DISCLAIMER: Trigun and its characters belong to Yasuhiro Nightow.

Roleplay

The room was mostly dark, except for the sole lamp that cast a pale imitation of light over half of Meryl Stryfe's face, the other half steeped in shadow.

She smiled and gently caressed the neck of her captive, her light touch resting on his pulse. "I have you at last," she said softly.

"You have nothing!" her captive declared, straining against the ropes that bound him to the chair he occupied. "No one is coming to save me, so any trap you plan will stay unsprung."

There was a gleam in Meryl's eyes as she told him, "I don't care about other hunters. My only plans involve you."

"You'll never make me a vampire like you!" he proclaimed with certainty.

"Of course not," she retorted, fiddling with his ropes. "Why would I want you to be a vampire like me?"

"Wait – why are you untying me?"

"Because ropes are so confining. If I turn you when you're tied up, then you would be a vampire like me; I was turned against my will. But vampires who turn voluntarily, they are much more powerful. And I can't think of a better fate for Vash the Stampede, mighty vampire hunter, than to become the strongest vampire himself."

Vash snorted in derision. "What makes you think I'd ever willingly be turned, vampire?"

Meryl produced a pair of handcuffs. She twirled them around casually. "I can be very…persuasive. Move to the bed, please."

"I will not!"

She made it an order. "Move to the bed!"

Stiffly, Vash rose and went to the bed on the other side of the room, where the lamplight was strongest. He sat down on it, waiting to see what the vampire had in store for him.

Slowly, leisurely, Meryl pushed him on his back and cuffed him to the headrail, taking it one click at a time. Then she straddled her captive, moving against him until she felt she was in just the right position to begin.

"Now," she said, her voice heavy with anticipation, "allow me to show you what vampires can do." Her orange fangs were bared as she bent down to his neck…

"Get away from him, you overgrown bat!" cried Milly Thompson. Water splashed over Meryl, soaking her clothes and ruining a hairdo she had paid a month's gratuities from work for.

Meryl crawled off Vash, who was now shaking with restrained amusement, and removed her orange rubber fangs. Stood up from the bed, water puddling around her. "Milly, just what do you think you're doing?"

"Playing with you and Mr. Vash," Milly explained. "I heard you two talking about roleplaying tonight and I thought it would be fun to play, too."

Vash couldn't keep it in any longer; he roared with laughter, while Meryl's palm flew to her forehead in a familiar flightpath.

"Milly," she said in exasperation, "there was a red tie on the door!"

Milly nodded. "I saw. I put it in the laundry. Mr. Vash isn't the best at keeping his things organized, is he?"

"I think we need to go have a talk while I change into some dry clothes."

"But what about the roleplaying, Meryl? You haven't died yet. That was supposed to be holy water, and you have to writhe around in agony –"

"Come on, Milly, before I catch cold!"

They left Vash still chuckling to himself on the bed. A few deft moves and he was free of the handcuffs, tucking his arms underneath his head and lying there contentedly.

While he'd always dreamed of a quiet life, there had also been the fear that he wouldn't be good at being settled down. But this try at building something with Meryl, it wasn't bad.

She came back in and started getting ready for bed.

"Is the mood ruined?" he asked.

"Let's just do this again tomorrow," she sighed.

Meryl went to sleep quickly, nestled against him. She was the last thing he would see before going to sleep himself. She was the first thing he would see tomorrow.

Yup. This wasn't bad at all. In fact, it was pretty damn good.