Van sat awkwardly at Wendy's dining room table, watching the girl who had travelled with him for so long preparing him food. A glass was pushed in front of him and he frowned. He didn't think he'd asked her for milk, had he? And she wouldn't remember, not after almost ten years. Surely. But then, he glanced again at the milk, maybe she had.
Wendy smiled at him as he glanced up under the brim of his hat. She placed the food in front of him, before carefully lining up the condiments alongside. He allowed his face to relax into a hint of a grin, before pouring the condiments. He took a wary bite.
"Damn that's good," he yelled, not noticing Wendy start. Nor her glowing smile.
Van sat back with a contented sigh, resting his hands casually behind his head. Wendy sat opposite him with her own food.
"So," Van started, "How have you been?"
"I've been good," Wendy smiled, "I'm managing the Evergreen Bistro, have been for a couple of years now. I still see Carmen occasionally; she's changed professions, although I don't exactly know what it is she does anymore. It brings her to town sometimes. She comes to the Bistro for something to eat and to gather any new gossip."
"So she still deals in information." Van stated. He had never expected Carmen to change that much.
Wendy nodded. "Have you," she blushed; Van noted with interest, why would she blush? "Have you seen much of Priscilla or Carmen recently?"
Van shook his head, "I've just been wandering; haven't seen much of anyone at all."
Wendy sighed, "Oh." She settled back in the seat, letting her hands rest on the table.
Van studied her. She hadn't changed much since he had last seen her. She had lost the braids, and it now reached half way down her back in loose curls. She was taller too, but that was about it. Her face had lost the baby softness she had still had.
Van stood abruptly, glancing out the window. "Well, I'd better get going," He readjusted his hat and went to walk out.
Wendy leapt to her feet. "Why," She grasped his sleeve. He looked at her, startled, "I mean you can stay here if you'd like, I can fold the couch out for you."
"Well," Van hesitated, "That's very kind of you, but I have to get going."
"Where are you going then?" Wendy demanded, "The Claw is dead, he has been for years, Elena has been avenged, again, for years." She released his sleeve, sighing. "Fine, go then, I don't care."
"If you don't mind having me stay, that would be welcome." His voice was soft. He remembered not being able to stand it when she was upset before they all went their separate ways, but he didn't think it would still affect him. Wendy stared at him for a moment before a bright smile lit her face and she rushed off to prepare a space for him to sleep. Van followed more slowly, wondering at the smile. Why would she want him to stay? He collapsed across the couch, pulling his hat over his eyes. "Thanks," It was a grunt more than a word and Wendy waved slightly before leaving the room.
Wendy woke the next morning to her typically silent house. She stood and stretched, pulling on a robe. Walking into the lounge, she frowned. Her couch was neatly packed away, the blankets folded on top of it.
She stared. He had just left, not even bothering to wait for her to wake up. Van of the Dawn indeed.
She huffed, not wanting to admit, even to herself, how much that upset her. She slowly prepared for work, her usual enthusiasm damped down. She hadn't even gotten to say goodbye to him. Maybe it was better this way, she mused, he obviously still didn't care.
Wendy dressed quickly, glancing at the clock. She had time for breakfast if she moved quickly.
The front door opening made her pause, her hand going automatically towards the knives she had displayed on the bench.
"Hey," Van walked in, holding up a bag. "I brought breakfast." He held up a paper bag before placing it on the table, eyeing her warily.
Wendy glanced at herself and laughed shortly, "I'm sorry, I didn't realise it was you," She placed the knife back in the block, "I thought you'd left already."
Van was studying her. "Can you use that knife?"
"Passably," Wendy admitted, "I'm a better shot though." She sat at the table, setting it automatically and dishing out the food.
Van was puzzled. What had happened to her since they parted ways that she had felt the need to learn how to use a knife, in addition to actually apparently becoming proficient with a gun? He was curious, but decided if she wanted him to know something; she would tell him in her own time. After all, she had never had an issue with it before.