(An omake by Jaina and Arafel, part 1)
Arafel's note: Jaina had nothing to do with this one, but she provided rampant encouragement.
It helps if you've read A Whisper in Darkness, a fine product from our sick minds.
[/shameless plug] This omake contains sophomoric humor and no one should read it.
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The morning after and the morning before, Vash woke up, stretched, and scratched. He was feeling far more relaxed than he ought, given that Knives was waiting out there somewhere to blow his head off, but the general aura of well-being was too deep to shake.
Vash yawned and blinked. Well. That dream he'd had last night might have had something to do with it. At least, he thought it was a dream. Pants? Check. No one else in bed with him? Check. And it wasn't like Meryl, not at all, to do what he was sure he'd dreamed about. It was just too good to be something other than a complete fantasy.
But damn, if it had been, it was the most vivid fantasy he'd ever had. Vash allowed himself a minute to recall some of the higher points. Yes. Very vivid. Not that he hadn't had them before, even about her (and he hoped he'd come back to be able to tell her an awful lot of things) but never in such detail. Overheated brain and stress and being able to hug her was the cause, probably, even if she had socked him on the head after it.
Enough. Focus and refocus. His coat was hanging up, mended by small, careful hands (and he could feel those hands on his chest, dammit, not what he needed right now.) The gun was oiled, cleaned, and loaded. Boots were polished (and she'd done that too, god he loved her) and armor was repaired. A shave, and it was time to leave.
Vash dried off his face and glanced around the small, unattractive room, which was nonetheless the best in the house. The bed was unmade and a mess, but that was nothing new. Maybe he ought to cut Meryl a break and make the bed. Yes. That would be nice, wouldn't it? It would. He picked up the pillows and tossed them onto a chair.
Something small and white slid to the ground. It didn't look like socks. Frowning, Vash picked it up, and a huge, what-do-you-know, I-did-get-laid-last-night smile crossed his face.
So. It hadn't been a dream.
The pair of underwear - pretty, with a bikini cut and a little bow - confirmed that.
Wonders never ceased.
And who would have thought his insurance girl to be capable of such a thing, or to have such cute underwear? This could be interesting. It was all the more reason to confront Knives and remove him from the picture for a while. Hadn't he earned some time without worry? A little nooky on the side wouldn't hurt either.
Now. What to do with Meryl's underwear. He couldn't very well just leave it here, could he? Nah, that would be boring. There were plenty of places to tuck a pair of panties into his coat. She'd kill him if she knew.
Which, properly dealt with, could be fun. Meryl was so entertaining in a temper.
Whistling, Vash divested himself of sweatpants and got dressed.
It was time to go. The morning sun was blinding, and he didn't see the small figure next to the door until she spoke.
"You're leaving, aren't you." Meryl's face was hidden in shadow.
"Yeah." Vash turned, forcing himself to maintain composure. "I'm feeling a lot better now." For a variety of reasons, not the least of which was your surprise visit last night, and hoo boy but I'm feeling just great this morning because of it. "Don't worry, I'll be okay." He was unable to keep a small, satisfied smile off his face.
Meryl lifted her head, and the grey eyes were sad but accepting. "See you later. Good luck."
"Thanks. And thanks for everything." For patching me up, he wished he could say. For dragging me out of hell. For letting me know that you love me. And, for last night. The slight bulge in his pocket from her neatly folded panties pressed against his hip.
Not long after, the Cross Punisher was a heavy weight on his back, and the girls stood together, waving goodbye. Vash raised his own free hand in farewell. "Well, take care of yourselves. Bye." The seriousness of the situation was sinking in.
Goodbye, Milly. Goodbye, Meryl. I'll come back to you, insurance girl, I promise.
And thanks for the good-luck charm, even though you'd kick my ass if you knew I was bringing your
underwear with me.
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*Semper = Always
Ubi = Where
Sub = Under
Ubi = Where
Yes, I have a juvenile sense of humor. And, there's a second part. Stay tuned.
arafel@oceandreaming.com