DISCLAIMER: Trigun and its characters belong to Yasuhiro Nightow.

Reunion

Vash the Stampede sat at the edge of the rise, looking at the sunset. He was beat to all hell, the dark bruises on his puffy face evidence of the beating he had taken.

He had stopped the man Benson from killing Slater, his daughter's murderer. That was a good thing. It wasn't so much that Slater deserved to live after what he'd done – hell, he probably deserved to die a slow and painful death.

But deserve had nothing to do with it. No one had the right to purposefully kill another, not even in return for a death. If Benson had pulled that trigger…killing Slater wouldn't ease the pain he felt the way he thought it would. No amount of vengeance would ever lessen the pain of losing his daughter. It would only put a stain on his soul that wouldn't come out.

So Vash really should feel happy that he had stopped it. Instead, he just felt…sad. It should never have come to the point that it did in the first place. That girl shouldn't have been murdered. So much hate in this barren world…Vash knew he was going to have to face Knives, but really, Knives didn't have to lift a finger. Give it enough time, and the human race would kill itself extinct.

Wolfwood had been standing over him. As Meryl and Milly approached, the priest said, "Go easy on the nice guy stuff, ok? You gotta start taking care of yourself; luck and persistence won't work forever." Picked up his Punisher and strode away. "So long."

Meryl walked over to him. Held out a pink handkerchief. Milly smiled at this and departed after the priest.

Vash looked at the handkerchief in surprise, then up at Meryl's smiling face.

"It's your job or your life…"

"STAY BACK!"

Shame flooded him as he recalled how harsh he had been to her. Yes, he had been trying to protect her; she was so stubborn and determined that he thought harshness would be the only thing that worked on her. He still hadn't wanted to do it. He didn't like the thought of hurting Meryl.

Vash knew how Meryl felt about him. She thought he didn't, but she was nowhere near as good at hiding it as she thought. If he was honest with himself, he felt the same way, though he couldn't say when it had happened or when he actually realized it. He just knew his heart raced and his eyes smiled when he thought of Meryl Stryfe.

Also knew it couldn't happen, not as long as he had to deal with Knives. He couldn't involve Meryl in their struggle. So for her own good, he did what he didn't want to do and pushed her away.

True to Meryl form, here she was again, back in his life. Derringer Meryl, nothing; they should call her Boomerang Meryl.

Vash went ahead and accepted her offering, pressing it to his injured face. She sat down next to him. They were both quiet, looking out at a world on fire with sunset.

What should he say to her? What could he say that would make things better? What was there to say that would explain everything?

He was going to have to say something. "Long time, no see."

He halfway expected her to slap him. Light into him for pushing her away, for running away for two years, for not contacting her, for not doing at least something to let her know it wasn't personal. Punch him. Do something Meryl would do.

She just said, "Yeah." Which somehow managed to hurt worse than if she hit him.

Vash looked at her out of the corner of his eye. He didn't know if she was just watching the sunset or waiting for him. "I…"

Meryl looked at him when he spoke, and he ducked his head. "What?" she asked softly.

He raised his head up again, forcing himself to meet her eyes. "I'm sorry."

She took this without reaction. He couldn't read her face at all. "For what?"

"Everything."

Meryl turned so she was fully facing him, drew her knees up and hugged them. "I'm going to need an explanation of what 'everything' is."

How to put it?

"I'm sorry for hurting you."

Now she was more like the Meryl he knew. He was shocked when one hand moved like a striking snake and slapped him hard across the already-injured face. "If you think you could ever hurt me, you moronic broom-head, you're sadly mistaken! I –"

She stopped, surprised, when he took her hands in his.

"I'm sorry for leaving you, Meryl."

Her expression lost its hard edge. Lower lip trembled slightly.

"You did."

"Did what?" he asked.

"You hurt me when you left."

Vash tugged her hands. Meryl resisted at first, but relented and let him pull her into his embrace. He buried his face in her neck. Breathed in her scent. "I never wanted to."

Meryl ran her fingers through his hair, ruining his spiked-up 'do. "Why did you?"

He held her as tight as he could without hurting her. "To protect you. Because I'd rather have you alive and safe someplace without me, than have you fall beside me. Better I be without you than the whole world be without you."

Tears sparkled in the light of the fiery sunset as she said, "I don't care about the world. I care about you."

Vash brushed the tears away. "There are so many things about me…if I told you all of the truth, you'd hate me."

She took his hand and placed it over her heart, letting him feel that its steady beat didn't change as she spoke. "The world may hate you. I never will."

A soft kiss barely brushed against his lips. "And you don't have to tell me anything. The only thing I need to hear from you is three words."

Vash looked into her eyes. "Meryl…we can't –"

She shushed him with a finger on his mouth. "No, Vash. No this is wrong, no you have to leave, no it's not safe, no we can't be together. I don't care. Somewhere along the way, you became more than the job. Then everything happened, and you were lost to me for two years. Two years, I cried myself to sleep every night. Now I have you back, and you want to do it all over again."

Tears came again, made into little rubies by the last of the flaming light. "I don't care, damn it! I have you back, and the last place I want to be is tomorrow, where I might lose you again for good. I just want to be right here, right now, tonight. I want the three words I see in your eyes, damn you!"

All Vash wanted anymore was to give them to her.

"Will five do?" He tilted her head up, ran his fingers through his hair like she had his. Leaned in until their lips were almost touching. "I love you, Meryl Stryfe."

Meryl took the initiative, pushing forward and claiming his mouth with a kiss that had two years of passion packed into it.

Vash realized from his own response just how much he had missed her. She was running her fingers through his hair again, tangling them in, costing him a fortune in gel and keeping his mouth firmly on hers. Vash held her tightly, liked the way she fit against him, loved that he was with her, and simply enjoyed the entire reunion.

Meryl was right; let tomorrow take care of itself. She wasn't going anywhere, and despite his concern for her safety, he didn't want it any other way. Sure, there were other concerns galore. Knives. The Gung-Ho Guns. He still had to go visit the folks. It would all keep.

Tonight was theirs.