**DISCLAIMER** I do not own Trigun. I do not claim to own Trigun. I DO own this story. I do NOT own the characters. Please don't sue me. I'm not getting any money from this. (If I was, I would have a better computer, believe you me... ~_~*) Also, SPOILERS for the end of series.

A/N: This is a one shot. There will be no more of this. I doubt I will ever write another Trigun fic. I can read them, and enjoy them, but as much as I love the series I can't write them. So, please R&R. This was a study I did in an attempt to explore different writing styles. Needless to say, it did not turn out as I had hoped. Whatever.

~*Donut Partings*~

Don't follow me ... you'll just get hurt...

His words. His voice. His face -

... you'll just get hurt...

- and he left.

Meryl Strife looked out over the endless stretches of sand. She'd come to this village with Millie, Vash, and Wolfwood. She'd watched the men leave. She'd waited with Millie for them to return. She'd cried when they found out that Wolfwood was never coming back. And she'd prayed, night after night, after night, for Vash's safe return. But mostly, she remembered.

 Everything. Everything from their impromptu introduction to their final parting. Especially their last meeting.

I only want to help...

No. You can't. You'll only get killed.

But-

No.

and tears. Her tears and his, mingling. Closing her eyes she could almost remember the smell and feel of his skin against hers. She could almost remember heaven...

A knock on his door.

"Vash," she opened the door and came in, closing it quietly behind her. "Vash, can I talk to you for a minute?"

He dredged up his best genki smile. "Sure! Did you bring something to eat?"

A wry smile crossed her face as they sat on his bed. "Of course." She produced a box of donuts from God-knows-where. It was their private joke, shared with the rest of the world. It reminded them both of their first meeting, and they sat in silence for a moment, lost in memories.

"You sure are quiet for someone who came to talk," he said quietly, a frail attempt to be humorous.

She looked up at him, shaken out of her reverie. "Sumimasen. I was thinking."

"Aa." He nodded sagely. "Thinking. You shouldn't think too much, you know. It makes things harder."

"I-I know. It's just..." then abruptly changing the subject. "Where are you from? You've never told me anything about yourself. You're like a stranger, for all that we've traveled together all this time."

He looked up, and his eyes, when they met hers, held a flicker of some deep emotion. Instead of flitting away, it remained. He looked at her, and they sat that way, in silence, for a long moment.

Then Vash let out a long sigh. He closed his eyes, brushed a hand through his hair, and when he opened them again, it was with a pale shadow of his usual foolish smile. He leaned close to her, brushing her purple bangs back from her head and looking deep into her eyes.

"I'll tell you..." he whispered, leaning forward, resting one hand on her thigh.

Meryl blinked, widening her eyes in surprise at the closeness of his body. She could smell the leather of his coat, his aftershave, his hair gel, and it all smelled like ... donuts. ~_~. She gave an almost laugh. His eyes were half hooded and seemed to simmer with some unidentified emotion. Suddenly, he pulled her across the remaining length of bed and kissed her.

She was surprised, to say the least. She stiffened; then, slowly but surely, she gave into the kiss. His lips were firm, and smooth (and tasted like donuts). Just when she thought she was going to have to come up for air, he pulled back, an inch, two.

"I'll tell you," he said again, "when I get back." He kissed her again, quickly, and fled the room, only pausing to grab his gun. She sat there for a moment, stunned. Then, putting a hand to her lips, she realized what had just happened. Turning her head, she looked at the door where it hung open.

He's gone...

"Damn you, Vash," she said quietly. Then the he was back.

He gave her a sheepish smile. "Forgot my shoes."

"Vash ... I'm coming with you."

"No."

"I have to ... whether you take me or I just go, I'm coming."

"Don't follow me. You'll just get hurt."

"I only want to help..."

"No. You can't. You'll get killed."

"But-"

"No. He'll kill you, same as he killed -" and he stopped short inhaling through his nose. "Just ... no."

And he left. For real. She heard him clomp down the hall, heard the front door open. For a moment it was surreal. Then it sank in, with abrupt reality. She ran to the window, throwing open the shutters and pushing up the window. She leaned out and spotted him bargaining with a woman for a box of donuts.

"VASH!!"

He looked up. He waved; his public face was back on. He paid her, and walked back to Meryl.

"Vash," she said again, quietly now, "are you- you're coming back, right?"

He looked at her, eyes heavy. He brushed her cheek with his hand (the real one). "I don't know."

She closed her eyes, biting back a sob. "But-"

"Meryl." Her name. She lifted her head, opening her eyes. "No tears. I'm not worth crying over." But he was crying too. She pulled him to her, hugging him fiercely in a tight embrace. Then he pulled away, brushed at her tears with his glove, and turned down the street toward the setting sun and destiny.

She watched him until he was out of sight over a dune. Then she sighed, wiped her eyes, and whispered, "No tears. You were right about that. But you were wrong about the other." Meryl turned away from the darkened town, closed the window and went to find Millie.