December 30, 2003
Author's Notes - Konnichi wa, minna-san! I hope everyone had a lovely Christmas, Kwanzaa, Chanukah, or whatever holiday they choose to celebrate. Unfortunately, I was unable to get out any updates during the holiday, but as a present, I have this little (well, it's not so little, it is kinda long and split into 2 parts) Trigun ficlet for you guys. Enjoy!
Trigun "Crazy lil' Thing Called Love"
Standard Disclaimer applies.
Part 1
Tracing her fingers over her back lightly, Meryl followed the trails of three, long scars that stretched across her shoulder. In her eyes, they contrasted against her pale skin, standing out far more than her midnight, pixie-cut hair, or her stormy-gray eyes. To her, they were more important than any other part of her body. No one but her knew they existed and she was content to keep it that way.
Standing in front of the mirror in her room, Meryl smiled. She knew these scars would eventually fade over time, as all wounds usually do. They had been much worse in fact; for the longest time, Meryl had refused to war anything but long sleeved shirts because of them. She was not ashamed of them, however; they were the symbol of a memory - a reminder to Meryl of how flawed and imperfect she actually was.
What? Could Meryl - straight-laced, no-nonsense - Strife of the Bernardelli Insurance Society, possibly be imperfect? A few years back, she probably would have told you not to be ridiculous. All of her adult life, Meryl had prided herself for her determination and all-out strict composure despite the environment around her. Yes, she did have a bit of a temper, but that couldn't be helped. Like many others on the planet of Gunsmoke, Meryl had lived a hard life. As a child, she had had to harden herself to the taunting of others over her small stature and boyish features (she had possessed short hair even as a youth - she felt it was more practical). She developed a very serious nature and learned that if anything was to be accomplished, she needed to always have a firm grasp on the situation. Meryl Strife was not allowed to lose control of herself - ever.
However, things do not always go as planned; all things come to pass, as she quickly learned. Meryl dedicated herself to her job and her responsibilities only to one day receive the assignment that would change her life - the one simply entitled *Vash the Stampede*.
Meryl could remember with crystal clarity the day that she and Milly actually met the man that people claimed to be the Humanoid Typhoon. Having declared him a First Class Localized Disaster, Meryl could also remember the outrage she felt as all of her expectations of the fierce gunman flew out the proverbial window as he time and again proved how undeserving of his sixty billion double dollar bounty he was. Meryl could remember traveling with him - as her duties prescribed - coming across many friends and enemies throughout their journeys. She also remembered the day she received the three scars.
Shuddering at the memory, Meryl closed her eyes as she recounted the vacant faces that stared at she and her friend/co-worker Milly Thompson that day. Attacked and bound she remembered, with a feeling akin to horror, being dragged towards the outskirts of LR town. There she and Milly were used as bait to force Vash's hand against the Gung-ho Gun known as Legato. He had had to choose between forfeiting their lives or Legato's, ultimately breaking his most sacred vow: the vow never to kill.
Meryl remembered the mindless bodies closing in on them. Lying hog-tied in the dirt with no means of protection or escape, she and Milly could only wait for the pain to descend upon them. Without thinking, she had broken free from one of her captors, shielding Milly from a blow from one the other's pitchforks. Pain had raked across her body then, leaving in its wake the three scars she currently bore. She remembered she and Milly's cries ringing loudly in the air only to be silenced by the familiar gunshot that rang out through the canyon.
'He chose to save us,' Meryl thought to herself, lowering her eyes to her feet. 'He chose us over his vow,' She closed her eyes, remembering all his anguish, the vacant stares and the silence, the trails of tears and the unholy screams in the middle of the night. The suffering and his heart's confusion in the aftermath of what he had done had almost undone her as well.
'He took a life to save ours.'
It was because of this that Meryl felt so attached to these three scars. Vash had acquired many numerous efforts to protect those around him. Though the injuries both she and Milly had sustained along with all the pain they had endured paled in comparison to that of Vash, Meryl still felt as though the shadows of her wounds were special. They were a connection to him, her penance for forcing him to make such an awful sacrifice. It was because of them that she now felt closer to him than ever before.
'And also,' she thought. 'As long as I have these,' she absently trailed her fingers across her shoulder again. 'That's one less mistake he has to endure.'
~~~
Vash stared at the hall clock wearily. Meryl had returned from her part- time job down at the cafe without a word to anyone. Trudging quietly up the stairs without so much as a peep, she quickly retreated to the solitude of her room. Assuming she had had a particularly shitty day, they had let her be. That had been over an hour ago and she had yet to return.
The tall gunman bit at his lip absently. She usually didn't take so long... had something happened to her while at work? Was she sick? She did always overwork herself - what could possibly be bothering her?
Milly, who stood at the stove stirring a pot of stew for their dinner, turned to face him with a knowing smile on her face.
"Don't worry about Sempai, Vash-san," she chirped. "I'm sure she'll be down soon."
Vash turned back to face her quickly, being sure to plaster a blank look on his face. "Huh? Wha... what about the short girl?"
Milly shook her head knowingly. He was just so transparent. It had been three years since they had first crossed paths with the infamous gunman. Did he honestly think refusing to speak their given names would have any effect on the nature of their relationship? His and Meryl's in particular; it was obvious he had feelings for her superior, why wouldn't he just come right out and admit it?
"You're so silly, Vash-san," she chided him with a smile, giggling. "I know you're waiting for Sempai to come downstairs, so don't try to fool me." She waved her spoon at him for emphasis. "You know as well as I do that you've been staring at that old clock for at least an hour. And before then you were sitting out on the back porch listening for her to come in the front door."
Dodging bits of steamed food, Vash could only grin nervously. Even to this day, the tall gunman was still stunned by the tall girl's perceptiveness. She was practically a savant and didn't even know it!
'Dang it... this little old house of ours is just too small to get away with anything in, isn't it?' With that thought, he cast Milly another sulky look.
And yet, seeing her so happy made him smile inside. It was good to hear her laughing again - especially after all that had happened... It would be a long time before he ever completely forgave himself.
Unaware of his thoughts, Milly grinned mischievously. "Since you're not denying it, Vash-san, I guess I must be right." She nodded to herself. "It is true, eh?"
Vash gave a theatrical sigh. "I was just wondering what was taking her so long," he tried to reply offhandedly. When she looked as though she wasn't buying it, he went on to add, "She always gets mad at me when we start to eat without her."
"Well, I don't suppose you can blame her," Milly grinned. "You do have a pretty big appetite." She was given a pout as a response. "But of course, you've always had the appetite of a growing boy. Though, so does Knives- kun, even though I bet he'd never admit it."
"Eh heh..." Leave it to Milly to speak so light-heartedly of the one person who wished nothing more than her painfully excruciating demise - along with the rest of the human race, of course.
A kettle on the stove began whistling and tall insurance agent removed it from the fire, tapping her chin thoughtfully. "Well, that's the hot water for Sempai's tea," she replied. "She's usually down by now, wouldn't you agree, Vash-sa--?"
She looked up to the door only to see the gunman quickly retreating down the hall. Smiling, she went to the pantry to find a cup of pudding. Oh, how she loved chocolate-banana-swirl especially - she'd go to the ends of Gunsmoke just to get a taste of it if she had to.
After all, people always did crazy things in the name of love. Plants, she surmised, included.
~~~
Donned in only the slip she usually wore underneath her clothing, Meryl was startled out of her reverie when she heard a hesitant knock at the door. Before she could answer however, it was soon swinging open to reveal Vash on the other side.
"Hey, Short girl! Big girl wants to know if you're... ready... for..." Aquamarine eyes widened in surprise, staring openly. "Teeeea..."
Horrified, Meryl quickly crossed her arms across her chest, turning her back to face him with her face red in embarrassment. "Vash, you idiot!!" she shrieked. "What are you doing?!"
The gunman did not respond. Her embarrassment quickly turned to anger. No way was that broom-haired buffoon going to gawk at her as if she was one of those two-bit floozies at the saloon. She was not cheap. Meryl Strife was a woman of dignity for crying out loud!
He still hadn't spoken or looked away. "What? Don't you have any decency?" she snarled, her eyes alight with indignation. Normally, witnessing such fury would have sent the man cowering away like a kicked dog, but he still had yet to move. Of course, this just made Meryl all the angrier.
"What the hell are you staring at??" she crossed her arms further over her chest in efforts to protect her modesty. However, unbeknownst to her, by turning away from him, she had exposed to him the one thing she had never wanted him to see...
"Scar..."
Meryl blinked, her fury effectively douse. "What...?"
Vash's usual poker - the expressionless mask that slipped over his face when he meant business - slid into place as he strode towards her in three quick steps. "Lemme see something."
Meryl backed away from him, snatching her uniform shirt off of the bed and draping it over her shoulders. "What are you babbling about?" she snapped. Yes, anger was the best course of action at this point. Get mad at him and he'll go away - hopefully. "I don't have to show you anything! The nerve of you - barging into a woman's room without her permission first! Why I oughta--"
Her words died in her throat at the Humanoid Typhoon stopped inches away from her, staring down at her with that same unreadable expression on his face. Guiding her back towards her bed, he sat her down gently, keeping his gaze level with hers. Prying her shirt out of her white-knuckled grasp, he studied her pale shoulder as if it were the most interesting thing he had ever seen.
Throughout this whole exchange, Meryl had not uttered a word. The moment his eyes had locked onto hers, Meryl's defenses shut down. As if she had been placed under a spell, the anger she so readily relied on to handle situations involving the blonde gunman became non-existent. In a few short seconds, Meryl had become powerless under his sea-green gaze.
"You shouldn't have scars like these," he murmured softly.
Meryl blinked, awakened from her trance. "Like what?" she asked testily. Again, trying to rely on the anger that so easily veiled her unease. "You think I'm too delicate or something? Just what are you getting at, Tongari?"
Vash only looked at her, a solemn expression crossing over his face. Again, Meryl's anger failed to stay its course, veering off to make way for nervous apprehension. How is it she could never read him as easily as he did her? Just what did he mean by giving her such a look?
"You don't have to be like that," he admonished her gently. "I'm just saying you don't deserve them."
"You don't deserve any of the ones you have either." she countered.
Vash didn't reply to that. Instead, he studied the scars again, a frown upon his face. Meryl tried to turn away from him self-consciously. "I'm not judging you," he murmured.
Meryl looked away from him, a cloudy expression filling her eyes. At those words, her mind had wandered back to a time in which it was Vash's room in which she stood and it was his scars that were laid bare for her to see.
~"It's not something I like for girls to see," he had said, a wistful expression on his face. ~"I figure they'd run away."~
~"I wouldn't run away,"~ she had said without thinking. ~"What I means is, *they* wouldn't run away.~
Her mind came back to the present, angered once again by his placating words. "Then what does it matter to you where I got them?" she asked. She turned her nose up to the air, frowning. "In fact, it's of no concern of yours what happens to me one bit, Vash the Stampede." Had she been looking in his direction, the look on his face would have surely told her otherwise.
Vash remained silent a moment, studying the faint lines running across her shoulder. They had been treated - of this he had no doubt - by her hands. Not her best work, he remarked, but he found it was a lot easier when the wounds you were treating were on someone else's body rather than your own.
Raising his hand, he traced a hand over them faintly, eliciting a shiver from the petite woman before him. He locked eyes with her a brief moment before tearing his eyes away to inspect the old injury further.
They mocked him, blaring up at him scornfully. He could almost remember the screams from when they had been created. He wanted to look away but he couldn't. They should have been etched across his back, not hers! She was beautiful, whether she knew it or not; seeing such marks marring her skin brought a pain to him to which the likes he hadn't recalled feeling in a long time.
Liking/not liking the sensations created by having him touch her - doubled by the fact that he was still so close to her - Meryl found herself squirming lightly. The expressions flitting across were so intense they confused her. What was it about her scars he found so fascinating? She resolved herself to ask him when he decided to speak up again.
Vash lowered his hands, placing them on either side of her. His usually spiked hair - having fallen out of his usual hairstyle hours ago - fell down over his eyes, obscuring them from view. "I'm sorry..."
What? Meryl found herself blinking. She spoke up, sounding snippier than she would have liked, "What in the world do you have to be sorry about?"
Clearly surprised at her response, Vash looked up at her in bewilderment, hurt clearly evident in his ocean-like depths. "I know how you got those scars..." he replied.
Meryl swallowed, unsure of what to say. After all, what was there to say? It wasn't as if she could lie about it - he had been there when it happened. What was done was done. In fact, she even told him so.
He shook his head, refusing to hear a word of it. "But you were hurt because of me!" he exclaimed, as if trying to make her understand.
"And Milly was, too!" she retorted. "Physically and emotionally!" Vash looked down again, preparing himself to apologize again. But Meryl would have none of it. "Don't you dare apologize, Vash!" Pulling herself out of his semi-embrace, Meryl stood up, draping the sheet from off of her bed over her shoulders. "Ugh! Just like a man! You have to assume responsibility for everything, don't you? Take everything on your shoulders? Far be it from anyone to let a woman to responsible for anything - when will you get it through that thick skull of yours that everything is not your--"
"But it is!" Vash cut in. "It was because of me that you and Milly were dragged out to the cliffs that day! The two of you were hurt because I was afraid to make a choice! It's my fault!"
"That you valued life over unnecessary violence? Okay, maybe... but that's not a bad thing." Meryl glared at him, crossing her arms over her chest beneath her sheet. Despite his obvious distress, she had noticed Vash's eyes lingering towards her chest a bit too often. 'Damned pervert...' "But don't forget, Milly and I chose to stay with you - even after you told us we were better off staying away. Remember that?"
Vash paused, remembering how relieved and upset he had been at their return. He had always been sad when having to part company with people he had met along his travels, but he had missed being around the two insurance agents most of all, even long after their departure. Amazing, even to this day, how such a strange pair would have had such a lasting effect on him.
"Why did you two decide to come back?" he asked, a teasing lilt evident in his tone. "Most people would have balked at the thought of being reassigned to such a nefarious and notorious outlaw."
Meryl gave him a look. "You are hardly nefarious, Vash," she remarked dryly. "Except, I suppose, when it comes to your relationships with big busted women in less than savory places."
Vash chuckled weakly, remembering her displeasure at his skirt chasing ways. She'd often remarked about how deplorable his actions were, and that she would have no part in them. He had always dared to hope that it bothered her for reasons than the ones she often expressed. Often times, when she thought no one was looking, he would catch her watching as he danced with other women or joked laughingly with others while chugging down drinks with a wistful expression on her face directed solely at him. And she had stopped referring to him as 'Vash-san' several minutes ago. That had to mean something, didn't it? Why else had she decided to return?
"Y'know, Short girl," he muttered slightly abashed. "I really don't do so much of that anymore."
''Specially since there's only one girl who's got my attention.'
The petite woman only glared at him. "Anyway, that's beside the point," she muttered, back to being snippy again. "The fact of the matter is, I was injured because I chose to get involved - nothing you say will convince me otherwise, Vash - whether you like it or not, I'm a trained professional. I took your assignment knowing danger was a possibility and I resigned myself to that. You cannot make my decisions for me - after all, I'm a grown woman."
'Boy, do I know that,' Vash thought to himself, recalling his thoughts and feelings at the sight of a barely clothed Meryl standing wide-eyed in the middle of the room. His mouth had gone completely dry. Shaking his head, he fought to clear that thought - and not so pure ones related to it - from his mind. "That my be so, but I'm still responsible-"
"No. You. Are. Not!" Meryl exclaimed, stomping a stocking-covered foot on the wooden floor. "These scars are mine and mine alone to bear! What I did that day and what I will continue to do have nothing to do with my job."
"But-"
"You idiot!" she exclaimed, her temper getting the better of her once again. "It stopped being about my job ages ago! Do you think I would just sit around and wait for you for months if I didn't trust you enough as a friend to come back?!"
Vash blinked. 'She considers me her friend?'
Unbeknownst to him, Meryl's temper was steadily reaching critical mass. While it did help to conceal her more vulnerable emotions, Meryl's anger did have one flaw - it caused her to say things without thinking.
"You're such a blockhead! The reason I stayed by you and the only reason I stay with you now is because I love you!"
End Part 1
Author's Notes - Konnichi wa, minna-san! I hope everyone had a lovely Christmas, Kwanzaa, Chanukah, or whatever holiday they choose to celebrate. Unfortunately, I was unable to get out any updates during the holiday, but as a present, I have this little (well, it's not so little, it is kinda long and split into 2 parts) Trigun ficlet for you guys. Enjoy!
Trigun "Crazy lil' Thing Called Love"
Standard Disclaimer applies.
Part 1
Tracing her fingers over her back lightly, Meryl followed the trails of three, long scars that stretched across her shoulder. In her eyes, they contrasted against her pale skin, standing out far more than her midnight, pixie-cut hair, or her stormy-gray eyes. To her, they were more important than any other part of her body. No one but her knew they existed and she was content to keep it that way.
Standing in front of the mirror in her room, Meryl smiled. She knew these scars would eventually fade over time, as all wounds usually do. They had been much worse in fact; for the longest time, Meryl had refused to war anything but long sleeved shirts because of them. She was not ashamed of them, however; they were the symbol of a memory - a reminder to Meryl of how flawed and imperfect she actually was.
What? Could Meryl - straight-laced, no-nonsense - Strife of the Bernardelli Insurance Society, possibly be imperfect? A few years back, she probably would have told you not to be ridiculous. All of her adult life, Meryl had prided herself for her determination and all-out strict composure despite the environment around her. Yes, she did have a bit of a temper, but that couldn't be helped. Like many others on the planet of Gunsmoke, Meryl had lived a hard life. As a child, she had had to harden herself to the taunting of others over her small stature and boyish features (she had possessed short hair even as a youth - she felt it was more practical). She developed a very serious nature and learned that if anything was to be accomplished, she needed to always have a firm grasp on the situation. Meryl Strife was not allowed to lose control of herself - ever.
However, things do not always go as planned; all things come to pass, as she quickly learned. Meryl dedicated herself to her job and her responsibilities only to one day receive the assignment that would change her life - the one simply entitled *Vash the Stampede*.
Meryl could remember with crystal clarity the day that she and Milly actually met the man that people claimed to be the Humanoid Typhoon. Having declared him a First Class Localized Disaster, Meryl could also remember the outrage she felt as all of her expectations of the fierce gunman flew out the proverbial window as he time and again proved how undeserving of his sixty billion double dollar bounty he was. Meryl could remember traveling with him - as her duties prescribed - coming across many friends and enemies throughout their journeys. She also remembered the day she received the three scars.
Shuddering at the memory, Meryl closed her eyes as she recounted the vacant faces that stared at she and her friend/co-worker Milly Thompson that day. Attacked and bound she remembered, with a feeling akin to horror, being dragged towards the outskirts of LR town. There she and Milly were used as bait to force Vash's hand against the Gung-ho Gun known as Legato. He had had to choose between forfeiting their lives or Legato's, ultimately breaking his most sacred vow: the vow never to kill.
Meryl remembered the mindless bodies closing in on them. Lying hog-tied in the dirt with no means of protection or escape, she and Milly could only wait for the pain to descend upon them. Without thinking, she had broken free from one of her captors, shielding Milly from a blow from one the other's pitchforks. Pain had raked across her body then, leaving in its wake the three scars she currently bore. She remembered she and Milly's cries ringing loudly in the air only to be silenced by the familiar gunshot that rang out through the canyon.
'He chose to save us,' Meryl thought to herself, lowering her eyes to her feet. 'He chose us over his vow,' She closed her eyes, remembering all his anguish, the vacant stares and the silence, the trails of tears and the unholy screams in the middle of the night. The suffering and his heart's confusion in the aftermath of what he had done had almost undone her as well.
'He took a life to save ours.'
It was because of this that Meryl felt so attached to these three scars. Vash had acquired many numerous efforts to protect those around him. Though the injuries both she and Milly had sustained along with all the pain they had endured paled in comparison to that of Vash, Meryl still felt as though the shadows of her wounds were special. They were a connection to him, her penance for forcing him to make such an awful sacrifice. It was because of them that she now felt closer to him than ever before.
'And also,' she thought. 'As long as I have these,' she absently trailed her fingers across her shoulder again. 'That's one less mistake he has to endure.'
~~~
Vash stared at the hall clock wearily. Meryl had returned from her part- time job down at the cafe without a word to anyone. Trudging quietly up the stairs without so much as a peep, she quickly retreated to the solitude of her room. Assuming she had had a particularly shitty day, they had let her be. That had been over an hour ago and she had yet to return.
The tall gunman bit at his lip absently. She usually didn't take so long... had something happened to her while at work? Was she sick? She did always overwork herself - what could possibly be bothering her?
Milly, who stood at the stove stirring a pot of stew for their dinner, turned to face him with a knowing smile on her face.
"Don't worry about Sempai, Vash-san," she chirped. "I'm sure she'll be down soon."
Vash turned back to face her quickly, being sure to plaster a blank look on his face. "Huh? Wha... what about the short girl?"
Milly shook her head knowingly. He was just so transparent. It had been three years since they had first crossed paths with the infamous gunman. Did he honestly think refusing to speak their given names would have any effect on the nature of their relationship? His and Meryl's in particular; it was obvious he had feelings for her superior, why wouldn't he just come right out and admit it?
"You're so silly, Vash-san," she chided him with a smile, giggling. "I know you're waiting for Sempai to come downstairs, so don't try to fool me." She waved her spoon at him for emphasis. "You know as well as I do that you've been staring at that old clock for at least an hour. And before then you were sitting out on the back porch listening for her to come in the front door."
Dodging bits of steamed food, Vash could only grin nervously. Even to this day, the tall gunman was still stunned by the tall girl's perceptiveness. She was practically a savant and didn't even know it!
'Dang it... this little old house of ours is just too small to get away with anything in, isn't it?' With that thought, he cast Milly another sulky look.
And yet, seeing her so happy made him smile inside. It was good to hear her laughing again - especially after all that had happened... It would be a long time before he ever completely forgave himself.
Unaware of his thoughts, Milly grinned mischievously. "Since you're not denying it, Vash-san, I guess I must be right." She nodded to herself. "It is true, eh?"
Vash gave a theatrical sigh. "I was just wondering what was taking her so long," he tried to reply offhandedly. When she looked as though she wasn't buying it, he went on to add, "She always gets mad at me when we start to eat without her."
"Well, I don't suppose you can blame her," Milly grinned. "You do have a pretty big appetite." She was given a pout as a response. "But of course, you've always had the appetite of a growing boy. Though, so does Knives- kun, even though I bet he'd never admit it."
"Eh heh..." Leave it to Milly to speak so light-heartedly of the one person who wished nothing more than her painfully excruciating demise - along with the rest of the human race, of course.
A kettle on the stove began whistling and tall insurance agent removed it from the fire, tapping her chin thoughtfully. "Well, that's the hot water for Sempai's tea," she replied. "She's usually down by now, wouldn't you agree, Vash-sa--?"
She looked up to the door only to see the gunman quickly retreating down the hall. Smiling, she went to the pantry to find a cup of pudding. Oh, how she loved chocolate-banana-swirl especially - she'd go to the ends of Gunsmoke just to get a taste of it if she had to.
After all, people always did crazy things in the name of love. Plants, she surmised, included.
~~~
Donned in only the slip she usually wore underneath her clothing, Meryl was startled out of her reverie when she heard a hesitant knock at the door. Before she could answer however, it was soon swinging open to reveal Vash on the other side.
"Hey, Short girl! Big girl wants to know if you're... ready... for..." Aquamarine eyes widened in surprise, staring openly. "Teeeea..."
Horrified, Meryl quickly crossed her arms across her chest, turning her back to face him with her face red in embarrassment. "Vash, you idiot!!" she shrieked. "What are you doing?!"
The gunman did not respond. Her embarrassment quickly turned to anger. No way was that broom-haired buffoon going to gawk at her as if she was one of those two-bit floozies at the saloon. She was not cheap. Meryl Strife was a woman of dignity for crying out loud!
He still hadn't spoken or looked away. "What? Don't you have any decency?" she snarled, her eyes alight with indignation. Normally, witnessing such fury would have sent the man cowering away like a kicked dog, but he still had yet to move. Of course, this just made Meryl all the angrier.
"What the hell are you staring at??" she crossed her arms further over her chest in efforts to protect her modesty. However, unbeknownst to her, by turning away from him, she had exposed to him the one thing she had never wanted him to see...
"Scar..."
Meryl blinked, her fury effectively douse. "What...?"
Vash's usual poker - the expressionless mask that slipped over his face when he meant business - slid into place as he strode towards her in three quick steps. "Lemme see something."
Meryl backed away from him, snatching her uniform shirt off of the bed and draping it over her shoulders. "What are you babbling about?" she snapped. Yes, anger was the best course of action at this point. Get mad at him and he'll go away - hopefully. "I don't have to show you anything! The nerve of you - barging into a woman's room without her permission first! Why I oughta--"
Her words died in her throat at the Humanoid Typhoon stopped inches away from her, staring down at her with that same unreadable expression on his face. Guiding her back towards her bed, he sat her down gently, keeping his gaze level with hers. Prying her shirt out of her white-knuckled grasp, he studied her pale shoulder as if it were the most interesting thing he had ever seen.
Throughout this whole exchange, Meryl had not uttered a word. The moment his eyes had locked onto hers, Meryl's defenses shut down. As if she had been placed under a spell, the anger she so readily relied on to handle situations involving the blonde gunman became non-existent. In a few short seconds, Meryl had become powerless under his sea-green gaze.
"You shouldn't have scars like these," he murmured softly.
Meryl blinked, awakened from her trance. "Like what?" she asked testily. Again, trying to rely on the anger that so easily veiled her unease. "You think I'm too delicate or something? Just what are you getting at, Tongari?"
Vash only looked at her, a solemn expression crossing over his face. Again, Meryl's anger failed to stay its course, veering off to make way for nervous apprehension. How is it she could never read him as easily as he did her? Just what did he mean by giving her such a look?
"You don't have to be like that," he admonished her gently. "I'm just saying you don't deserve them."
"You don't deserve any of the ones you have either." she countered.
Vash didn't reply to that. Instead, he studied the scars again, a frown upon his face. Meryl tried to turn away from him self-consciously. "I'm not judging you," he murmured.
Meryl looked away from him, a cloudy expression filling her eyes. At those words, her mind had wandered back to a time in which it was Vash's room in which she stood and it was his scars that were laid bare for her to see.
~"It's not something I like for girls to see," he had said, a wistful expression on his face. ~"I figure they'd run away."~
~"I wouldn't run away,"~ she had said without thinking. ~"What I means is, *they* wouldn't run away.~
Her mind came back to the present, angered once again by his placating words. "Then what does it matter to you where I got them?" she asked. She turned her nose up to the air, frowning. "In fact, it's of no concern of yours what happens to me one bit, Vash the Stampede." Had she been looking in his direction, the look on his face would have surely told her otherwise.
Vash remained silent a moment, studying the faint lines running across her shoulder. They had been treated - of this he had no doubt - by her hands. Not her best work, he remarked, but he found it was a lot easier when the wounds you were treating were on someone else's body rather than your own.
Raising his hand, he traced a hand over them faintly, eliciting a shiver from the petite woman before him. He locked eyes with her a brief moment before tearing his eyes away to inspect the old injury further.
They mocked him, blaring up at him scornfully. He could almost remember the screams from when they had been created. He wanted to look away but he couldn't. They should have been etched across his back, not hers! She was beautiful, whether she knew it or not; seeing such marks marring her skin brought a pain to him to which the likes he hadn't recalled feeling in a long time.
Liking/not liking the sensations created by having him touch her - doubled by the fact that he was still so close to her - Meryl found herself squirming lightly. The expressions flitting across were so intense they confused her. What was it about her scars he found so fascinating? She resolved herself to ask him when he decided to speak up again.
Vash lowered his hands, placing them on either side of her. His usually spiked hair - having fallen out of his usual hairstyle hours ago - fell down over his eyes, obscuring them from view. "I'm sorry..."
What? Meryl found herself blinking. She spoke up, sounding snippier than she would have liked, "What in the world do you have to be sorry about?"
Clearly surprised at her response, Vash looked up at her in bewilderment, hurt clearly evident in his ocean-like depths. "I know how you got those scars..." he replied.
Meryl swallowed, unsure of what to say. After all, what was there to say? It wasn't as if she could lie about it - he had been there when it happened. What was done was done. In fact, she even told him so.
He shook his head, refusing to hear a word of it. "But you were hurt because of me!" he exclaimed, as if trying to make her understand.
"And Milly was, too!" she retorted. "Physically and emotionally!" Vash looked down again, preparing himself to apologize again. But Meryl would have none of it. "Don't you dare apologize, Vash!" Pulling herself out of his semi-embrace, Meryl stood up, draping the sheet from off of her bed over her shoulders. "Ugh! Just like a man! You have to assume responsibility for everything, don't you? Take everything on your shoulders? Far be it from anyone to let a woman to responsible for anything - when will you get it through that thick skull of yours that everything is not your--"
"But it is!" Vash cut in. "It was because of me that you and Milly were dragged out to the cliffs that day! The two of you were hurt because I was afraid to make a choice! It's my fault!"
"That you valued life over unnecessary violence? Okay, maybe... but that's not a bad thing." Meryl glared at him, crossing her arms over her chest beneath her sheet. Despite his obvious distress, she had noticed Vash's eyes lingering towards her chest a bit too often. 'Damned pervert...' "But don't forget, Milly and I chose to stay with you - even after you told us we were better off staying away. Remember that?"
Vash paused, remembering how relieved and upset he had been at their return. He had always been sad when having to part company with people he had met along his travels, but he had missed being around the two insurance agents most of all, even long after their departure. Amazing, even to this day, how such a strange pair would have had such a lasting effect on him.
"Why did you two decide to come back?" he asked, a teasing lilt evident in his tone. "Most people would have balked at the thought of being reassigned to such a nefarious and notorious outlaw."
Meryl gave him a look. "You are hardly nefarious, Vash," she remarked dryly. "Except, I suppose, when it comes to your relationships with big busted women in less than savory places."
Vash chuckled weakly, remembering her displeasure at his skirt chasing ways. She'd often remarked about how deplorable his actions were, and that she would have no part in them. He had always dared to hope that it bothered her for reasons than the ones she often expressed. Often times, when she thought no one was looking, he would catch her watching as he danced with other women or joked laughingly with others while chugging down drinks with a wistful expression on her face directed solely at him. And she had stopped referring to him as 'Vash-san' several minutes ago. That had to mean something, didn't it? Why else had she decided to return?
"Y'know, Short girl," he muttered slightly abashed. "I really don't do so much of that anymore."
''Specially since there's only one girl who's got my attention.'
The petite woman only glared at him. "Anyway, that's beside the point," she muttered, back to being snippy again. "The fact of the matter is, I was injured because I chose to get involved - nothing you say will convince me otherwise, Vash - whether you like it or not, I'm a trained professional. I took your assignment knowing danger was a possibility and I resigned myself to that. You cannot make my decisions for me - after all, I'm a grown woman."
'Boy, do I know that,' Vash thought to himself, recalling his thoughts and feelings at the sight of a barely clothed Meryl standing wide-eyed in the middle of the room. His mouth had gone completely dry. Shaking his head, he fought to clear that thought - and not so pure ones related to it - from his mind. "That my be so, but I'm still responsible-"
"No. You. Are. Not!" Meryl exclaimed, stomping a stocking-covered foot on the wooden floor. "These scars are mine and mine alone to bear! What I did that day and what I will continue to do have nothing to do with my job."
"But-"
"You idiot!" she exclaimed, her temper getting the better of her once again. "It stopped being about my job ages ago! Do you think I would just sit around and wait for you for months if I didn't trust you enough as a friend to come back?!"
Vash blinked. 'She considers me her friend?'
Unbeknownst to him, Meryl's temper was steadily reaching critical mass. While it did help to conceal her more vulnerable emotions, Meryl's anger did have one flaw - it caused her to say things without thinking.
"You're such a blockhead! The reason I stayed by you and the only reason I stay with you now is because I love you!"
End Part 1