The bar is filled with light and celebration. Practically the entire town is here, passing around drinks and congratulations freely.
Who can blame them? Vash the Stampede has saved the day again.
I shake my head in disbelief, trying to fathom how any one person could have as much dumb luck as he. Surely he is depriving some poor town out there of their share.
Someone starts playing a jig, prompting everyone to clap and sing along loudly. The floor is cleared, tables and chairs pushed to the side as laughing people line up to dance.
He is there, of course, with that ridiculous looking tie wrapped around his head. I don't know where he keeps it normally, but it never fails to materialize whenever he's had one too many. He obviously reached his limit a long time ago.
Perhaps he keeps it around for special occasions. I smirk a little at the idea.
"Sempai," I hear Millie yell behind me, her speech somewhat slurred. Her head is down on the table, her hand gesturing wildly in the air as she speaks. It looks like Vash isn't the only one who's gone past their limit.
"Hai, Millie?" I call back, dodging various tipsy patrons on my way back to our table. I haven't yet had a drop to drink. After all, someone has to keep sober around here. For some reason, it always end up being me.
"Here." She hands me a large mug of....something. I sniff it cautiously. There's enough alcohol in there to knock out a thomas. I push it back gingerly.
"You've been drinking this?" Glancing at the table, I count at least four similar mugs surrounding my partner. No wonder Millie is in the state she's in.
"S'good," she slurs out, taking another mug from one of the bartenders nearby, gulping it down in one shot, then slamming it down firmly among the others. The entire table jumps in response. She never lifts her head from the table during this process, so naturally it spills all over the place. I leap back to avoid getting the stuff on me; there's no telling what kind of effect it might have on clothing. I wouldn't be surprised if it dissolved it on contact.
"Um...Millie? I think you've had enough..." I suggest hesitantly.
"You haven't tried any, sempai," she says, raising up her head to squint at me. She pushes forward the now half-empty mug she offered to me before, nodding encouragingly. "It's real good."
"Ah...I don't think that's such a good idea..."
A loud crash and a yell interrupt me. I turn to look.
It's him, of course. He doesn't need to be drunk to get into some sort of absurdly improbable accident; when he is, it's almost inevitable.
Somehow, he's managed to catch himself on the chandelier. He probably jumped from the bar, I decide. When he puts his mind to it, he can get a good distance in the air with those lanky legs of his. Now, he is hanging upside down from the swinging light fixture, his hands flailing wildly as he continues to yelp.
"Oi! Insurance girls! Help me!"
Suddenly a stiff drink seems like a very good idea. I snatch it out of Millie's hands and down it quickly. It has a mildly sour taste, not entirely unpleasant. It's not too bad if I hold my breath while drinking it.
She claps her hands delightedly. "Ne, sempai, I told you!" Her head bangs back down to its original position on the table. She hiccups unsteadily. "It'll make you feel aaaall better."
*Thud!*
Vash has gotten down from the ceiling, in the simplest way possible.
He lays, dazed, in a tangled heap on the floor. "Itai..." he groans as he holds his head, sitting up carefully. A rather large, red bump seems to be forming on the side of his head. I sigh, heading to the bar to get some ice, leaving the practically comatose Millie sleeping on the table.
I pick up another of those drinks to gulp down on the way. It really does seem to start tasting better.
"Here." I hand him the ice pack. He blinks at it confusedly. Sighing again, I kneel down to place the ice on his injury gently, my hand reaching behind his head for support.
"Cold..." he mumbles, not moving as I shift closer to get a better grip, unwrapping the tie from around his head. He lowers his hands slowly, staring up at me with those deep green eyes.
I squash down the impulse to cuddle him in my arms. Just because he looks like a lost puppy doesn't mean he should be treated like one.
"Vash-san," I admonish him. He doesn't appear to be listening. I wave my hand in front of his face, and he smiles goofily in response. I give up talking to him. He's obviously too far gone for my berating to have any effect.
Not that it does any good normally, anyway.
"Ne, Meryl?" His voice is quiet, almost childlike. I look at him again. His expression has changed, somehow softer; almost...shy. "You know, you're kind of pretty." I drop the ice pack in shock. He smiles again, this time a gentle look blossoming on his face. It's very becoming.
I blink, trying to absorb this information. It isn't working.
I must have had more to drink than I'd realized.
I stammer, unable to think of anything to say. In the background, I can hear the music starting again. He looks up suddenly, his eyes lighting up. Before I can catch my breath, he stands and whisks me off to the middle of the cleared space.
"Let's dance," he says happily, his earlier comment forgotten. Weaving and swaying uncertainly, he pulls me around on the floor.
"Wait, wait!" I gasp as I am swung back and forth unevenly. "Do you even know how to dance?"
"Of course I do!" He poses dramatically, almost sending me through a wall. He manages to stop me in time, swinging me around to catch me in his arms. I catch my breath in turn as we halt, face to face, our noses almost touching. The sudden closeness is disconcerting.
Somewhere in the back of my mind, I note that he's put on that damn tie around his head again.
"Sempai!" I shake my head to clear my senses, breaking eye contact. I scan around the room, and see Millie sitting up groggily. "Where are you, sempai?"
"I-I'm right here, Millie!" I wave to her from the dance floor, feeling vaguely grateful for the interruption.
She smiles at me and Vash, clapping her hands. "Oh, good. You're dancing! Sempai, you should have more fun," she yells enthusiastically. Grabbing yet another mug from a passing tray, she downs it contentedly.
I glance back at my dancing partner through the corner of my eye. He seems to have returned to normal, loudly calling for another drink. I hear a new song starting, a waltz this time. The other people clear the floor, apparently leaving the dancing to those who know the steps. I try to detach myself from his grasp, ready to slink back to the table where Millie is sitting, but he refuses to loosen his grip.
"Oh, no," he insists firmly, a mischievous glint in his eye. "We're going to dance."
With unexpected sobriety, he pulls me into a starting position. Closing his eyes as if to find the beat of the music, we stand there for a moment, waiting.
A pause.
And then, we begin.
His earlier clumsiness has disappeared, replaced by smooth coordination. He leads me through the steps fluidly, and I am somehow able to follow, despite my ignorance of the moves. We waltz across the floor, almost oblivious to the rest of the surroundings.
The music drifts by, haunting and beautiful. His steps seem to almost float, so gently does he lead me. I try my best to match them, hoping I am not being too ungraceful in comparison. I become aware of his hand clasping mine, the other resting lightly on the small of my back as he sweeps me around the room. His eyes are still closed, as if his mind is elsewhere, perhaps in the past. I close my eyes as well, losing myself in the soothing flow of the music.
For a moment, I simply relax, enjoying myself.
It has been a long time since I have been able to do that.
The music fades away too soon, replaced by something faster paced and better known. I hear the other people begin to fill the floor once again. With a contented sigh, I open my eyes slowly.
I suddenly realize my head has been resting on his shoulder.
With a start, I lift my head to look at him. His eyes have that gently bemused look about them again. Flustered, I open my mouth to speak, but nothing comes out.
He smiles a little at this, bending his head down to kiss me lightly on the forehead. "See?" he teases quietly. "I told you I knew how to dance."
I can do nothing more than blush.
Author's Notes: Hm...so far, all my fics have Vash ending up on the floor at some point. Interesting.
Also, I don't know if a bar would actually have a chandelier...I had in mind maybe a small hanging light fixture thingie, but chandelier sounded better. Also less words to type.
I was listening to "Sound Life" as I was writing this; I don't know if you can actually waltz to the music, but it seemed to fit the dance scene quite well. Anyway, hope you enjoyed the story.