DISCLAIMER: Trigun and its characters belong to Yasuhiro Nightow.

Weekend Ride

"WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?!" Meryl pointed a finger at the contraption outside the front door.

"What, this?" Vash held up his revolver. "My six-gun. You've seen it a million times now, you should know it when you –"

"Not that, you broom-head! Put that thing away before you shoot your eye out. I'm talking about that!"

"Oh, this?" He ran a hand over his spiked-up hair. "Yeah, it is getting a little too long, maybe I need a haircut or –"

"Stop playing games, Vash!" Meryl commanded. "I'm talking about that thing you're standing in front of."

This was not going as Vash had hoped it would. He tried to salvage the situation. Stepped out from in front of the beat-up motorcycle that had seen better days.

"It's our new wheels!" Ringmaster voice. Arms spread out like he was showing her what heaven looked like. Work that sale, boy. With enough pep, maybe she'd come around.

"It's an accident waiting to happen!" Maybe not.

Milly Thompson came out to see what the commotion was. "What's going on, you guys? Are you having another lover's quarrel?"

Meryl turned to her. "For the record, Milly, Vash and I do not have quarrels, we have discussions. And what's going on is that my husband is trying to kill us!" She pointed again at the bike.

"Oh, wow!" Milly exclaimed. "A motorbike! Just like Nick – er, Mr. Wolfwood used to ride!"

Vash beamed with pride. "I know, right? I haggled down the guy at the lot and got a really great deal on it, he didn't even insist on a credit check or anything. Said he trusted me and took cash on the spot."

"Saw you coming, is more like it," muttered Meryl.

"What's that, honey?"

She forced a smile. "Nothing, darling, nothing at all." Fumed silently.

When she sent him out for a new vehicle, she was expecting something with four wheels. Like, oh, say – a car. Not some overgrown bicycle on steroids.

"You know Milly's got a kid, Vash," she said. "You can't just put a kid on that thing. I guess it'll have to go back."

Vash parried her verbal thrust with, "They're sending over a sidecar later today. The kid can ride in that, no worry."

Damn. She tried another angle of attack. "How are we supposed to bring home groceries with that?"

He countered with a flourished wave. "Saddlebags."

She tried to bounce off his counter for a riposte. "Saddlebags are nice, but how do you expect me to get to work on that? I can't ride."

Meryl thought she had him, but he was too slippery and dodged. "That's one of the best parts. I'll take you and pick you up. No more walking back and forth to the office, and you get to show off your biker bad boy to all your friends." Grin.

Now he launched his own counter riposte. "Come on, Meryl, think of it – the open air, the endless sky, the sun kissing your skin, arms around me –"

It was a pretty picture, she had to admit.

"– fifteen hundred cc's of raw power underneath you…"

His counter riposte veered off angle.

"Vash, did that guy tell you this was a fifteen hundred cc bike?" she demanded.

Her husband scratched the back of his head and thought. "Um…no. Actually, what he said was, "What you want is a fifteen hundred cc flat-six', and he took me to this. Why, what's the matter?"

Meryl smacked her forehead. "I knew I should have gone! Vash, I love you dearly, but this is clearly a nine hundred V-twin – a prehistoric one, from the looks. Please tell me you didn't think you were going to get a fifteen hundred cube flat-six for the money I gave you."

He colored. "I – well…hey, just how do you know that stuff anyway? You just said you can't ride!"

His wife stuck her finger on his chest. "That doesn't mean I don't know what I'm talking about. I am first your wife, but second I work in insurance, or have you forgotten? It's my job to know these things!"

She made a mental note to switch the order of wife and insurance representative when talking to her boss. Tapped her foot with crossed arms.

"How can you tell the difference between a forty-four and a forty-five by the sound of the shot from four hundred meters away, but you can't tell what motorcycle you're buying?"

Vash grinned sheepishly. "Everyone has their specialties. And I did save you some money!" He shoved what he had saved at her. She took it with a sigh and counted, then tucked it in a pocket to go in the cashbox later.

"Well, for what you got, that's an ok price," she admitted. "But you're going to need to have this thing fixed up."

Vash's face lit up. "We're not going to try to give it back?"

Meryl snorted. "He's probably already spent the money by now. I think we're stuck with this. Which doesn't have to be so bad, necessarily." She smirked. "I honestly wouldn't at all mind that office slut Jasmine seeing me picked up by the best guy on Gunsmoke."

"Want to give it a test run?"

"What, now?"

Vash reached into a saddlebag and pulled out a little picnic basket. "We could make a trip of it."

Meryl whacked him on the shoulder. "You set me up! You con artist, you planned this!"

Vash waved a finger at her. "Not entirely true. I didn't plan to buy the bike, just once I saw it, I thought about how much fun it would be to ride with you. Then I thought about what we'd do on that ride. Why not a picnic? Come on, what do you say? You know you want to."

He moved in close so only she could hear. "And you do look damn hot wearing leather."

She colored. "You're not supposed to bring up Adventure Night in public," she hissed.

Raising the volume, she sighed and said, "I'm going to hate wearing a helmet, I'm telling you. I shudder at the thought of helmet hair."

Vash kissed her. "Insurance girl, you look sexy with any hair or no hair at all." He locked eyes with her. "So let's have a test drive and picnic already."

He was giving her the Look. The Look that overrode her practicality. The Look that had inspired Adventure Night.

She turned to Milly. "We'll be back in two or three hours. And quit smirking!"

Ran inside to grab a leather jacket to have at least some sort of protection when the stupid thing blew up on them. Came back out, pulling on a plain black number. Cursed this crazy man who could talk her into the most insane things.

Vash chuckled as she climbed on in back of him. Handed her a helmet from a saddlebag and said, "Don't forget this."

Meryl scowled as she put the blasted helmet on, glad she hadn't gotten her hair styled like she had planned to today. She was going to look terrible when she got this thing off.

"Where's your helmet?"

She could feel her husband's smug grin. "Don't want to mess up my hair." That earned him another smack on his shoulder.

Just as he hit the kickstarter, a thought came to Meryl. "Do you know how to ride?"

Vash grinned wickedly. "No, but I saw Wolfwood do it a million times."

Her shriek was lost in the roar of the engine as they took off.