Vino e Bombolone

Meryl was tired. She had tried to fall asleep several hours earlier, but something kept forcing her eyes open. Her thoughts were swirling behind her closed eyelids, making a multicolored storm of conflicting emotions, coloring her memories, and spawning the mother of all headaches in the process.

Exhaling through her nose—her teeth were firmly clenched in frustration—the insurance representative swung her short legs out of bed and slumped over, burying her face in her hands. Just some sleep, that's all I want. A few hours to think of nothing, remember nothing…I'm not asking for anything else.

"Are you okay, sempai?"

Nodding, Meryl whispered faintly, "Yes."

"No, you're not," Milly said, rising from her bunk opposite Meryl's. Straightening her rumpled pajamas, the much taller Milly sat beside her companion and mentor. "Are you thinking of Mr. Vash again?"

"N—…maybe. On and off." It did Meryl no good to argue with Milly for several reasons, foremost of which was that Milly was right. Then again, it was so disrespectful to lie to her closest friend that it was inconceivable. As well to come clean from the beginning as anything else.

Milly put her arm around Meryl's shoulders and gently shook her. "Maybe Mr. Vash is thinking of you, too. How could he not?"

"How could he in the first place? I mean, what have we done together that would warrant him thinking twice about me? Or once?"

Pursing her lips in thought, Milly tapped her chin slowly. "Well, there's that whole 'saving-of-the-lives' thing we've been through since we first met him."

Meryl looked up at Milly with a slightly exasperated frown. "You know what I mean. Romantically."

"Is that how you want him to look at you?"

Her mouth opened for a second, and closed with a soft pop. Meryl ran her fingers through her hair. "I'd like it, yes."

Milly smiled. Although someone unfamiliar with her might be tempted to pass her off as simple-minded, she was merely…uncluttered. She processed the same amount and type of information as anyone else, but ran everything through her own unique filters to focus on what she felt to be the heart of the matter at hand. And now she knew what her sempai's dilemma was: she was in love.

For the faintest of heartbeats, Milly's sympathetic yet cheerful face faltered. She had been in love once. She had shared such ecstatic intimacy and wonderful empathy. But he was dead now. This isn't about me, Milly told herself, putting her smile back in place. This is Ms. Stryfe's problem. "Maybe he does. Did you notice how he told us all to get out of the cave when we were back on that planet, but he was looking at you?"

"No," Meryl said. "I never saw that."

"I did. He wanted you safe most of all."

Meryl waved a dismissive hand. "Just coincidence. I happened to be right there in the way."

The taller woman softly shook her head with a faint smile. "No, you weren't. You'll have to trust me on this one, ma'am. He looked for you before he shouted."

"If you say so."

"Well, I do. And remember back on Gunsmoke, how he'd protect us against, oh, against everybody. Like that nut with the giant boomerang? And against the Gung Ho Guns? And everyone in between?"

"It wasn't just us he was protecting," Meryl argued, not looking at her friend.

"No, not just us," Milly agreed. "But mostly. And who did he always return to afterward?"

Now Meryl got up and walked to the viewport of their cabin. She found that same red star she'd pondered earlier; as their transport ship was moving slower than lightspeed and the star was so far off, it was still in the same position it had been for the past several hours. "You know, I think you're just making this all up."

"Or you're making excuses for something."

Meryl shot a sharp glance at Milly, who was looking at her mentor with compassion, concern, and sympathy, but not with accusation. A quick jerk of her head brought Meryl's gaze back out to the red star. For a second, she had nearly considered pulling rank on Milly to tell her to watch her tongue, but she reined in her own tongue instead. She knew that Milly meant no harm; it simply wasn't in her to be spiteful. "What could I be making excuses for? Or who?"

"Maybe you're scared of what Mr. Vash might say if you actually confronted him," Milly offered. "Maybe you don't want to open the door to your heart only to have him slam it shut on you, so you're just hiding behind all these words."

The red star gleamed steadily in the infinite ebony vastness. "Am I?"

She heard Milly's pajamas rustle as she stood and padded barefoot to her sempai's side. A warm, supportive hand rested on Meryl's shoulder. "You just asked me a question I can't answer for you. But you're looking at the right place to find the answer."

"That star?"

"Your reflection," Milly said, then headed to the bathroom to change.

A voice came over the intercom announcing that entry into the hypergate was less than ten minutes away. Meryl briefly glanced up, then looked back at the star. The words from her earlier ruminations came back to her, the imagined—truly imagined?—dialog between herself and Vash over the connotations of the color red, the reasons for and against pursuing any kind of relationship, and she paused. It was so odd that in her daydream she was arguing so vehemently in favor of seeing where the future would take them, but in her waking hours, she opposed it with equal strength. Does the heart yearn for what the mind fears, or does the heart dread what the mind craves? She moved to get dressed as well; sleep would prove elusive, she knew, and she wanted to get away from that star and its unblinking, all-seeing gaze.

As she was tying her boots, the cabin lights flickered and the voice declared their impending entry into the hypergate with a ten second countdown. For some unknown reason, Meryl felt herself drawn back to the viewport and that red star. She had this irrational fear that she might never see it again, that she might lose it and all the dreaming she'd done upon it once she crossed through the gate. She could see the titanic gate as the ship positioned itself for entry and now that she had a frame of reference, the red star, her red star, was vanishing from view very quickly, obscured by the hypergate.

Seven…

Is Vash aboard this ship, or headed somewhere else? Where will I see him again?

Five…

Will I ever see him again?

Three…

Vash! Where are you? Please. Don't forget me.

Zero.

Time and matter and energy convulsed, fused, and sundered again as the hypergate fired. Despite all that the physicists and engineers said about transit being nearly instantaneous, Meryl felt herself stretching over infinity, her body and her consciousness expanding to touch everything and nothing, contracting to be everywhere and nowhere. The thought tickled her brain that some Zen masters on old Earth would enjoy the experience, but one thought returned to dominate her conscience.

He was near. He had to be. Their lives had been intertwined for so long and in such depth that he simply had to be close. Fate would never allow it to be otherwise. Would it?

"Why don't you accept what I've told you?" she thought to the spirit of the man she prayed was listening. "Why do you keep fighting it?"

"Why do you?" he asked from behind her.

She started. So engrossing was the spectacle before and around her that she had failed to sense his presence. "I don't."

"It sounded like you were when you got out of bed," Vash replied, looking down at her reproachfully. "You were telling Milly all kinds of reasons why I wouldn't even think of you, much less come to you."

"But they were true, weren't they?"

"Answer that one for yourself," he said. "You were the one who gave the answers, so you must know their validity, right?"

"But were they answers you'd have given me?"

Vash crossed his arms and looked past Meryl, out the viewport that was filled with all the colors of creation. "You said I wouldn't approach you, didn't you? But where am I?"

Meryl frowned. "Yes, where are you?" They were transiting interstellar distances in a hyperspatial corridor. Who knew what was going on? Hallucinations, delirium, rampant daydreaming? Invasion of the Subconscious-Snatchers?

"As close as you'll let me be," was the answer.

"But what about all you said before? About how your life isn't meant for me?"

"It's not," Vash said slowly. "And I can't make you a part of it."

Meryl half-turned away from him to better hide a tear. "So we're right back where we started."

"No, because you didn't let me finish," he continued. "My life so far has been full of more loss than beauty. I lost Rem, lost a brother, maybe lost more chances at redemption or happiness than I can shake my guns at. I want what you or maybe what everyone else wants, but I can't have them living the life I lead."

Vash turned Meryl's face back toward him, gently guiding her with the fingertips of his right hand. "So I think it's time I changed my life."

SOUNDLIGHTDIZZINESS….

Meryl shook her head. The hyperspace transition was finished. They had reentered normal space somewhere near Jupiter and its system of moons and would be en route to Mars soon. She turned her gaze toward the porthole, and as she had known, there was no red star to be found. For that matter, there were no red stars at all.

Her fingers rested lightly on the glass as her thoughts swirled about her. She was too distraught to cry, too confused to shout, and above all, she was tired, even more so than she had been when she had tried to sleep. She pulled her arms close about herself, watching the faint fog of her body's heat fading from the porthole. No red, and even the warmth of memories fades into obscurity before I've had time to even notice them.

"Sempai, come on. It's dinner time," Milly said softly. "I've reserved us a table in one of the observation lounges. Tired and cranky or not, you need something to eat."

"Yeah," Meryl said softly, finally turning away from the window upon the abyss. As the door to their cabin opened, she faintly took note that Milly removed her hand from her shoulders now that they were in public. Good old Milly, the dark-haired woman smiled. Always proper and respectful.

She didn't give much thought to anything or anyone she passed until they were in the line to enter the dining rooms. Milly looked down at her mentor. "I hear they have excellent fish," she said. "You still like fish, don't you?"

A shrug, then Meryl offered, "Maybe not tonight. Maybe chicken. Something Italian or maybe Spanish. I don't know. I'll see what the menu says first, I guess."

There was a faint gasp from behind her. And from somewhat above. She turned to see what had so shocked Milly and her eyes met the chest of a man clad in a nondescript gray overcoat. She looked up at his face and for a moment had no idea who he was. His hair was dark, streaked now with blond where it had once been exactly the opposite. But he still had the same long lines of jaw, cheek, and nose, the same clear blue eyes. "Vash?"

The Stampede nodded slowly, a faint ghost of a smile on his face. "Yes. I thought…maybe we could talk for a little bit."

Meryl's lips worked soundlessly for a moment. "Ab—…about…wha? I mean, what do you, um…"

The boyish smile deepened a bit more. "Something told me we had things to discuss. And since they're serving dinner, why not take the chance to talk and share something other than drama and adventure?"

Utterly flustered now, Meryl stammered, "But Milly only reserved a slot for two of us. I don't know if we can…"

"Enough excuses, sempai," Milly said softly, putting a finger to her own lips to hush her mentor. "I have a few leftovers in our cabin. A shame to waste them, you know."

As Meryl looked up to Milly with a strange mixture of gratitude, joy, and confusion, Milly put her lips next to Vash's ear. "Take good care of Miss Stryfe for me," she whispered, just before planting a soft kiss on Vash's cheek. And she was gone.

Thank you, Milly. It was all Meryl could have said had she been able to speak. Now she was alone with her greatest wish and most dreaded fear. "Well," she started.

"Well," he agreed. He looked after Milly. "I was right. A pure soul."

A pause as Meryl frowned. "What made you decide to look for me?"

"Like I said, I needed to change some things," Vash said.

Like you said? You mean…? "But all that…I was imagining it," she protested. "I was dreaming."

He put his lips near her ear and reminded her of something. "Not human, remember?"

They were nearly to the door and the wait staff asked their names, preparing to show them to their tables. Desperate for something to say, her heart racing and her mind darting back and forth, Meryl opened her mouth to let out the first thing she could think of. "Why the different color coat?"

"Red just…it clashes," Vash said. He looked like he wanted to say something more, but he covered it with a shrug. "This is formal. Earth tones and stuff. And I didn't have a tie to match my red coat anyway."

She chewed her lip as she thought. "Where are you staying? I mean, I didn't know you had a room on this ship."

"I'm a few levels down. Way down," he murmured conspiratorially. "Not with so many ears around, hm?"

With a nod of understanding, Milly smiled. "Lucky for both of us you got on this ship."

Vash smiled in return. "Sometimes fate is kind. Yin balances yang." He offered his right arm to her, which she accepted. "When the universe takes something away, it finds that it abhors a vacuum and fills the void with something just as wonderful."

A waiter escorted them to a small booth for two, left menus for them, and departed. "Your hair," she started. "You used to be blond. What happened?"

Vash fiddled idly with a spoon. "Each time I use my Angel Arm, I power it with a portion of my own life," he said softly. "That first time took barely a trace of it, but when I faced off with Sephiroth in the cavern, I intentionally put almost everything I had into the blast. A lot of good it did."

"He got away?" Meryl was shocked.

A simple nod was the only answer.

"But how does that relate to your hair?"

"The more energy that goes into the Arm, the more black appears in my hair. Not a lot of blond left in it now, as you can see."

Meryl stared at him. "Then that means you don't have much…much life left."

"Exactly," he replied. He met her gaze steadily. "Which is why my life needs to change. A shame to waste it, like Milly says."

And he wants to spend it with me. With me! "I…I don't know what to say."

Vash gave her a one-shouldered shrug. "Whatever comes to mind. We have a chance at peace and quiet for once. Let's use it."

The waiter returned to find them clasping each other's hands. Vash's left hand lay idle at his side; for now, for this one special night, he would not touch Meryl with his artificial left hand. Not with the hand that held a gun concealed in its forearm. Tonight, Meryl would feel only warmth and softness, and be protected from death and danger.

Their waiter poured two glasses of wine for the couple and left as silently as he had come. The couple took their glasses with their left hands so they wouldn't have to let each other go. The waiter had brought a very fine claret; the nose and color were splendid, and with the shape of the glass and clarity of the wine, Meryl could even see her fingers through it.

The Humanoid Typhoon was likewise looking at his glass. He looked up to see a faint tear glistening in her smiling eyes, and there was a mischievous sparkle in his to match.

"It seems we've found a red we can agree on," Meryl said softly.

Vash smiled and raised his glass. "Only if it goes with doughnuts."

-Fine-

Once again, I own nothing related to Trigun or Final Fantasy. This is just me futzing around. All lawyers please chill the **** out.

Author's Notes: Just now figgered out this fancy formatting thingy we got goin' on here, so maybe it's time I answered a few PMs all at once. This story is the second sequel to my original work, Can't Spend it When You're Dead. The subsequent stories, beginning at about the same time, are Empty Chamber and Full Metal Bop. This one is the last in line.

And it's the last, too. Time now for me to concentrate on publishing my own original work, which I shall be doing within a week or ten. My gratitude to everyone who supported me and who offered constructive criticism to highlight my shortcomings (which could fill a book on their own!)

Maybe more fanfic will be on the way, but I dunno. Just as tomorrow is promised to no one, no one is privy to what tomorrow may hold.

We are just going to have to find out. Meanwhile, enjoy yourselves, write a little of your own stuff, and remember: 80% of "flame" is "lame!"