the landlord!"

"Fucking Christ, really?" she growled and tried to tidy up her apartment as best she could with one hand. "I said I'm fine! I'm on the phone!"

Mrs. Shelton, however, was not convinced. "Is there someone in there with you?"

"Oh for the love of… no! Go away, please!"

"Aw, don't be like that," Leon's silky voice purred in her ear, sending slivers of warmth down her spine. "Why don't you open the door and see what she wants?"

"Because she's insane," Pan grumbled, but opened the door anyway.

There stood Mrs. Shelton. Her hair was in its usual disarray and her beady little eyes bore holes into Pan, raking over her from head to toe, searching for the slightest hint that she'd been wronged somehow. Her floral pattered dress hung off of her tiny frame like moth eaten drapes and her feet were bare. She'd undoubtedly tried to scurry out into the hall faster than her body would allow. "What has been going on in here?" she demanded. "I thought you were being held hostage or something from the way you were screaming and carrying on."

"No. I just got really excited. I won a contest to hang out with Leon Starr," she explained in a dry tone, convinced that Mrs. Shelton would have no idea who Leon Starr was or what she was talking about.

Pan, however, was wrong.

"Leon Starr?" Mrs. Shelton repeated and narrowed her eyes at the phone still pressed to Pan's ear. "You should turn it down, young lady. I've heard all about that hooligan and how he's only after one thing. A pretty girl like you should avoid that kind of trouble. He'll be trying to get into your pants before you can shake his hand."

Pan made a choking noise and slapped her hand over the receiver, but the DJ and Leon—and the rest of New York for that matter—had already heard her and were cracking up in her ear.

"You better watch out, Pan. She may be right. I am newly single after all."

"Right," Pan said, letting a false laugh bubble up her throat. "I'll keep that in mind."

There was another great round of chuckles from the DJ and Leon, then they rattled off a bunch of instructions that Pan had to do, like go the radio station and provide a picture ID and get her plane ticket. Then she'd meet up with Leon in three months to begin touring, which left her plenty of time to get any work or school arrangements handled.

Relief should have washed through her by the time she got off the phone—she'd won, she had her instructions, Leon Starr had spoken to her and Mrs. Shelton had finally disappeared back into the depths of her own apartment. But instead of relief, a new kind of anxiety flooded her.

What if she's right? She thought, letting her mind flip back through their conversation. What if that crazy old woman has a point and Leon Starr tries to sleep with me? What am I going to do? I don't know how to…

She drifted through her apartment, picking up things here and there that had been knocked over during her celebration lap, all the while thinking of ways to explain to Leon Starr of all people that she'd probably suck in bed.

How embarrassing! Maybe I should just listen to Mrs. Shelton and let someone else go. I mean, it's only the man of my dreams. He's only one of the most celebrated rock stars of my time. I could meet him again one day. Later in life when this wouldn't be a problem…

"Ugth! What a stupid idea," she groaned and picked up a couple of pictures off the ground. The first one was of her, her parents, and her Grandma Chichi. It had been taken right before she left for New York to accept her offer to attend The Art Institute of America. The second photo was of her and her best friend, Trunks. He was the only reason her parents allowed her to attend school out of the country. With Trunks around, they knew there'd be someone trustworthy to keep an eye on her—not to mention someone would be around who was actually stronger than her if she got out of control. She remembered how he had met her at the airport when she arrived and showed her the city that night. She'd spent weeks in his spare bedroom until he hunted down an apartment that he deemed to be good enough for her.

She smiled at the memory. They must have looked at every complex in the city before they found this one. For a minute there she worried that he'd make her stay with him until she graduated. It wasn't that she didn't like hanging out with him—in fact she loved his company-, but she wanted the opportunity to live on her own and to have her own space.

Besides that, the last time they'd spent any length of time living together she was still a little girl. Things were different now. She had big girl parts and it always felt a little weird if she had to dash back to her room in nothing but a towel if she'd forgot something for the shower. Neither of them said anything about it, but the silence that would hang between them was nearly tangible, and it would hover for hours.

Then there was the time she walked in on him and his latest conquest. Women were always throwing themselves at him, though she didn't see what all the commotion was about. Sure he had inhuman muscles and nice blue eyes, but other than that he was just… Trunks. But she supposed she didn't see the appeal because every man she knew was built just like him. Muscles, martial arts and confidence were an inescapable part of life in Pan's inner circle.

If more women saw Trunks the way she saw him, they'd back off right away. In her eyes he was nothing more than a big, lovable brainiac. Seriously, if he hadn't taken control of the New York branch of Capsule Corp, he probably would have been a teacher like her dad. The man could teach anyone anything…

The picture slipped from her hands and landed with a smack back onto the carpet. "Oh God."

An idea was forming in the back of her mind. An insane, ridiculous, terribly bad idea.

##

"Good Evening, Ms. Pan," Charles, the doorman of Trunks' apartment smiled when she came in.

"Hey Charles," Pan said, her voice two octaves too high. "Is Trunks in?" She hadn't called before she left in the hopes that he'd be out and this whole ludicrous idea of hers could be forgotten. But if he knew she wanted to stop by, he'd wait for her.

"Yes ma'am. He worked late and just got in no more than ten minutes ago. Shall I buzz him and let him know you're on your way up?"

Dammit! She'd forced herself to sit in her apartment for hours while she turned this idea over in her head again and again. The purpose of breaking it down so much was to try to talk herself out of it, but the more she thought about it, the more sense it seemed to make. If she would have come over when she first thought about it, he wouldn't have been home and she wouldn't be in this situation right now! "Uh, no. I'll just go up. It's… I'm going to surprise him." There's an understatement if I've ever heard one.

Charles nodded and offered her a smile that one might give to their granddaughter.

She shuddered and ran up the stairs. She didn't want Charles looking at her like that. Not right now when she felt so bad and wrong and… dirty.

I can't believe I'm doing this! She yelled to herself. God, how am I even going to say this? What should I do? I'll have to ask him to sit down first. Maybe if I'm lucky he's drinking a beer or something. That should take the edge off. Yeah. He likes beer. There's a good chance that alcohol has already happened. Ew. God, now I'm starting to sound like a skeezy old man who tries to pick up drunk women. If he's been drinking, then this is a no-go.

Trunks lived in the penthouse of the apartment building. It was on the highest floor so that he and he alone would have access to the roof. Pan wasn't sure why that mattered so much to him. It wasn't like they could get away with flying in New York. Still, it usually took her a long time to reach his floor, but this time it seemed to be mere seconds.

She laced her fingers together and thought about how she was going to do this. Hi Trunks, would you mind taking away my virginity? … Trunks, you know you're one of the only men I trust, right? I was thinking you might want to sleep with me. … Wouldn't it be cool if we hooked up?

When she reached his door, she stood and stared at the patterns swirled into the wood for a solid five minutes. Then she squared her shoulders and gave herself a good mental shake. She'd made the trip, on foot, trying to talk herself out of coming the whole time. Now that she was there, she refused to back down.

TAP TAP TAP, she knocked weakly on the door.

Trunks answered a few seconds later. He was still wearing the dress shirt and slacks he wore to the office; his sleeves were rolled up to just below his elbows and his tie was undone and hanging limply around his neck. "Oh hey, Pan. Come on in."

She stood rooted to the spot, her back rigid with nerves, her fingers wringing themselves into knots. Then, to her horror, she blurted out, "Ineedyoutosleepwithme."

He came up short and stared at her, dumbstruck, then… he shut the door in her face.

She exhaled, releasing the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding and had just thought about leaving when the door opened again.

"Sorry," Trunks said. "I think I just had some sort of crazy hallucination from working too much. I opened the door and could have sworn you said…"

"You didn't hallucinate, Trunks. I… I need you to teach me how to…" she trailed off. Her cheeks felt like infernos and she couldn't bring herself to look him in the eye, too afraid of the rejection she knew she'd see there.

When his hands lashed out and grabbed her shoulders, her heart gave a funny sort of leap. For a moment she actually thought he was going to do it, but those hopes were dashed when he pulled her inside and began running his fingers over her scalp. "Did you bump your head?"

"Stop it!" she hissed and slapped his hands away. "I'm serious!"

"You've gone mad!" he said, appalled at the very idea of what she was asking. "Why would you ever think of even… did I give you some sort of mixed signal? If I did…"

"No, you didn't. But that's why it has to be you. Because you're my best friend and I trust you and I know you won't think of it as more than what it really is."

His expression spoke volumes. It was like someone told him that Disney World was shutting down forever. His eyes moved over her face, searching desperately for any clue that she'd shout "April's Fools!" and they'd both get to laugh about it.

But that search came up empty, and he was left staring into the all-too-familiar determined face of Pan. "Okay—I mean, no, NOT okay but—I mean, let's go sit down and you can explain to me where this insanity came from."

She followed him into the living room and sank into the depths of his plush sofa. It didn't escape her notice when he crossed over to the other couch and sat down as far away from her as he could manage without seeming rude.

"It's like this…" she began and launched into the story about how she'd entered this contest a couple of months ago and that they announced today that she was the winner. Then she explained about Mrs. Shelton and how the old lady—crazy as she may be—could have a point. And if Leon Starr did end up trying to sleep with her, that she would have no idea as to what she was supposed to be doing.

"Well if you think he's going to try to sleep with you then I agree with Mrs. Shelton. You don't need to be going."

"But I want to go," Pan protested. Then in smaller voice added, "and I want him to want to sleep with me. "

"This is crazy."

"No it's not! And you're not allowed to think I'm crazy. In case you've forgotten, you're my best friend!"

"And in case you've forgotten, I have witnessed your dad lay down some truly spectacular ass-kickings in my day. I'm not trying to be next."

Pan jumped to her feet. "That's why you won't teach me? You're afraid of my dad?! It's not like I'm going to run off and tell him about it!"

"No," Trunks said, getting to his feet as well and glaring down at the girl he'd known since she wore diapers. "I won't teach you because it's immoral and wrong! Do you even understand what you're asking me to do? I mean, I'm ten years older than you for God's sake!"

"Eleven."

"Sorry?"

"You're eleven years older than me."

He blinked at her, slack jawed, then threw his hands up in the air. "Well that makes it worse!"

"But Trunks," she said and took a step towards him.

But Trunks backed away, "No. That's my final answer. Now we're going to forget this conversation ever happened. … I think you should leave now."

Rejection hit her like a cold slap to the face, making her eyes water and her heart sink. She wasn't stupid. The bigger, more sensible part of her knew all along what his answer would be, but hearing him say it hurt a lot more than she thought it would have. But she'd be damned before she let him see her cry over it.

She turned her head to the side as she passed him and crossed the open floor plan to the foyer. There, she stopped but didn't face him when she said, "I'll find someone who'll do it. I just wanted to ask you first because you're the only guy here I can trust. But this is New York. If you won't do it, there are plenty of other men out there who will."

Then she left, slamming the door so hard behind her that the frame cracked and buckled into a heap of wood in the hallway.

##

Author's Note—Hello All. This is a gift fic for a very good friend of mine. She's a huge Trunks/Pan person so I told her I'd scribble something down for her. Just so you all know, I am working on a different fic as well—A B/V fic called Beauty and the Beast—so my time will be split between these two. Also, I have no beta, so if you spot a typo please let me know. I tend to miss them in my own writing. Please read and review. I love hearing what everyone thinks!