Part 3
Author's note: Again, Jaina is not responsible for this. Vash is. Blame him, it's easy.
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"Meryl! Meryl, look, it's him!"
"Huh?" Meryl shoved wet hair out of her eyes and squinted into the distance. Sure enough, there was a familiar tall, lanky figure walking towards them, just visible through the dust and water.
It was Vash. He had come back. He was alive. He was whole, he was okay, he was…
He was damn hot in that bodysuit, if she did say so herself.
Something wasn't right with the picture. Meryl looked harder, and unless Vash had grown a spare butt on his shoulder in the last week, he was carrying someone else with him.
"Isn't this great?" Milly babbled joyfully and bounced up and down. "Mr. Vash is all right!"
"Thank goodness." Meryl let out a long sigh. "I'm so glad." But I didn't expect company. Who the hell is that with Vash?
***
"This is my brother, Knives." Vash deposited his unconscious, bandaged burden on his bed. "Knives this is… Meryl."
Meryl pinked at the sound of her name. He said it, he really said it! She coughed and crossed her arms over her chest to hide her girlish reaction. "Why did you have to bring him back here? Hasn't he caused enough trouble?"
Vash gave her such a sad look that Meryl was sorry she'd said anything. "I couldn't just leave him there to die, you know. He is my brother."
"I'm sorry." Ashamed, Meryl blushed. "We'll take care of him, too."
"Thank you," said Vash, and she was enfolded in an awkward hug, impeded by his wounded shoulder. "It's not the best situation, but right now… if you want me, you get him too."
And oh I do want you. Meryl rested against his chest. Still, just what I needed… two brothers instead of one.
As if he'd heard her thoughts, Vash mumbled into her hair, "No threesomes."
***
Once Vash was patched up and sleeping soundly on her bed, Meryl was able to turn her medical attention to Knives. The bandages winding over Knives' prone form were so professionally done that it hadn't been necessary to attend to him right away.
Once she started to unwrap the layers of gauze, Meryl saw that Knives' jumpsuit was in terrible repair, full of holes from the fight. Well. Vash was his twin, right? They would have to wear the same size clothing. Vash's bolster bag yielded a battered pair of jeans and a button-down shirt.
Knives was heavy and hard to maneuver, but Meryl managed to extricate him from his jumpsuit without causing further injury. Before she threw the jumpsuit out, she checked the pockets. Even evil maniacs might want their keys back.
The fabric in one pocket felt different. Frowning, Meryl pulled out the contents. A handkerchief? She shook the item out.
"Underwear," Meryl said, puzzled. She looked closer, noted the familiar bow, and her face attained a color not often seen in nature. "MY UNDERWEAR!"
Vash was sleeping, but not for long. Her recovered panties clutched in one hand, Meryl descended on him like a freight train.
"Wha-? Hnngh?" Vash barely had time to register that he was conscious before an enraged Meryl belted him again. "OW! Stop that! I'm in enough pain!"
"Not nearly!" Meryl shook the panties in front of his face, and Vash blanched. "Can you tell me just why, Mr. Vash, your brother had my underwear in his pocket?"
"Um…" He tried to think of a good answer, of which there were none.
"I'm WAITING!"
"Knives… found them?"
"Oh. I see." Meryl tapped a foot. "And just where did your brother find my underwear?"
"On the ground?" The hole he was in got deeper.
"And can you tell me why, Mr. Vash, my panties were on the ground?" She loomed over him, eyes blazing. For sheer fury, Knives had nothing on Meryl, Vash thought, trying to disappear.
"I… dropped them?"
"I see. You dropped them. Now, Mr. Vash, you are going to explain why you would have had my lingerie out in the middle of the desert, in detail." Her smile was pure poison. "Or…"
"Or…what?" Vash ventured.
One small hand rested lightly on the bandages surrounding the wound on top of his leg and slid towards a vital area. "Or, I am going to make you very, very sorry."
***
Since Vash the Stampede had arrived in town, there was always something new to gossip about around the potbellied stove in the general store. The town had seen plenty of strange things in the past few weeks, and every new tidbit was dissected and passed around, spreading like wildfire.
But as for the pair of white boxer shorts with yellow duckies that flew from the spire of the post office… sometimes it was better not to ask.
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Alas, the juvenile underwear saga has come to its natural conclusion.
For those of you who would like to understand the "no threesomes" reference, I refer you
to the following fic on MediaMiner.org, entitled "Both." This fic is truly in a class by itself.
Thanks to everyone who read and reviewed! Huggles to all!
arafel@oceandreaming.com